Aftershocks
Jul. 13th, 2009 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alternatedoomSequel to: Plans and Assignments
Pairing: Victor/Wade
Setting: X-Men Origins: Wolverine movieverse
Type: Established Relationship
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mild breath play. Anachronisms. Scrubs homage. Unbeta'ed.
Word Count: 4202
Summary: He'd idly thought about it for years, but seducing Victor didn't start to seem like a really excellent idea until he found out he had A) cancer and B) an estimated five months to live.
A/N: This is half the story, which overall is an AU starting with Plans and Assignments here. If you only want to read the Victor/Wade part of this sequel, press on; if you want to read the full sequel go to Conversations and Aftershocks here.
Aftershocks
by Randi
Wade walks down the corridor to Victor's room next. Their doors all have privacy locks and deadbolts. Victor keeps his door bolted, but Wade borrowed the key from Stryker's office a couple months ago and has no intention of ever putting it back.
He places the key back in his pocket before he slips inside the room.
Victor is on his bed watching tv, naked to the waist. Wade most often finds him wearing only a pair of old dark pants, soft and thin from many washings. Victor's eyes shift to him and then back to the television.
"Welcome back," Wade says, and gives Victor a saucy little smile. "How'd your assignment go?"
"The door could be locked for a reason, you know," Victor says, staring at the tv.
"Lover, I thought we had no secrets from each other," Wade says innocently. He takes off his swords in one quick gesture, leaning them against the wall, and sheds the harness that straps them to his back.
Victor scowls. "Don't call me that." The current of menace in his voice is undermined by the 'can't be bothered' vibe of his slouch. But Victor might look slightly pleased to see him. It's tough to tell. Victor can be hard to read. "Does Stryker know you can pick locks?"
"What are you talking about? I can't pick locks." Wade unlaces his boots.
Victor sighs and changes the subject. "Where've you been?"
"I went to bring Kayla dinner." Wade does a little shimmy as he kicks off the boots. "But you're the one who gets dessert," he announces coyly.
"And you could always come find me, you know, if you need something," he says pointedly. "We could fuck other places besides here. I've always wanted to get down and dirty in the lab. Make some happy memories there, you know? The lab could use an infusion of happy memories."
"C'mere," Victor says. He doesn't take his eyes off the television as he talks.
"'C'mere,' that's all I get? You're not even going to stand up to kiss me hello?"
Wade sighs, all drama. "Damn the romance phase went by fast."
Victor doesn't bother pointing out that he's never gotten up to kiss Wade hello.
When he finishes stripping off his socks, Wade obediently saunters over and hops up on the bed, standing above Victor. They've been fucking since Wade--masterfully, if he does think so himself--tempted Victor into it late one night two months ago. He'd idly thought about it for years, but seducing Victor didn't start to seem like a really excellent idea until he found out he had A) cancer and B) an estimated five months to live.
Wade glances at the tv. "I know you must love to watch the sharks and the big cats hunt, but do you ever watch anything besides nature programs?"
Victor's hand shoots out and seizes his ankle. Wade sees the hand coming in time to avoid it, but he lets Victor grab him. "Stop bouncing."
Wade obliges. "Do you realize we're going to be cooped up in here for a whole week?"
"Yes," Victor says, shutting off the tv and looking up at him. Finally looking at him. Wade likes having that intense gaze focused on him. He's invested considerable time and energy into getting Victor's attention.
"Well, I know it's going to be hard on you hiding out in here. On all of us really. I just wanted to volunteer my special services for keeping you from going out of your mind." Wade pulls his favorite red sleeveless top over his head, twirls it around a finger and flings it on the floor.
"Get down here," Victor says, tugging on his ankle. A few of Victor's nails have gotten hooked on the hem of his trousers, and instead of taking a moment to free them, Victor tears them out rather carelessly with a little noise of ripping fabric. Wade doesn't object to Victor shredding his clothes. He doesn't care much. Clothes are such a little deal. The big thing that always held him back from making a pass at Victor was fear of losing important body parts. Wade pulls his pants and boxers down, crumpling them into a pile of pants and underwear. He steps out of them and lightly kicks the pile onto the floor.
"Really, ask me about my special services." Wade plops down, bouncing Victor again and earning a scowl.
"You're almost more trouble than you're worth," Victor grumbles, but he seems distracted by the lines of of Wade's naked body.
"Nonsense. I'm unpredictable and you love it."
"You're annoying." Wade's kneeling close enough for Victor to grab an asscheek in his hand without having to reach. He squeezes hard enough to make Wade yelp.
"I bring much-needed fun to your life." Wade refuses to be anything but upbeat.
Victor rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll play. Tell me about your special services."
"Well, I'll wash and detail your car for eight hundred dollars, or clean your room naked for the same amount. For a mere five hundred dollars I'll cook you dinner. My offer of a manicure is, as always, free to those in dire need of one." Wade picks up Victor's hand only to have it snatched away. He sniffs, but gets over it at the speed of light. He scoots closer, and angles his hips so his erection bumps Victor's side. "I could also suck you off, or you could take off those filthy slacks and fuck me in the ass already, and liven up my dull evening."
"Get that thing away from me," Victor says warningly.
"Sure, sure." Wade rolls over, presenting his ass. "You know, there is nothing in the world as fun as poking at your homophobia. If you're going to fuck guys, you might want to consider getting over your fear of the penis--OW!" Victor's hand pulls his hair a little harder. "OWWW! Okay, not fear, I take that back. Disgust, manly disgust." Victor slowly releases his handful of Wade's short, crisp hair. "Thank you. I'm hoping to keep my hair, you know." Wade pats his own head as if pressing the hairs back into his scalp.
"I'm sure you'll have cabin fever by the end of the week, but at least we're going to get the equivalent of room service. Sure, it's the same industrial complex high-protein crap we always eat, but we won't have to get out of bed. Think of that, kitty cat. We could do nothing but eat and sleep and fuck all week long."
"I'm not spending the week in bed with you," Victor says, but he looks like he's mulling it over.
"Okay, we can watch tv too. Eat and sleep and fuck and watch tv all week long."
Victor grunts.
Wade stretches, aware of Victor's gaze moving along the tanned musculature of his back, ass and legs.
"Well, we can't go down there starting right now. Stryker wants me to tell everyone. He's having the place fumigated to make absolutely sure Logan doesn't smell anything that tips him off to, y'know, you being here and me and Kayla not being dead."
Victor yawns. "Yeah, Stryker mentioned it half a dozen times already."
"I'm going to run out of junk food and then I'm gonna go nuts," Wade says sadly, then perks right back up. "You're going to have to help me through my withdrawal."
Victor gives him a look.
"Well, you got something more important to do? What are you planning to do to stay entertained while we're trapped up here?"
Victor doesn't have an immediate answer for that.
Wade smiles winningly and shakes his ass a little. He slicked himself up inside before delivering Kayla's dinner and debriefing, and while some of the lube's soaked into his skin, there's still enough slipperiness to keep things more or less comfortable.
Victor's pleasantly predictable. Dangle sex in front of him, even gay sex, and he gets interested. Wade supposes it beats a nonstop diet of hard alcohol, killing wild animals, fucking non-consenting civilians, and the Discovery channel. Victor gets up and moves out of sight. Wade feels him shifting on the bed behind him. Wade spreads his legs, and the next thing he feels is Victor's cock pressing against his ass, and Victor's bare legs resting inside his.
"Come on, tiger," Wade comments impatiently, twisting his head to look behind him. Victor always makes Wade pay for egging him on and saying the gay shit, but he can't help himself.
True to form, Victor slaps a hand on his balls threateningly. "Be quiet."
"You're the boss," Wade agrees quickly. He smiles over his shoulder at Victor. "I'll be good. I'll be--AAAH--quiet."
He winces when Victor leans down and bites him on his shoulder blade, and then he feels Victor's hands on his asscheeks, pulling them apart a little too roughly.
Victor lines things up and prods Wade's entrance with his cock. He pauses a moment, rubbing and teasing Wade before shoving the tip in seemingly as hard as he can. No more than a couple inches or so, but it's brutal enough to make Wade cry out. In a good way. In a mostly good, partly agonized way. Wade muffles his shout, but he knows it's still loud.
Victor takes Wade's wrists and pins them to the bed, supporting his weight and holding Wade down at the same time. Victor doesn't trouble himself to enter Wade's body particularly slowly, though he thrusts a tiny bit out and back in now and then on the way in. However, Wade gets the impression the little easing movements are not for his benefit so much as Victor's own pleasure.
Victor always takes his time, won't be rushed, and when he decides to get down to business, they're always on his schedule.
Victor's cock burns on the way in, and Wade whimpers, chewing his lower lip. It hurts like a motherfucker, but he loves it. Getting it up the butt from Victor is distracting. The specter of cancer fades away, if only temporarily. Sometimes when they fuck he forgets the cancer completely, which is quite magical even when it's only for a few precious minutes. Wade's always found enduring pain to be a nice reminder he's alive.
Causing death and mayhem isn't bad either.
"Isn't this fun? Is this not a much better use of your time than tv?" Wade says breathlessly.
"Shut up," Victor grunts.
When he's pushed his cock in as far as it'll go, Victor pauses, giving Wade a moment. He licks Wade's ear, swirling his tongue around. His whiskers tickle Wade's neck. Then he starts thrusting in and out. Victor's hips feel to Wade like a force of nature, flexing methodically, determinedly and without concern for Wade's insides, Wade's hard-on, or who might overhear the moaning sounds coming from Wade's mouth.
Wade tugs at his arm, trying to wriggle his wrist out of Victor's grip. "Can I--ahhhhh--can I have my hand back?"
Victor grinds into Wade hard. "I'll think about it."
Wade squeaks. "I want to come," he mumbles into the mattress.
Victor's only response is to curl his hands tighter around Wade's wrists, pricking Wade's flesh with the tips of his fingernails. Wade writhes under him, moaning loudly, no longer holding back. Victor doesn't do traditional foreplay, but he always hurts Wade, and to Wade it's foreplay enough.
Wade's cock aches where it presses against the bed. He moves his ass back against Victor, meeting his intense thrusts. Victor's more likely to let him come when Wade makes an obvious effort to please him. Victor's cock hits his prostate, and he hisses.
"Please Vic," he begs, when he gets his breath back.
"You love this." Victor sounds amused. He dips his head and suckles briefly on Wade's neck. Wade's discovered Victor likes marking him with bites and hickeys. It's like being back in high school, and a girl, or something. Sometimes Stryker or Zero momentarily eye the red spots left in Victor's wake, but Wade doesn't have the dignity to be embarrassed. He's happily shameless, and not just cause of the dying thing.
Victor finally lets go of his wrists and pulls out. "Roll over."
Wade quickly flips onto his back, his hand going instantly to his cock as Victor pushes back inside him. Wade can get close to coming just from having Victor's dick moving in and out of him. Between the fucking he's receiving, the biting and the scratching, he could go off at any second. And he wants to, before Victor finishes with him, and he can tell Victor's close too.
Victor puts a hand around his throat, not choking him, but definitely restricting his breathing. Victor fucks Wade until his thrusts get violent and his own breathing gets ragged. When he comes, Victor's hand tightens around Wade's neck, and he lets out an animalistic roar that's louder than any sound Wade's ever made.
When Victor sags and collapses on top of him, Wade's already lost to the world, his awareness narrowed to the need in his cock and the sensation from his ass. With a groan Wade blows his load in his hand, clutching his cock, with his muscles spasming rhythmically around Victor. The added clenching, just as Victor's orgasm is winding down, makes Victor growl from low in his chest. Finally Victor's hand lets up on Wade's throat.
Wade hangs on to consciousness by a thread.
It's that good.
Of course, when it's over, with Victor's weight still on him, he can't do much more than gulp air.
"Okay ... need to breathe," Wade gasps. Victor never gets off him until he asks. It's a routine of theirs, or perhaps just a routine of Victor's. Victor pulls out, leaving Wade panting and flushed.
Victor rolls off of him and rubs off his cock on the top sheet. Wade takes some fast breaths followed by some deep ones. He's expecting Victor to tell him to get out, since someone's supposedly going to be knocking on the door with breakfast in the morning, but Victor just falls asleep.
Victor can get unconscious faster than anyone Wade's ever met.
All the better.
Wade stretches, feeling cheerful and satisfied. The cancer diagnosis left him devastated and very much in the mood to fuck his brains out, and Victor's exceptionally good brain-fucking-out material. Wade thought his choice over very carefully before getting involved, and he ultimately decided Victor's hotter than the cute blond doctor who's the head of Stryker's surgical team, even though Blond Doctor is very smart and has a great rack. Wade's confident he could go there. He's got long, lean muscles and he's pretty good-looking. Plus chicks are suckers for a death's-door sob story, and his is shaping up to be a classic.
But Wade wasn't sure he liked the idea of fucking a surgeon who periodically operates on him. He'd have to be careful not to piss her off, and he was never that big a fan of medical porn anyway. Besides, Blond Doctor's super hot, but she doesn't seem like the type to take charge in bed.
Not like a certain catlike mutant Wade knows.
Victor snores softly. Wade thinks about getting up and stretching, or practicing his judo moves, but he doesn't feel like getting up, so he turns the tv back on and puts the volume down low. He hasn't slept too great since he found out about the sickness ravaging him cell by cell. Every second feels like it needs to be full and well-spent, like he needs to pack in every lively moment he can.
Victor's good for that, he thinks, glancing at the sleeping mutant affectionately.
Wade's tired, and sleepy from the orgasm, but not enough to justify wasting time sawing them off like Victor there. Tv, unlike sleeping, seems like a decent use of his time. Nothing's as useless as sleeping.
Tv's not as good as sex, but then, what is.
Looking around, it occurs to him that Victor's bed is queen-sized. His own bed is only a full. Totally not fair. He makes a mental note to complain next time he sees Stryker.
There's nothing good on tv, so Wade clicks it off. He turns on his side and watches Victor sleep for a while. Victor's chest rumbles as it rises and falls, and his face looks strangely peaceful at rest, softer, less like a bristly, dangerous mass murderer's than usual.
But then, Wade knows appearances can be deceiving. Wade hasn't visibly aged in five years, not since Stryker transplanted a portion of Victor's healing factor into his DNA. It worked, sort of. The genetic retooling's kept him looking the same, and although his body doesn't close a cut as fast as Victor's or Logan's, he heals faster than the average human now. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to stave off the disease that's apparently eating him from the inside out.
When he found out about the cancer, acting on the long-restrained impulse to get in Victor's pants seemed like not just a fun possibility to entertain on nights when he was drunk or particularly bored, but actually the best idea he'd had in years.
Victor didn't let him down. Wade always did like to work at getting a rise out of Victor, then dance away before he could get swatted. He's known for a long time, as they all pretty much have, that Victor's not picky about where he satisfies his sexual urges. Even so, Wade hadn't been sure about going for it since Victor was consistently pretty clear on the not liking him part. But he didn't feel like he had much to lose, and seducing Victor was good old-fashioned risky fun. Ultimately it was much easier than he expected.
After lifting the key from Stryker's office, he let himself into Victor's room one night to find the other man on the bed watching a Discovery show on bears. Victor was not at all happy about the intrusion, almost like a cranky, recently-out-of-hibernation bear himself. It was all, "What the fuck are you doing in here?" and things like that. Wade casually offered himself and had the satisfaction of seeing the other man's eyes narrow. Then he started taking off his clothes. It took a little convincing. Victor seemed doubtful at first but eventually got a calculating look in his eyes. Wade grins at the memory.
So that was one nice thing cancer's done for him.
Stryker's determined to get ahold of Logan's DNA and try again to tweak Wade's genes with it. Stryker's convinced Logan's healing factor will be easier to graft than Victor's. Stryker's promised him up and down that he's going to cure Wade's cancer.
Wade thinks about the part he didn't tell Kayla, that they're going to erase Logan's memories, make him a mindless zombie super-soldier. He's not sure how zombie-like Logan will be, but probably enough to be creepy. In part, he decided not to say anything because it would make her sad. A lot of people assume that because he talks so much, he's incapable of seeing and listening, but it's not true. Wade's observant as all get out. He has to be, or someone would have killed him a long time ago for talking too much. And he could read Kayla's feelings for Logan in every inch of her face.
There was no sense upsetting her in advance. Wade doesn't want to deal with that.
Besides, he's pretty sure the reason Stryker didn't give him the file on Operation Fake Kayla's Death, or whatever its actual name was, is that Stryker doesn't want Kayla to know anything. He probably doesn't want Wade to know anything either. Most of what Wade knows, he found out from Zero and Blond Doctor. Wade doesn't think Stryker realizes how much everyone talks.
He wonders if someone's told Victor about the cancer, if Victor knows he's fucking a dying man. Stryker or Blond Doctor or someone else. Wade doesn't know if Zero knows either.
His thoughts wander back to Kayla. She'd looked all kinds of broken.
Wade rolls on his back and looks at the ceiling. Although it goes against his reputation, some things Wade doesn't give voice to.
But for every thought that passes unmentioned, there are at least three that get put out there. Sooner or later the dam always bursts.
His bedmate's slumbering peacefully next to him, but that never kept Wade's mouth closed before.
"I think Kayla's all fucked up in the head. You're really a vicious kitty, Victor, you know that?"
Even freshly roused from unconsciousness, Victor collects himself fast. Victor opens his eyes and looks at Wade scornfully. "And you're laboring under the impression that I care because...?" Only his gravelly voice belies the fact he was asleep.
Wade shrugs. "Oh, I'm not. Luckily for you, I don't judge. I'm just saying. I like you. We should have done this years ago."
Victor sighs, presumably at the interruption of his rest, and closes his eyes. He rubs his head into his pillow, resettling.
"It doesn't hurt that you're hotter than Blond Doctor."
Victor opens one eye. "Wade. Shut the hell up." The 'Or I'll choke you,' part is understood by now and goes unsaid.
"Fine, fine," Wade mutters. Victor really will choke him, which is no fun when it's not during sex. Or when it doesn't promptly lead in that direction.
Sometimes Wade thinks about wasting away to nothing and feels tempted to provoke Victor into killing him. Stryker would be seriously pissed at Victor afterward, so it would probably take quite a bit of doing, but Wade's still pretty sure he could accomplish it. Wade never fails at the things he sets his mind to. He's persistent like that. But so far he hasn't tried. He may be rotting from the inside out, but he doesn't feel sick. He's been hanging onto faint hope and Stryker's assurances. Wade doesn't completely trust Stryker, but he's been on the man's team for a long time.
Sometimes Wade thinks he must really be goddamn crazy as everyone tells him.
"Victor?" he whispers. "One more thing. It's important." It suddenly seems important that he tell Victor, and the low growl doesn't deter him. "Did you know I have cancer?"
Victor stops growling, and this time when he opens his eyes, he looks less grouchy and more serious.
"I know," Victor says quietly. In the semi-darkness Wade can see Victor regarding him steadily and without pity. "Stryker says he can fix it."
"Do you believe him?"
Victor nods. "Says Jimmy's healing factor will be more easily replicated than mine. Why, you don't?"
Wade bites his lip. "I don't know."
"How long you got left now if he can't?"
"Three months," Wade says apprehensively.
"That's a nice little window of time," Victor says after a moment, looking thoughtful. "I've seen a lot of men die who didn't get time like that. Young men."
"Seen? You've caused the deaths of a lot of young men. Have you ever fucked a dying man you didn't kill yourself?"
"Not that I know of... although I guess I am now..." Victor trails off, then shakes his head. "There's no sense worrying about it. If it's gonna happen, there's nothing you can do."
Wade raises his eyebrows. "Really? In my place, you'd be all like 'whatever, ommmm, I'm at peace with the universe'?"
"Well, no, but it's not happening to me."
An awesome thought occurs to Wade. "Hey, if I do end up dying, do I get a last request? Cause if so, I'd like to be on top for once."
Victor snorts.
"I'm serious!" Wade says indignantly. "What, you don't think I can top you? I can totally top you. I am so not letting you go to sleep until you admit I'm capable of topping you."
A drowsy half-smile drifts across Victor's face. "Don't worry, Wade, you're too annoying to die."
Wade thinks about that before taking it as the consolation he's sure Victor meant it to be. "Okay," he relents. "Thanks, Victor. You're a pro at this compassion stuff."
"Great. Now go to sleep, would you?"
Wade's eyelids are starting to agree, and he feels a yawn coming on. Maybe a solid eight hours wouldn't be a bad idea after all. "Oh, fine."
He closes his eyes. All right. Victor, Stryker and Blond Doctor all think he can make it. So, new goal. He's going to survive, no matter what happens.
And he's having a totally awesome time until that goal is met.
Wade Wilson feels suddenly, absurdly optimistic.
He's about to roll over and nestle against Victor when the other man moves first, turning onto his side and throwing a heavy, hairy arm over Wade's chest. Wade's startled, but it's nice. Victor's never snuggled up to him before, only the other way around. Wade rolls over onto his side anyway, so that his forehead's resting against Victor's shoulder and Victor's arm falls over his back. For a second he holds his breath to see if Victor will pull away.
Then he realizes Victor's already asleep.
With Victor's slow, measured breaths warm against his hair, Wade closes his eyes.
Pairing: Victor/Wade
Setting: X-Men Origins: Wolverine movieverse
Type: Established Relationship
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mild breath play. Anachronisms. Scrubs homage. Unbeta'ed.
Word Count: 4202
Summary: He'd idly thought about it for years, but seducing Victor didn't start to seem like a really excellent idea until he found out he had A) cancer and B) an estimated five months to live.
A/N: This is half the story, which overall is an AU starting with Plans and Assignments here. If you only want to read the Victor/Wade part of this sequel, press on; if you want to read the full sequel go to Conversations and Aftershocks here.
Aftershocks
by Randi
Wade walks down the corridor to Victor's room next. Their doors all have privacy locks and deadbolts. Victor keeps his door bolted, but Wade borrowed the key from Stryker's office a couple months ago and has no intention of ever putting it back.
He places the key back in his pocket before he slips inside the room.
Victor is on his bed watching tv, naked to the waist. Wade most often finds him wearing only a pair of old dark pants, soft and thin from many washings. Victor's eyes shift to him and then back to the television.
"Welcome back," Wade says, and gives Victor a saucy little smile. "How'd your assignment go?"
"The door could be locked for a reason, you know," Victor says, staring at the tv.
"Lover, I thought we had no secrets from each other," Wade says innocently. He takes off his swords in one quick gesture, leaning them against the wall, and sheds the harness that straps them to his back.
Victor scowls. "Don't call me that." The current of menace in his voice is undermined by the 'can't be bothered' vibe of his slouch. But Victor might look slightly pleased to see him. It's tough to tell. Victor can be hard to read. "Does Stryker know you can pick locks?"
"What are you talking about? I can't pick locks." Wade unlaces his boots.
Victor sighs and changes the subject. "Where've you been?"
"I went to bring Kayla dinner." Wade does a little shimmy as he kicks off the boots. "But you're the one who gets dessert," he announces coyly.
"And you could always come find me, you know, if you need something," he says pointedly. "We could fuck other places besides here. I've always wanted to get down and dirty in the lab. Make some happy memories there, you know? The lab could use an infusion of happy memories."
"C'mere," Victor says. He doesn't take his eyes off the television as he talks.
"'C'mere,' that's all I get? You're not even going to stand up to kiss me hello?"
Wade sighs, all drama. "Damn the romance phase went by fast."
Victor doesn't bother pointing out that he's never gotten up to kiss Wade hello.
When he finishes stripping off his socks, Wade obediently saunters over and hops up on the bed, standing above Victor. They've been fucking since Wade--masterfully, if he does think so himself--tempted Victor into it late one night two months ago. He'd idly thought about it for years, but seducing Victor didn't start to seem like a really excellent idea until he found out he had A) cancer and B) an estimated five months to live.
Wade glances at the tv. "I know you must love to watch the sharks and the big cats hunt, but do you ever watch anything besides nature programs?"
Victor's hand shoots out and seizes his ankle. Wade sees the hand coming in time to avoid it, but he lets Victor grab him. "Stop bouncing."
Wade obliges. "Do you realize we're going to be cooped up in here for a whole week?"
"Yes," Victor says, shutting off the tv and looking up at him. Finally looking at him. Wade likes having that intense gaze focused on him. He's invested considerable time and energy into getting Victor's attention.
"Well, I know it's going to be hard on you hiding out in here. On all of us really. I just wanted to volunteer my special services for keeping you from going out of your mind." Wade pulls his favorite red sleeveless top over his head, twirls it around a finger and flings it on the floor.
"Get down here," Victor says, tugging on his ankle. A few of Victor's nails have gotten hooked on the hem of his trousers, and instead of taking a moment to free them, Victor tears them out rather carelessly with a little noise of ripping fabric. Wade doesn't object to Victor shredding his clothes. He doesn't care much. Clothes are such a little deal. The big thing that always held him back from making a pass at Victor was fear of losing important body parts. Wade pulls his pants and boxers down, crumpling them into a pile of pants and underwear. He steps out of them and lightly kicks the pile onto the floor.
"Really, ask me about my special services." Wade plops down, bouncing Victor again and earning a scowl.
"You're almost more trouble than you're worth," Victor grumbles, but he seems distracted by the lines of of Wade's naked body.
"Nonsense. I'm unpredictable and you love it."
"You're annoying." Wade's kneeling close enough for Victor to grab an asscheek in his hand without having to reach. He squeezes hard enough to make Wade yelp.
"I bring much-needed fun to your life." Wade refuses to be anything but upbeat.
Victor rolls his eyes. "Fine, I'll play. Tell me about your special services."
"Well, I'll wash and detail your car for eight hundred dollars, or clean your room naked for the same amount. For a mere five hundred dollars I'll cook you dinner. My offer of a manicure is, as always, free to those in dire need of one." Wade picks up Victor's hand only to have it snatched away. He sniffs, but gets over it at the speed of light. He scoots closer, and angles his hips so his erection bumps Victor's side. "I could also suck you off, or you could take off those filthy slacks and fuck me in the ass already, and liven up my dull evening."
"Get that thing away from me," Victor says warningly.
"Sure, sure." Wade rolls over, presenting his ass. "You know, there is nothing in the world as fun as poking at your homophobia. If you're going to fuck guys, you might want to consider getting over your fear of the penis--OW!" Victor's hand pulls his hair a little harder. "OWWW! Okay, not fear, I take that back. Disgust, manly disgust." Victor slowly releases his handful of Wade's short, crisp hair. "Thank you. I'm hoping to keep my hair, you know." Wade pats his own head as if pressing the hairs back into his scalp.
"I'm sure you'll have cabin fever by the end of the week, but at least we're going to get the equivalent of room service. Sure, it's the same industrial complex high-protein crap we always eat, but we won't have to get out of bed. Think of that, kitty cat. We could do nothing but eat and sleep and fuck all week long."
"I'm not spending the week in bed with you," Victor says, but he looks like he's mulling it over.
"Okay, we can watch tv too. Eat and sleep and fuck and watch tv all week long."
Victor grunts.
Wade stretches, aware of Victor's gaze moving along the tanned musculature of his back, ass and legs.
"Well, we can't go down there starting right now. Stryker wants me to tell everyone. He's having the place fumigated to make absolutely sure Logan doesn't smell anything that tips him off to, y'know, you being here and me and Kayla not being dead."
Victor yawns. "Yeah, Stryker mentioned it half a dozen times already."
"I'm going to run out of junk food and then I'm gonna go nuts," Wade says sadly, then perks right back up. "You're going to have to help me through my withdrawal."
Victor gives him a look.
"Well, you got something more important to do? What are you planning to do to stay entertained while we're trapped up here?"
Victor doesn't have an immediate answer for that.
Wade smiles winningly and shakes his ass a little. He slicked himself up inside before delivering Kayla's dinner and debriefing, and while some of the lube's soaked into his skin, there's still enough slipperiness to keep things more or less comfortable.
Victor's pleasantly predictable. Dangle sex in front of him, even gay sex, and he gets interested. Wade supposes it beats a nonstop diet of hard alcohol, killing wild animals, fucking non-consenting civilians, and the Discovery channel. Victor gets up and moves out of sight. Wade feels him shifting on the bed behind him. Wade spreads his legs, and the next thing he feels is Victor's cock pressing against his ass, and Victor's bare legs resting inside his.
"Come on, tiger," Wade comments impatiently, twisting his head to look behind him. Victor always makes Wade pay for egging him on and saying the gay shit, but he can't help himself.
True to form, Victor slaps a hand on his balls threateningly. "Be quiet."
"You're the boss," Wade agrees quickly. He smiles over his shoulder at Victor. "I'll be good. I'll be--AAAH--quiet."
He winces when Victor leans down and bites him on his shoulder blade, and then he feels Victor's hands on his asscheeks, pulling them apart a little too roughly.
Victor lines things up and prods Wade's entrance with his cock. He pauses a moment, rubbing and teasing Wade before shoving the tip in seemingly as hard as he can. No more than a couple inches or so, but it's brutal enough to make Wade cry out. In a good way. In a mostly good, partly agonized way. Wade muffles his shout, but he knows it's still loud.
Victor takes Wade's wrists and pins them to the bed, supporting his weight and holding Wade down at the same time. Victor doesn't trouble himself to enter Wade's body particularly slowly, though he thrusts a tiny bit out and back in now and then on the way in. However, Wade gets the impression the little easing movements are not for his benefit so much as Victor's own pleasure.
Victor always takes his time, won't be rushed, and when he decides to get down to business, they're always on his schedule.
Victor's cock burns on the way in, and Wade whimpers, chewing his lower lip. It hurts like a motherfucker, but he loves it. Getting it up the butt from Victor is distracting. The specter of cancer fades away, if only temporarily. Sometimes when they fuck he forgets the cancer completely, which is quite magical even when it's only for a few precious minutes. Wade's always found enduring pain to be a nice reminder he's alive.
Causing death and mayhem isn't bad either.
"Isn't this fun? Is this not a much better use of your time than tv?" Wade says breathlessly.
"Shut up," Victor grunts.
When he's pushed his cock in as far as it'll go, Victor pauses, giving Wade a moment. He licks Wade's ear, swirling his tongue around. His whiskers tickle Wade's neck. Then he starts thrusting in and out. Victor's hips feel to Wade like a force of nature, flexing methodically, determinedly and without concern for Wade's insides, Wade's hard-on, or who might overhear the moaning sounds coming from Wade's mouth.
Wade tugs at his arm, trying to wriggle his wrist out of Victor's grip. "Can I--ahhhhh--can I have my hand back?"
Victor grinds into Wade hard. "I'll think about it."
Wade squeaks. "I want to come," he mumbles into the mattress.
Victor's only response is to curl his hands tighter around Wade's wrists, pricking Wade's flesh with the tips of his fingernails. Wade writhes under him, moaning loudly, no longer holding back. Victor doesn't do traditional foreplay, but he always hurts Wade, and to Wade it's foreplay enough.
Wade's cock aches where it presses against the bed. He moves his ass back against Victor, meeting his intense thrusts. Victor's more likely to let him come when Wade makes an obvious effort to please him. Victor's cock hits his prostate, and he hisses.
"Please Vic," he begs, when he gets his breath back.
"You love this." Victor sounds amused. He dips his head and suckles briefly on Wade's neck. Wade's discovered Victor likes marking him with bites and hickeys. It's like being back in high school, and a girl, or something. Sometimes Stryker or Zero momentarily eye the red spots left in Victor's wake, but Wade doesn't have the dignity to be embarrassed. He's happily shameless, and not just cause of the dying thing.
Victor finally lets go of his wrists and pulls out. "Roll over."
Wade quickly flips onto his back, his hand going instantly to his cock as Victor pushes back inside him. Wade can get close to coming just from having Victor's dick moving in and out of him. Between the fucking he's receiving, the biting and the scratching, he could go off at any second. And he wants to, before Victor finishes with him, and he can tell Victor's close too.
Victor puts a hand around his throat, not choking him, but definitely restricting his breathing. Victor fucks Wade until his thrusts get violent and his own breathing gets ragged. When he comes, Victor's hand tightens around Wade's neck, and he lets out an animalistic roar that's louder than any sound Wade's ever made.
When Victor sags and collapses on top of him, Wade's already lost to the world, his awareness narrowed to the need in his cock and the sensation from his ass. With a groan Wade blows his load in his hand, clutching his cock, with his muscles spasming rhythmically around Victor. The added clenching, just as Victor's orgasm is winding down, makes Victor growl from low in his chest. Finally Victor's hand lets up on Wade's throat.
Wade hangs on to consciousness by a thread.
It's that good.
Of course, when it's over, with Victor's weight still on him, he can't do much more than gulp air.
"Okay ... need to breathe," Wade gasps. Victor never gets off him until he asks. It's a routine of theirs, or perhaps just a routine of Victor's. Victor pulls out, leaving Wade panting and flushed.
Victor rolls off of him and rubs off his cock on the top sheet. Wade takes some fast breaths followed by some deep ones. He's expecting Victor to tell him to get out, since someone's supposedly going to be knocking on the door with breakfast in the morning, but Victor just falls asleep.
Victor can get unconscious faster than anyone Wade's ever met.
All the better.
Wade stretches, feeling cheerful and satisfied. The cancer diagnosis left him devastated and very much in the mood to fuck his brains out, and Victor's exceptionally good brain-fucking-out material. Wade thought his choice over very carefully before getting involved, and he ultimately decided Victor's hotter than the cute blond doctor who's the head of Stryker's surgical team, even though Blond Doctor is very smart and has a great rack. Wade's confident he could go there. He's got long, lean muscles and he's pretty good-looking. Plus chicks are suckers for a death's-door sob story, and his is shaping up to be a classic.
But Wade wasn't sure he liked the idea of fucking a surgeon who periodically operates on him. He'd have to be careful not to piss her off, and he was never that big a fan of medical porn anyway. Besides, Blond Doctor's super hot, but she doesn't seem like the type to take charge in bed.
Not like a certain catlike mutant Wade knows.
Victor snores softly. Wade thinks about getting up and stretching, or practicing his judo moves, but he doesn't feel like getting up, so he turns the tv back on and puts the volume down low. He hasn't slept too great since he found out about the sickness ravaging him cell by cell. Every second feels like it needs to be full and well-spent, like he needs to pack in every lively moment he can.
Victor's good for that, he thinks, glancing at the sleeping mutant affectionately.
Wade's tired, and sleepy from the orgasm, but not enough to justify wasting time sawing them off like Victor there. Tv, unlike sleeping, seems like a decent use of his time. Nothing's as useless as sleeping.
Tv's not as good as sex, but then, what is.
Looking around, it occurs to him that Victor's bed is queen-sized. His own bed is only a full. Totally not fair. He makes a mental note to complain next time he sees Stryker.
There's nothing good on tv, so Wade clicks it off. He turns on his side and watches Victor sleep for a while. Victor's chest rumbles as it rises and falls, and his face looks strangely peaceful at rest, softer, less like a bristly, dangerous mass murderer's than usual.
But then, Wade knows appearances can be deceiving. Wade hasn't visibly aged in five years, not since Stryker transplanted a portion of Victor's healing factor into his DNA. It worked, sort of. The genetic retooling's kept him looking the same, and although his body doesn't close a cut as fast as Victor's or Logan's, he heals faster than the average human now. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to stave off the disease that's apparently eating him from the inside out.
When he found out about the cancer, acting on the long-restrained impulse to get in Victor's pants seemed like not just a fun possibility to entertain on nights when he was drunk or particularly bored, but actually the best idea he'd had in years.
Victor didn't let him down. Wade always did like to work at getting a rise out of Victor, then dance away before he could get swatted. He's known for a long time, as they all pretty much have, that Victor's not picky about where he satisfies his sexual urges. Even so, Wade hadn't been sure about going for it since Victor was consistently pretty clear on the not liking him part. But he didn't feel like he had much to lose, and seducing Victor was good old-fashioned risky fun. Ultimately it was much easier than he expected.
After lifting the key from Stryker's office, he let himself into Victor's room one night to find the other man on the bed watching a Discovery show on bears. Victor was not at all happy about the intrusion, almost like a cranky, recently-out-of-hibernation bear himself. It was all, "What the fuck are you doing in here?" and things like that. Wade casually offered himself and had the satisfaction of seeing the other man's eyes narrow. Then he started taking off his clothes. It took a little convincing. Victor seemed doubtful at first but eventually got a calculating look in his eyes. Wade grins at the memory.
So that was one nice thing cancer's done for him.
Stryker's determined to get ahold of Logan's DNA and try again to tweak Wade's genes with it. Stryker's convinced Logan's healing factor will be easier to graft than Victor's. Stryker's promised him up and down that he's going to cure Wade's cancer.
Wade thinks about the part he didn't tell Kayla, that they're going to erase Logan's memories, make him a mindless zombie super-soldier. He's not sure how zombie-like Logan will be, but probably enough to be creepy. In part, he decided not to say anything because it would make her sad. A lot of people assume that because he talks so much, he's incapable of seeing and listening, but it's not true. Wade's observant as all get out. He has to be, or someone would have killed him a long time ago for talking too much. And he could read Kayla's feelings for Logan in every inch of her face.
There was no sense upsetting her in advance. Wade doesn't want to deal with that.
Besides, he's pretty sure the reason Stryker didn't give him the file on Operation Fake Kayla's Death, or whatever its actual name was, is that Stryker doesn't want Kayla to know anything. He probably doesn't want Wade to know anything either. Most of what Wade knows, he found out from Zero and Blond Doctor. Wade doesn't think Stryker realizes how much everyone talks.
He wonders if someone's told Victor about the cancer, if Victor knows he's fucking a dying man. Stryker or Blond Doctor or someone else. Wade doesn't know if Zero knows either.
His thoughts wander back to Kayla. She'd looked all kinds of broken.
Wade rolls on his back and looks at the ceiling. Although it goes against his reputation, some things Wade doesn't give voice to.
But for every thought that passes unmentioned, there are at least three that get put out there. Sooner or later the dam always bursts.
His bedmate's slumbering peacefully next to him, but that never kept Wade's mouth closed before.
"I think Kayla's all fucked up in the head. You're really a vicious kitty, Victor, you know that?"
Even freshly roused from unconsciousness, Victor collects himself fast. Victor opens his eyes and looks at Wade scornfully. "And you're laboring under the impression that I care because...?" Only his gravelly voice belies the fact he was asleep.
Wade shrugs. "Oh, I'm not. Luckily for you, I don't judge. I'm just saying. I like you. We should have done this years ago."
Victor sighs, presumably at the interruption of his rest, and closes his eyes. He rubs his head into his pillow, resettling.
"It doesn't hurt that you're hotter than Blond Doctor."
Victor opens one eye. "Wade. Shut the hell up." The 'Or I'll choke you,' part is understood by now and goes unsaid.
"Fine, fine," Wade mutters. Victor really will choke him, which is no fun when it's not during sex. Or when it doesn't promptly lead in that direction.
Sometimes Wade thinks about wasting away to nothing and feels tempted to provoke Victor into killing him. Stryker would be seriously pissed at Victor afterward, so it would probably take quite a bit of doing, but Wade's still pretty sure he could accomplish it. Wade never fails at the things he sets his mind to. He's persistent like that. But so far he hasn't tried. He may be rotting from the inside out, but he doesn't feel sick. He's been hanging onto faint hope and Stryker's assurances. Wade doesn't completely trust Stryker, but he's been on the man's team for a long time.
Sometimes Wade thinks he must really be goddamn crazy as everyone tells him.
"Victor?" he whispers. "One more thing. It's important." It suddenly seems important that he tell Victor, and the low growl doesn't deter him. "Did you know I have cancer?"
Victor stops growling, and this time when he opens his eyes, he looks less grouchy and more serious.
"I know," Victor says quietly. In the semi-darkness Wade can see Victor regarding him steadily and without pity. "Stryker says he can fix it."
"Do you believe him?"
Victor nods. "Says Jimmy's healing factor will be more easily replicated than mine. Why, you don't?"
Wade bites his lip. "I don't know."
"How long you got left now if he can't?"
"Three months," Wade says apprehensively.
"That's a nice little window of time," Victor says after a moment, looking thoughtful. "I've seen a lot of men die who didn't get time like that. Young men."
"Seen? You've caused the deaths of a lot of young men. Have you ever fucked a dying man you didn't kill yourself?"
"Not that I know of... although I guess I am now..." Victor trails off, then shakes his head. "There's no sense worrying about it. If it's gonna happen, there's nothing you can do."
Wade raises his eyebrows. "Really? In my place, you'd be all like 'whatever, ommmm, I'm at peace with the universe'?"
"Well, no, but it's not happening to me."
An awesome thought occurs to Wade. "Hey, if I do end up dying, do I get a last request? Cause if so, I'd like to be on top for once."
Victor snorts.
"I'm serious!" Wade says indignantly. "What, you don't think I can top you? I can totally top you. I am so not letting you go to sleep until you admit I'm capable of topping you."
A drowsy half-smile drifts across Victor's face. "Don't worry, Wade, you're too annoying to die."
Wade thinks about that before taking it as the consolation he's sure Victor meant it to be. "Okay," he relents. "Thanks, Victor. You're a pro at this compassion stuff."
"Great. Now go to sleep, would you?"
Wade's eyelids are starting to agree, and he feels a yawn coming on. Maybe a solid eight hours wouldn't be a bad idea after all. "Oh, fine."
He closes his eyes. All right. Victor, Stryker and Blond Doctor all think he can make it. So, new goal. He's going to survive, no matter what happens.
And he's having a totally awesome time until that goal is met.
Wade Wilson feels suddenly, absurdly optimistic.
He's about to roll over and nestle against Victor when the other man moves first, turning onto his side and throwing a heavy, hairy arm over Wade's chest. Wade's startled, but it's nice. Victor's never snuggled up to him before, only the other way around. Wade rolls over onto his side anyway, so that his forehead's resting against Victor's shoulder and Victor's arm falls over his back. For a second he holds his breath to see if Victor will pull away.
Then he realizes Victor's already asleep.
With Victor's slow, measured breaths warm against his hair, Wade closes his eyes.
