[Cable & Deadpool] Inked
Jun. 15th, 2010 10:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rallamajoopThe good news is I'm done with the finished draft of part 4 of Good Intentions, the bad news is that my beta reader is likely to be too flat out to look at it for a couple of weeks. But of course I can always get working on the incredibly convoluted logistics of part 5 while I'm waiting.
In the meantime, have a completely unrelated ficlet:
Title: Inked
Summary: Cable wakes up with a bad hangover and a very smug boyfriend.
Word Count: 740
Rating: PG
“This,” said Cable, “is the last time I ever let you get me drunk.” A damp towel over his eyes was doing very little for the throbbing headache he'd woken up with, nor were either headache or towel doing much about the persistent sting of another part of his anatomy. The hangover ensured everything hurt more than it had any right to.
“Not even in the name of scientific enquiry?” said Wade, from somewhere nearby. The towel meant Cable couldn't see his expression, but picturing it took no great leap of imagination – Wade radiated enough pure, gleeful satisfaction that they could probably feel it from the next room. “The man tells me his TO-enhanced liver is as efficient as my healing-factor, so as the Mythbusters would say, what can we do but put it to the test?”
“Scientific enquiry. Of course,” Cable muttered. “I suppose that's why the tattoo reads, 'Busted', is it?”
“Ooh, we should get you that one too! Right across the kidneys.”
“I'll pass.”
“Hey, don't be like that, sweety. Sure, you woke up with a permanent tattoo that you were too passed-out-drunk to remember getting-”
“They can be removed these days.” If he'd been more sober, it probably would have been easier to make up his mind why pointing this out was so important.
“-but you know I'd get one to match – if it weren't for how they don't really take on my complexion.”
Cable cracked open an eye, and lifted the towel just a little. “You would, would you?”
“Absolutely! In the hypothetical land where it would last longer than it took to get it done, you'd just name the body part and your choice of serifed-or-unserifed-fonts, and it'd be a done deal.”
That was the thing about Wade – here Cable was, hung over, humiliated, and it was still all he could do to stop himself cracking a smile.
“And to think most couples wanting to make a point of their dedication would have just gone for an engagement ring.” This came out sounding like rather more of an ultimatum than it had in his head, but Wade took it in his stride.
“You're disappointing me here, Nate, all those years in the future and that's the best token of affection they've got? Tradition, shamradition, where's the subtlety in strapping a great big rock to your finger? The spontaneity? I thought you deserved something a little more personal.”
“Personal, I'll grant you...”
“What could be more personal than my personal name in a personal place on your person?”
“But 'subtle'?”
“You know what they say in business, it's all about location, location, location,” Wade thumped the table on each 'location', making a noise that echoed around Cable's skull in unpleasant ways. “Face it, you could go out in speedos and no-one but you and me would ever know it's there.”
Cable dropped both the towel and an arm back over his eyes. Likely no-one but he and Wade would have noticed the slight emphasis on 'in speedos' either, but the meaning was about as subtle as his new tattoo. “This is about my attitude to casual nudity, isn't it?”
“It's like. I. Said,” said Wade, in a voice laden with the empty magnanimity of the victor, “if you want to parade that very fine arse of yours around in public – possibly around certain panda-faced ex-girlfriends or journalists-turned-chief-of-staff who I shall leave politely nameless – that's fine and peachy by me – just as long as I can make sure they know where things stand vis-a-vis the proper and official ownership of said posterior. Up to you, Nate.”
“And that's why I woke up today with 'property of Deadpool' tattooed on it,” Cable groaned. “I should've known.”
With his eyes shut again and sound muffled under the towel, he only barely heard the soft of thump of Wade settling down in front of him, followed by the sensation of the hands landing on the sides of his thighs and running their way up towards what he now had written assurance was Wade's favourite part of his anatomy.
“What can I say, Nate,” said a Wade who almost certainly knew he was smiling under the towel, “don't we all get a little possessive once in a while?”
In the meantime, have a completely unrelated ficlet:
Title: Inked
Summary: Cable wakes up with a bad hangover and a very smug boyfriend.
Word Count: 740
Rating: PG
“This,” said Cable, “is the last time I ever let you get me drunk.” A damp towel over his eyes was doing very little for the throbbing headache he'd woken up with, nor were either headache or towel doing much about the persistent sting of another part of his anatomy. The hangover ensured everything hurt more than it had any right to.
“Not even in the name of scientific enquiry?” said Wade, from somewhere nearby. The towel meant Cable couldn't see his expression, but picturing it took no great leap of imagination – Wade radiated enough pure, gleeful satisfaction that they could probably feel it from the next room. “The man tells me his TO-enhanced liver is as efficient as my healing-factor, so as the Mythbusters would say, what can we do but put it to the test?”
“Scientific enquiry. Of course,” Cable muttered. “I suppose that's why the tattoo reads, 'Busted', is it?”
“Ooh, we should get you that one too! Right across the kidneys.”
“I'll pass.”
“Hey, don't be like that, sweety. Sure, you woke up with a permanent tattoo that you were too passed-out-drunk to remember getting-”
“They can be removed these days.” If he'd been more sober, it probably would have been easier to make up his mind why pointing this out was so important.
“-but you know I'd get one to match – if it weren't for how they don't really take on my complexion.”
Cable cracked open an eye, and lifted the towel just a little. “You would, would you?”
“Absolutely! In the hypothetical land where it would last longer than it took to get it done, you'd just name the body part and your choice of serifed-or-unserifed-fonts, and it'd be a done deal.”
That was the thing about Wade – here Cable was, hung over, humiliated, and it was still all he could do to stop himself cracking a smile.
“And to think most couples wanting to make a point of their dedication would have just gone for an engagement ring.” This came out sounding like rather more of an ultimatum than it had in his head, but Wade took it in his stride.
“You're disappointing me here, Nate, all those years in the future and that's the best token of affection they've got? Tradition, shamradition, where's the subtlety in strapping a great big rock to your finger? The spontaneity? I thought you deserved something a little more personal.”
“Personal, I'll grant you...”
“What could be more personal than my personal name in a personal place on your person?”
“But 'subtle'?”
“You know what they say in business, it's all about location, location, location,” Wade thumped the table on each 'location', making a noise that echoed around Cable's skull in unpleasant ways. “Face it, you could go out in speedos and no-one but you and me would ever know it's there.”
Cable dropped both the towel and an arm back over his eyes. Likely no-one but he and Wade would have noticed the slight emphasis on 'in speedos' either, but the meaning was about as subtle as his new tattoo. “This is about my attitude to casual nudity, isn't it?”
“It's like. I. Said,” said Wade, in a voice laden with the empty magnanimity of the victor, “if you want to parade that very fine arse of yours around in public – possibly around certain panda-faced ex-girlfriends or journalists-turned-chief-of-staff who I shall leave politely nameless – that's fine and peachy by me – just as long as I can make sure they know where things stand vis-a-vis the proper and official ownership of said posterior. Up to you, Nate.”
“And that's why I woke up today with 'property of Deadpool' tattooed on it,” Cable groaned. “I should've known.”
With his eyes shut again and sound muffled under the towel, he only barely heard the soft of thump of Wade settling down in front of him, followed by the sensation of the hands landing on the sides of his thighs and running their way up towards what he now had written assurance was Wade's favourite part of his anatomy.
“What can I say, Nate,” said a Wade who almost certainly knew he was smiling under the towel, “don't we all get a little possessive once in a while?”
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Date: 2010-06-16 03:05 am (UTC)For some reason, I like "right across the kidneys" the best.
Cable is going to be watching what he drinks a lot more carefully for a while, but that doesn't mean Wade can't dream, right?