warnings: crossovers, fateverse, sci-fi, naughty language.
disclaimer: it's all owned by Fox and Marvel.
timeline: not really spoilery, but set probably a few years after Deadpool 2; set concurrently with Have You Tried Magic? (a Fateverse side story).
notes: 1) Once upon a '90s comic, Wade was paid to kill Nate, got his ass kicked, and was returned to his employer in multiple boxes. And that's how they met. 2) Paperlate is a song by the band Genesis. Get it? *awkward laughter* 3) If you're not into the Gone With the Wind dip, perhaps more of a Westley-style romancing. *shrug* As you wish…
Chicken Soup (for the Dimension-Hopping Soul)
Wade is cooking something. There's a knife in his hand, diced veggies on the board, a sound and smell of simmering chicken broth.
Thing is, he doesn't recognize this kitchen.
His bare arms are in rough shape—not one of the pretty bodies, then. He's got a 'kiss the cook' apron on over a pair of jeans and a Broadway shirt (A Little Night Music, one of his favorite Sondheims).
Wasting good food is a shitty thing to do, so Wade adds the vegetables to the broth and covers the pot.
The living room is an eye-opener.
It's all…domestic, like back at the X-mansion. Not that big, and not quite so old-white-money. But there's a nice TV, a recliner, and a comfy-looking couch, plus blankets and throw pillows and shit like that. The coffee table has probably seen better days, but it looks solid enough under a thin layer of junkmail, quasi-dirty dishes, and remotes.
A telenovela is playing on low volume—some hottie with a heaving bosom is insistent about something, while some other hottie looks shocked, cue tearful embrace and awful too-thorough screen kiss.
And holy fucking inescapable super-mutant know-it-all beautiful bastard.
There's a Nate asleep on the couch with hands folded on his stomach and legs stretched out under the edge of the coffee table. One of the normal-sized, deceptively svelte ones. That's kinda hot (Wade has been boyfriendless for eight weeks, and he's an attention whore at the best of times, fuck off).
He settles into Nate's lap and leans down to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth (cherry chapstick, how predictable); there's a firm jab against his ribs. "Is that an awesome future super-gun, or are you just happy to see me?"
"It's a gun, fuckwit—you know better than to sneak up on a sleeping soldier."
Ooh, a Gritty Nate. They've usually grown out of that by the time they start to spend much time around Wade…it's a nice change from Condescending Super-Jesus Nate.
"Do I?" Wade asks innocently. "If I'd been an enemy, I coulda deaded you five times by now, sugarplum."
"Jackass," Nate says in that gruff, grudgingly fond way of the Nates who cheerfully FedEx Wades back to their employers for having the audacity to attempt to assassinate them.
"You love it."
The gun goes away, and Nate settles his hands on Wade's thighs. "How's the soup coming?"
"Almost done, just gotta cook the veggies."
"Good—the kids're probably driving Dom nuts."
Wade's brain stops and restarts. "Kids."
Nate gives him a 'you fucking moron' glare. "Did you get shot in the head when I wasn't looking? Russell and what's-her-name from last week. Evan gave them the flu. Any of this sound familiar?"
Evan. "Right, I'll just go check on Paperlate," Wade says vaguely, clambering off Nate's lap.
Any time you wanna fucking chime in, brain…
His host brain tells him they're in a townhouse in Queens, Neena snagged it at an estate sale, it doubles as X-Force headquarters, they're a second home for kids who don't feel at home with Baldy and his judgy little spandex band…
Down the hall is a pair of open guest rooms (and Al's room, where it sounds like she's listening to reruns of My Three Sons), up the stairs is Wade's room (that Nate lives in despite refusing to admit that they're in a long-term poly-whatsit), Neena's room (because she doesn't like sleeping-sleeping with other people), Evan's room…
His hand shakes on the knob, and he feels stupid for it. It might not even be Evan, but just some kid with the same name.
Something loosens in his chest when he opens the door and yes, it's Evan-Evan, not some rando. Fourteen and stringy, exactly the way he is in Wade's fondest memories of him.
And reading a book on the beanbag in the corner.
"Hey, sicko, you should be in bed," Wade scolds.
"But I was bored!" Evan explains, pouting.
"Eventually, you're gonna outgrow that pout. You'll get old, and it'll stop being adorable, and Nate 'n Neena will divorce us and run off to be deadbeat dads together."
Evan giggles. "Don't be dumb, Wade. You couldn't get rid of Cable if you tried, and Dom wouldn't just leave me to be raised by you two."
"I'm serious about you getting back into bed, young man. Chicken soup's almost ready. If I come back in here with your soup and your skinny grey butt isn't in bed, there'll be trouble."
Evan grins at him. "Yes, sir."
"Wiseass. You need to get better so I can stop worrying."
Aha. Dad-pool uses Guilt Trip…it's super effective!
Evan obediently climbs into bed. "Sorry, Wade," he says.
Wade smiles in approval. "How the fuck did you end up such a good kid with a step-foster-thing like me?"
"Because you're awesome at being a dad," Evan says firmly.
"Love you, Ebbie," Wade mumbles, and ducks out before his brain can remind him that Ness had said he'd be good at this.
He sniffs, blinks his eyes dry.
"You okay?" Nate asks against his shoulder.
"Jesus, speaking of sneaking the fuck up on people!" Wade complains, but doesn't step out of the loose grip on his hips. "I just…I used to have big plans about the kind of dad I'd be, talked a pretty big game before—before y'know—but I didn't actually think I'd be good at it."
"Don't be a dipshit; you were always gonna be good at it. Ask Russell sometime."
"It's still kind of creepy when you're all supportive and shit. But kinda hot, too. Like that younger Skarsgård kid, minus the acid puke. I like it."
"Asshole," Nate says affectionately.
"I also like that you're shorter than I am in this continuity," Wade goes on, turning around and hooking the back of Nate's neck in preparation for some Rhett-Butler-style romancing. "It makes it way easier to—"
He wakes up to electrodes and wizards and that smug-ass Savant bastard.
"What the tits!" Wade yells. "I was about to kiss the hell outta Josh Brolin—I've had a crush on him since Goonies!"
"Huh, me too," the Savant admits.
"Send me back!"
"We still don't know how, numb-nuts."
"Oh, ew, don't call me shit like that right now—their Nate was all X-Force era and badass and mean, but nice-mean, and you're giving me a really confusing boner."
.End.