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kat_lair***
Title: Magical Healing Dangly Bits
Author: MistressKat /kat_lair
Fandom: Marvel (Deadpool/X-Men)
Characters: Deadpool/Wade Wilson, Logan
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 431
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: Because really, who else is Wade going to ask?
Author notes: Written for randomly selected fandom and prompt (magical healing cock)
“So, there’s this thing that’s been on my mind for—”
“I’m impressed,” Logan mutters.
“Of course you are.” Wade preens a bit. “What about exactly though? Be precise.” He lifts his hood enough to take a sip of his Tequila Sunrise. A long one. About the size of half a glass.
“That you can keep one thing in your mind.” Logan grins, all teeth and surly mirth. It’s an improvement on the preceding hours of monosyllabic grunts and the constant edge of violence.
Not that Wade can’t appreciate those too, you understand. He’s a flexible guy, he’s learned to appreciate all sorts of things over the last couple of years. Nothing like being reborn like a primordial cater to make you smell the roses and all that.
“Hardy-har-har,” he says. “But seriously. You’ve got a few decades on me at this ‘can’t die without swallowing a nuclear warhead’ thing. And let’s be honest, if they made them in the right size I would eat that like a corn dog at Coney Island. In fact, let’s you and I make a date of it when the time comes.”
Logan stares at him as if he’s grown another head. Surreptitiously, Wade pats at his own shoulders, just to check. After all, you never know.
“So,” he continues having established that cranial quantity is still at comforting one, “I’ve got to ask, matey: STIs. Where exactly are we at that?”
Logan’s stare gets harder. It’s a bit like being pierced by a pair of adamantium daggers. Kind of tickles around the sternum.
But Wade is committed now. And curious. It’s a combination that has led him into all sorts of interesting and occasionally painful situations before – his current existential crisis included – so why give up on a good thing now?
“Like gonorrhoea? Scabies? What about chlamydia? Genital warts? Do they take at all or do your dangly bits like actively repel any and all nasty diseases?”
Logan blinks at him before slamming his empty glass on the table. “This conversation is over,” he announces, getting to his feet.
“Aww no, don’t be like that!” Wade whines. “I just want to learn more about our magical healing cocks!”
But Logan is already out of the door, not sparing even a wave in goodbye. Rude. Because really, who else is Wade going to ask?
Then again, it’s not like either of them is going anywhere anytime soon. Wade brightens at the thought of ‘next time’, signalling the bar tender for another cocktail.
“Make it a Blow Job,” he requests. After all, practice is never wasted.
***
Title: Magical Healing Dangly Bits
Author: MistressKat /
kat_lair Fandom: Marvel (Deadpool/X-Men)
Characters: Deadpool/Wade Wilson, Logan
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 431
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing
Summary: Because really, who else is Wade going to ask?
Author notes: Written for randomly selected fandom and prompt (magical healing cock)
“So, there’s this thing that’s been on my mind for—”
“I’m impressed,” Logan mutters.
“Of course you are.” Wade preens a bit. “What about exactly though? Be precise.” He lifts his hood enough to take a sip of his Tequila Sunrise. A long one. About the size of half a glass.
“That you can keep one thing in your mind.” Logan grins, all teeth and surly mirth. It’s an improvement on the preceding hours of monosyllabic grunts and the constant edge of violence.
Not that Wade can’t appreciate those too, you understand. He’s a flexible guy, he’s learned to appreciate all sorts of things over the last couple of years. Nothing like being reborn like a primordial cater to make you smell the roses and all that.
“Hardy-har-har,” he says. “But seriously. You’ve got a few decades on me at this ‘can’t die without swallowing a nuclear warhead’ thing. And let’s be honest, if they made them in the right size I would eat that like a corn dog at Coney Island. In fact, let’s you and I make a date of it when the time comes.”
Logan stares at him as if he’s grown another head. Surreptitiously, Wade pats at his own shoulders, just to check. After all, you never know.
“So,” he continues having established that cranial quantity is still at comforting one, “I’ve got to ask, matey: STIs. Where exactly are we at that?”
Logan’s stare gets harder. It’s a bit like being pierced by a pair of adamantium daggers. Kind of tickles around the sternum.
But Wade is committed now. And curious. It’s a combination that has led him into all sorts of interesting and occasionally painful situations before – his current existential crisis included – so why give up on a good thing now?
“Like gonorrhoea? Scabies? What about chlamydia? Genital warts? Do they take at all or do your dangly bits like actively repel any and all nasty diseases?”
Logan blinks at him before slamming his empty glass on the table. “This conversation is over,” he announces, getting to his feet.
“Aww no, don’t be like that!” Wade whines. “I just want to learn more about our magical healing cocks!”
But Logan is already out of the door, not sparing even a wave in goodbye. Rude. Because really, who else is Wade going to ask?
Then again, it’s not like either of them is going anywhere anytime soon. Wade brightens at the thought of ‘next time’, signalling the bar tender for another cocktail.
“Make it a Blow Job,” he requests. After all, practice is never wasted.
***