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[It's strange that wearing something other than his spandex ensemble would make him feel more naked in public, but there it was. Wade always was a master of contradictions. Even with the image enhancer in place, which gives him the appearance of what he'd looked like years before the cancer, the absence of cloth covering his face is enough to make him feel a little uncomfortable. But this place has recently opened, and he supposes they're not exactly used to costumed superheroes traipsing right on through. Not yet, anyway. Give it a few weeks.

As he sits there, alone in an unfamiliar Indian restaurant after waving away the waitress for the second time, he once again entertains the notion that he's been stood up. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened to him, and it's not as if he was prepared to make a big deal out of today anyway. After all, he's had tons of birthdays come and go without incident in his lifetime. What's one more?

Still, something causes him to keep glancing over at the entrance, waiting for a familiar face to come walking through. There must be some reason he keeps waiting, some reason he keeps holding back from eating a solo dinner and leaving to resume the festivities in the solitude of his apartment. It may seem pathetic and more than a little schmaltzy, but this is the first time Wade's ever had a chance to share this day with someone else in quite a long time.

He supposes that's worth waiting for, even for just another five minutes.]

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[Wade raises an incredulous eyebrow at Travis's confession. His teacher? Really, how sordid of a past does this guy have? He can tell by the halting tone of his voice; the way he shifts in place that he's uncomfortable with the topic, and so Wade decides not to question further. After all, the last thing he wants is for Travis to be uncomfortable.]

Hey, you were pretty unexpected yourself. Even after that first night. And that call a few days later, when you were tryin' to work around askin' me if you could come over for round two-- didja know you sounded so awkward on the phone? So much different from that usual attitude you put on.

[Wade grins at the recollection.] I felt like I was listenin' to Baby's First Booty Call. It was kind of adorable, really. Heh. Guess that was part of the reason why I--

[He stops short. The smile slowly fades from his face as he grows silent; contemplative.]

[His tone's a little flustered; is the theme of the night is "embarrass Travis" or what.]

H-hey, it's not like I go around calling people up for that kind of stuff all the time, cut me some slack! I wasn't that awkward, either.

[Travis falls silent, listening to Wade, but when the other man stops short, it feels his heart's stalled. His mind immediately goes to both extremes-- whatever Wade's going to say is going to either be very bad and very painful, or... something he doesn't know if he's ready to hear yet.]

Why you... why you what?

[Is his voice hoarser? God. He knew it. Shouldn't have kissed him; should have just left it be.]

[Wade sighs; shakes his head.]

It's... look, I really don't wanna ruin the mood here. This whole night's been great. One of the best birthdays I've ever had. But there's just somethin' I need to get off my chest.

Y'know I never got to tell you why I threw the fight? At the hotel, I mean. Figured you'd wanna know about it sooner or later-- might as well be now. I know you think I'm still an asshole for doing somethin' like that. Any other instance you would've been right. Any other instance it'd be just for kicks. 'Cause I was bored and I wanted to troll you super hard or something.

'Cept... I didn't do it for kicks this time. I did it because... look, there was only one person who was gonna die in there. 'N that person woulda been you. Without fail. I'm not sayin' that because you suck or anything like that, it's just... I got a healing factor. A good one. An' you don't. There was only one way that fight was gonna end. And I just... I didn't want that to happen. You dyin'. Me killin' you. It just... wasn't how I wanted things to go, y'know? Even though I was paid to do it, I just... I dunno. Ever since we ran into each other at the hotel things have been... weird. Not sure what changed.

Like I said, before we got into this whole... situation, I thought you were just some egotistical douche with a silver spoon up his ass. Didn't know anything about what it was like to be dealt a raw deal by life. Then... I dunno. I just kept thinkin' back to the way you looked at me back there, back when you thought I was dead. No assassin as cocky as you make yourself out to be looks at his kills like that. Nobody's ever looked at me like that. Not for a while, anyway.

'N that was before the whole story with Bishop came out, and then I started really thinkin' about you and how you're interesting and funny and a blast to hang out with and real easy to talk to and you actually wanted to celebrate my birthday and...

[Wade breaks off; chuckles wryly to himself.] I dunno. Maybe it's just afterglow or somethin'. Long-term afterglow. That's a thing, right? Whatever.

[He suddenly casts a shy, sidelong smile over at Travis.]

I just, uh... [He swallows hard.] I think you're cool. I think you're really cool. Now.

[He doesn't give Travis a chance to respond to that. His cheeks are warm, and he's not sure whether it's the alcohol or some semblance of embarrassment over what he's just said. With a groan, Wade flops over onto the arm of the couch; covers his face with his hands. His voice is muffled.]

Jesus, I'm wasted. Don' ever let me drink this much again, promise? I get like... diarrhea of the mouth when I'm this drunk. Moreso than usual, I mean.

[How the hell can anyone be so utterly pleased and so flat out terrified at the same time?

The entire debacle at the hotel had been pushed far out of Travis' mind, at least tonight. Returning to that discomfort is jarring, and it doesn't take long for Travis to stop meeting Wade's eyes as he continues on: not so much for any of his lingering feelings, but for Wade's.

Does it really matter that much to Wade? Whether he lives or dies? It... it does, doesn't it?

The sheer weight of this realization-- someone, this someone, actually likes him without hooks or agendas, and he likes him back-- is almost too much. Travis swallows. He's speechless, and scared. But... happy. And he's a little worried about what that means for him.]

Nah, it's-- it's all right, you already know how bad I start to mouth off when I'm drunk. [He rests a comforting hand on Wade's shoulder, and hesitantly he returns that smile.]

You're not half bad yourself. Pretty great, actually. And thanks. For, well. For giving a damn.

Thank you for caring that much.

Heh. No problem. Who else's gonna be my babysitter when I'm this drunk, huh?

[It's clear to Wade that's he's said entirely too much. His face is hot, and he's pretty sure it's not from all the alcohol he's consumed tonight. He reaches up and rests his hand on top of Travis's for a few seconds before gently pulling it off of him (their palms touch for the briefest of moments, and he doesn't understand why his heart kicks itself into a trot because of it), clumsily rising into a sitting position again.]

Y'know... 'm kinda tired now. Think I'm gonna lie down. You gonna be okay? That couch turns into a futon, by th' way. In case you wanted to sleep out here.

[In case he wanted to sleep out here? Where the hell else was Travis gonna sleep? Wade doesn't know, nor does he bother to elaborate on what he's just said. Right now he's drunk and contemplative and stupidly maudlin and it's best that he gets away before he says something even more idiotic tonight. Trust him to open his big mouth and potentially ruin everything. This is why he can't have nice things.]

Edited 2013-07-10 08:39 (UTC)

Well, I probably fucked that babysitting gig up, since you're the one who ended up taking care of me. [He gestures to his bandaged torso to illustrate.] I'll be fine.

[Travis pauses. "In case he wanted to"-- what's that supposed to mean?]

But it might be a good idea for me to watch you. Make sure you stay on your side and stuff. [How many more times can he blame the alcohol (that's nearly out of his system, by the way) for his lapses of judgment tonight? He's pushing this too far.] If you're all right with me sticking around for a bit.

[Wade chuckles, running his hand along the top of his head.]

You don't need to worry about me. Haven't gotten sick in ages. Bein' drunk's no exception. But, uh... thanks. For hangin' around and stuff. I don't mind.

[He lurches to his feet, swaying a little and reaching a hand back to grasp the arm of the chair, just in case. When he's sure he's steady, he begins the arduous task of toddling in the direction of the bedroom. It's suddenly way too hot-- he's already unbuttoning his shirt before he's even halfway there.]

Yeah, but--

[Travis quickly gets to his feet and follows after Wade; the fact that he can't even remember how much this guy's had to drink probably isn't a great sign.]

--it's still gonna hurt if you fall over and crack your damn head open on the sink. Might knock you into bein' sober, though. Let me help.

[says travis, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Wade's shirt is half off already.]

Heh. Pretty sure I still know where my own bedroom is, pal. Haven't lost my sense of direction that much.

[All the same, he briefly pauses at the doorframe, sagging a bit as the intoxication and the weariness momentarily overtakes him. It's been a very eventful night, all things considered, and healing from multiple injuries does tend to take a lot out of you.

His shirt, freed from its confines, slowly slips off his shoulders to the floor, and he can't really be arsed to pick it up. Well, that and he's afraid that bending over will just cause him to plummet to the floor along with it.]

That ain't the issue here.

[So this is what it's like taking care of somebody drunker than he is. Travis stoops down to pick up the shirt.]

If you're allowed to worry about me, I should be able to do the same for you. Just lemme help you.

[Honest? Check. Still pretty gay? Also check. At least there's no guarantee Wade'll remember it at all in the morning. He chucks the shirt at the nearest chair-- he's being helpful, not neat.]

[Wade gives a sigh that's as much from weariness as it is from impatience. Sheesh, you'd think he was still in diapers or something.]

Fiiiine. 'f it makes you feel any better. Gimme your shoulder. I'm, uh... kinda wonderin' which bed to get into anyway. Seein' two of 'em right now. Point me in the right direction, okay Trav?

That's the spirit. [Two beds, huh. Travis is privately proud of being right about him needing help-- damn it feels good to be right. He doesn't comment on it, though, and moves over to Wade and offers him his shoulder, helping him over to the bed.

It's... kind of nice, getting to take care of somebody like this.]

You got it?

[It's a good thing Wade conceded when he did. The minute he leans into Travis's shoulder, he stumbles, his arm instinctively wrapping around Travis's body before he falls.]

Heh. Whoops.

[With Travis's help, he shambles his way across the room at a snail's pace. Luckily the bed isn't that far. He nods in response to Travis's question, swaying a little. Oof. Gotta be more careful with that.]

Yeah. Yeah, I'm good.

[He doesn't move. Travis is warm. Very warm. Wade presses against him, letting out a small hum of approval. Who knew that skin-on-skin contact could feel so nice?]

[This is the second time he's held him up like this tonight, and it's just as comfortable as it was before. Wade's weight on his shoulder aside.]

Geez, Wade. [He chuckles lightly, sitting them both down on the bed.] You usually handle yourself this well when you're plastered?

[But he's reluctant to let go of Wade again.] Go ahead and lie down. [And be the one to detach first so he doesn't have to.]

[Travis's lips are so distracting when he talks. Wade stares at them, barely even comprehending what Travis is saying, wanting nothing more than to taste those lips again, to lie with him on the bed and just let the chips fall where they may; to somehow end this day on an even higher note than it's already been progressing.

But he's so tired, and drunk as he is he's liable to screw it up. This has been a fantastic day, all things considered. Best to just quit while he's ahead, as much as he wants to do the complete opposite. He's already been too loose with information, he can tell.

Grudgingly he relinquishes his hold on Travis, shifting forward a little so that his head hits the pillow when he lowers himself down. It takes quite a bit of effort and some detangling of his legs, but he manages to get himself underneath the covers. The bed is amazingly comfortable-- has it always been this comfortable? Feels like he's lying on a cloud-- and he can feel his eyelids growing heavier even as he struggles to remain awake.

Wade knows he's fading, and he knows there's a big dopey grin on his face right now, but try as he might he can't suppress it. He's happy, drunkenness aside. He hasn't felt this relaxed-- this content-- in quite a long time.]

Man... [A soft chuckle.] What're you doing to me? Why you gotta be so nice 'n...

[The sentence is lost in the soft buzz of a snore. The alcohol, the brawling and the general weariness have finally taken their toll, and Wade Wilson is out like a light.]

Edited 2013-07-11 07:57 (UTC)

[And finally Travis exhales heavily, allowing himself to slouch again now that he's without a second body to support. What a night. He's still exhausted and still terribly sore, yet... it's satisfying, to have had such a great time, to know Wade's safe and probably happier than he's ever seen him, and to-- well, to be with him.

Wait. ...Shit.

There's that damn thought again. So that's how this is going to go down, huh? He shakes his head, as if to shake any of these dumb sappy ideas from his mind. (Doesn't work in the least, but it was worth a shot.) He really has gotta get it together.

In spite of himself, Travis turns his head to look at Wade, already sound asleep. It's funny, and almost cute-- he's pretty sure only five-year-olds fall asleep that quickly-- and his expression immediately softens. It's stupid, really, that he's having so much trouble acknowledging whatever feelings or not-feelings he holds in that cynical little heart of his. He should get over it.

Because, whichever way you look at it, he likes him. Maybe, as his inner tween girl keeps shouting, like that. And really, who gives a damn how that goes down? Why should he have to deal with it now?

All he really wants is to be with him, period.

Travis smiles a little, and tugs Wade's covers up a bit more securely.]

Man, I should be asking you the same question...

Edited 2013-07-11 08:43 (UTC)

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should've used this for the last tag but whatevs

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