Sweet Love
To say Piotr woke up annoyed was an understatement. Training has been completely in the afternoon lately, about every other day, and after the big Russell/Cable debacle the crime was at local police level management, so although he still woke up at 6:30 every morning, there wasn't any rush. But to have a foot in his face that smelt as bad as a dumpster, a stream of sunlight that seemed to just be shining in his eyes only, a knocking at the door that sounded like pounding to his half-asleep ears, and an alarm that was seemingly louder than usual to wake up to immediately put him in a not-so-great mood.
He moved Wades foot off his face first, then continued to reach over to turn off his alarm. Pushing all 500 lbs of himself off the bed he made his way to the door. After opening it he was met with an erratic but relieved Ellie.
"Finally, I thought you, like, rusted over or something. I wanted to ask if you could make that Russian breakfast thing? The one you used to make…a few years...ago..." Her eyes trailed to the Wade sized lump on his bed. "Did you have someone stay the night or...?"
"Is Wade. Came to Mansion 2 am in pouring rain. Asked to stay night. Give me time to brush teeth and change, will be down in few minutes to make breakfast." Piotr was giving her a look that said 'there’s nothing going on' so she gave a quick nod before heading back downstairs. He gently shut the door and turned to do his tasks.
Making his way to his small bathroom he began 'demetalling', the act of brushing teeth really having no effect if your mouth is 100% titanium. Remetalling, he came back into the main room to pick out an outfit for the day. Joggers and an old graphic tee. Casual, but not lazy. He gave one final look back to Wade, who was still snoring into a memory foam pillow at the foot of his bed, and started down the stairs.
-
To say Wade woke up refreshed was an understatement. Sure, he only got his regualar 2 uneasy hours of sleep, but holy fuck this bed! His bed back home was comfortable, don’t get him wrong, but Piotrs bed was like Heaven in a 5’ by 9’ rectangle. He had around 30 pillows, each squishier than the last, 2 weighted blankets that felt like a hug from a giant puppy, and a comforter that was so soft Wade swore it was made from the wool of a year old lamb. Not to mention it smelt amazing. Sweet and flowery with just a hint of metal. Like a rose bed planted on top of a multi million dollars worth silver deposit.
“Watch out, little ol’ Ms. Jones, your petunias are going to be ripped apart in the name of capitalism!” Wade hoisted himself off the bed, stopping a minute before stumbling to the floor and towards the closet. “Actually, you wouldn’t be able to smell silver deposit, since the metallic-y scent comes from your finger oils coming in cont- you know what? Forget it.” Hands on his hips, he surveyed his options.
His current outfit, something he had been wearing for a week, started smelling so bad even he couldn’t handle it anymore. And if he was going to stay here any longer he decided it’d be best to change out of it. Don't want to run into any X-people with sensitive noses or quick trigger tempers, now. Deciding on a worn grandpa sweater, a pair of sweats that had to have the drawstrings tied so tight they could hold Juggernaut (for at least a nanosecond), and some boxers he had dug up from the very bottom of the GBF’s delicates drawer that hadn’t gotten around to being donated to impoverished children with huge butts yet. After a shower and a few safety pins Wade was ready to face the day.
Opening the oak doors he was greeted with even more amazing smells. Although it was well past 9, someone was still making breakfast. He floated downstairs towards the kitchen, metaphorically or literally depending on how the reader feels about fucking the laws of physics and gravity in Deadpool media. Rounding the corner, he found a very domestic sight to match the smells. Piotr in a, believe it or not, baby blue, frill edged, polka dot apron tending to some Gordon Ramsay bullshit in a pan, while a tired Yukio, a rarely happy Ellie, and a surprisingly present Kitty Pryde sat at the island, tucking into their respective plates. Yukio was the first to notice him and reacted appropriately.
“Hi, Wade!” Her cheery voice rang out, her sleepiness subsiding for a moment. Wade gave her a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave.
“Hi, Yukio!” Ellie looked up next, her happiness subsiding as well. She gave him a quick glance over, both articles of clothing having been something Piotr wore just last week. Yukio noticed, too, remembering complementing that exact sweater.
“Nice outfit,” Yukio added on, letting out a giggle. Kitty looked up, and then immediately got up. Gently placing her plate in the sink she left with a “aaand I'm out.”
Piotr looked to him last, his eyebrows meeting his hairline as he noticed Wades...familiar attire. “Exactly why are you wearing my clothes.”
“I only brought the one outfit and didn't want to smell completely like a rotting dumpster today. You don't mind, do you?”
Piotr let out a sigh and turned back to the stove. “No, it's fine. We will go to your apartment later in day, to pick up clothing.”
“Wait, how long is this hoser staying?” Ellie interjected. She's gotten used to Wade, sure, and to say they weren't friends was a big, fat lie, but there was only so much of him she could take.
“Oh, about 20, 30 years. No longer than 40, though. By age 60 I want to be retired to the Filipino countryside with my young, male lover and his adventurous and artistic girlfriend who I don't exactly like but put up with. But as my male lover turns more violent and quick to anger we form a bond, formulating a plan to get rid of him. But then the day he finally dares to lay a hand on her we throw out the plan and escape to Romania, living out our lives there.”
Ellie gives him her signature bitch face, uninterested in the little story.
“Two weeks tops.”
“I can handle that. C’mon Yuki, let's get going, we've got training.” Ellie gets off her stool and offers a hand to Yukio as she gets hers, and they walk out the back door together.
“Bye Wade!” Yukio calls out, waving with the hand that isn't being held.
“Bye, Yukio!” Wade called back, settling himself on one of the barstools. He watched as Colossus began cleaning the kitchen up, placing pots and pans under running water and organizing plates and utensils in the dishwasher. It was amusing, watching such a big man carefully move around the space with porcelain plates and glass cups. After a few minutes he turned towards Wade, presumably to wash the countertop from the wet soapy rag in his hand, and was startled to see that the other man didn’t have food set out in front of him.
“You’re not going to eat?” Colossus asked, cautious eyes trained on him as he began to wipe down the crumb covered marble.
“Nah, not hungry,” Wade replied bluntly, watching him slide the rag across the surface. Wade hadn’t wiped anything down in a while and forgot how satisfying it was. Colossus didn’t say anything else, only making a small sound and returning to his house work. Content on watching the big metal man act the role of house husband, Wade got himself comfortable on the small stool, only getting up once to get a juice box. Wade didn’t think it’d be this entertaining to watch a person clean a seemingly already spotless area, but Colossus’ little concertation faces and huffs of satisfaction made it worth the while.
Every so often other X-Men would walk through while he cleaned, the younger ones looking at Wade with wary eyes, but the more grizzled members didn’t even bother giving him an initial glance. As mentioned before, Deadpool was a recurring character in the X- Mansion Soap Opera, so even though he wasn’t usually found in one of the main rooms, they weren’t as put off with seeing his ugly mug sat at their one of many breakfast bars.
By 11am Colossus moved on to doing laundry, making no comment at Wade who was quickly at his heels as he made his way to the laundry room. This was also very fascinating to watch as Piotr was the kind of person who folded clothes right out of the dryer. Not to mention he wiped out most of the items in the washer is one arm full aside from a few socks that escaped his grasp. Finally it was a few minutes to lunch and they made their way back into the kitchen.
Yukio and Ellie were back from practice, sitting in their respective stools, along with Russell sat to the left of them. The girls didn’t give him much of a hello apart from Yukio’s bright smile and small wave, but Russell was on his feet the moment he saw Wade.
“Wade! I didn’t know you were here! How’s it going? Do you need any help with any piece of shit scum on the streets?” Russell chirped excitedly, looking at Wade with hopeful eyes. Wade gave a small huff and a proud smile while Colossus called out a “language!” from his new spot at the fridge.
“Nah, nah, just dropping by for a small vacation,” Wade said, ruffling the boys messing hair before leaning down and stage whispering, “but I’ll let you know if anything comes through the grapevine and we can go slice some assholes wide open.” Satisfied with this answer. Russell went back to his stool and began making small talk with his fellow trainees.
Colossus had whipped up lunch in no time and the three teens piled high their respective plates. A few other young mutants came to collect their own food but didn’t stay, crawling back into whatever nook and cranny of the mansion they shimmied out of. Wade himself took nothing aside from another juice box. Berry medley this time, which is superior to apple. Once again he sat and watched Colossus work, making sure there was enough food for all those who were currently at the mansion and that all the dishes he was done with got put in soapy water as soon as possible so they wouldn’t crust over. Colossus didn’t seem to mind Wade's hawk eyes on him (haha get it like the aveng- nevermind). He knew the other man was watching, having glanced up a few times to make quick eye contact.
After everyone had finished up and placed their dishes in the sink before scurrying off Colossus finally turned to Wade head on.
"You didn't eat," he said simply. There was a moment of silence where he waited for Wade to explain but he never did. All he did was look at Colossus with wide eyes, eyebrows high as if to ask 'and?'. It was clear he wasn't going to explain himself, at least without a little prying. "You didn't eat breakfast."
"Wasn't hungry." Wade repeated from this morning.
"And you didn't eat lunch."
"Wasn't hungry."
Colossus straightened up, rising to his full height, and crossed his arms over his chest. If sniffing out bullshit was an Olympic sport, Piotr would have at least a bronze medal. And if avoiding conversation about bullshit was an Olympic sport Wade would be solidly in the silver placement.
"Why are you lying, Wade." It was more of a demand than a question, but there was no harshness in his tone.
"Why do you care?" Wade snapped, cocking an eyebrow and puffing his chest out (which was barely noticeable while he was drowning in Piotrs grandpappy sweater). He knew it was a stupid question. He knew exactly why the bootleg Iron Giant cared. But Wade was nothing if not stubborn so he unconsciously buried his foot in the theoretical dirt and refused to move.
Colossus let out a huff, letting his arms drop. "You came here to be helped, to take up offer of care. What kind of friend would I be letting you neglect important meals?" Letting out a huff of his own Wade metaphorically unburied his foot in the theoretical dirt.
"I'm not… good… at eating," he managed to get out, looking away from Colossus as he picked at the hem of the sweater, wishing his friend didn't take such immaculate care of his clothes, wishing he had stray threads to focus on.
"Like, I can do it, obviously, I'm just not good at making myself do it. It's like," he took a deep breath as Colossus sat down next to him, face soft and understanding, "not to throw the pity party of the year but I'm use to living off a meal a month, either by choice or by, well… not… choice," Wade trailed off, visibly uncomfortable. Colossus looked at him for a pregnant minute before finally responding.
"I have idea," he said finally, before hastily adding, "feel free to decline…"