[Par for the course with Wade. Random shit happening with absolutely no solid plan guiding him there. At least this one doesn't seem to be ending with him getting blown up or ripped in half. Although the night is still young.

He suspects maybe that Nate's never done this before, but they'll get there. It's unfortunate that he didn't have any lube, but they'll make do. Or they wouldn't and this would be going very, very wrong.]

Mmm, I like-- [He reaches up to tug off Nate's shirt so that he's no longer Donald Ducking it and is as naked as he is.] I like this view. Holy fuck, you are a smoke show, has anyone ever told you that?

[Wade just stares at Nate, his soft skin, hard cock, hair doing whatever it liked in his face. It's a stark comparison to the mottled, bumpy skin now pressed against him. There's not an inch of Wade that isn't scarred, even his cock. There's a beginning flash of self-hatred there that doesn't last long before his eyes glaze over when Nate presses that feeling into his brain. It's almost like he's got vertigo from the overload of feeling-- head falling back against the cushion as he attempts to steady himself, hands starting to roam Nate's chest and nails over abs, then he grabs both of their cocks together with one hand, taking a moment to spit into the other hand not currently clutching them before taking hold of them with both to stroke them.] I like this. Feeling you against me. Whatever you're doing.

[Because he knows he's doing something.]

What about you... do you know what you like? How's this?