David & Wade | Sunday Evening (backdated)

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

After receiving this text, David obliges Wade and hands the mercenary his ass during a sparring match.


Wade walked into the Brownstone's gym at precisely six and let his easy smile slide off his face. The punching bag at the mansion hadn't helped. Swimming until he couldn't breathe hadn't helped. Running until he had stitches in his sides hadn't helped. Sparring with Sarah hadn't helped and he'd been sure that would do some good. But he and Sarah were pretty evenly matched and Wade... didn't want a fair fight right now.

The only other occupant of the gym at that time glanced up from where he was taping up his knee with black tape, discreetly knocking a brown bottle of medication into his gym bag before returning to his task. Wade was in the mood for a fight. One look at the older man told him that. So David took his time in acknowledging him, slipping instead into a mental state necessary to deliver a fight good enough for the both of them. He counted the breaths it took for his powers to kick in, slow and deliberate. Only then did he look up to meet Wade's solemn gaze, a small, sardonic smile - almost mocking - curling a corner of his lips.

"North," Wade said, lifting his chin to acknowledge the other man before dropping his own bag at his feet and sitting. He made short work of wrapping his hands, attempting to get into the right headspace for what was coming. "You're looking a little ragged around the edges, Mav. The cuckoo clocks not treating you right?"

“You know how it is,” David shrugged, standing and rolling his shoulders to loosen up the muscles. “No rest for the devil’s spawn.”

"It's a wonder either of us get any rest, then," Wade muttered, flexing his hands as he stood and stretched. Banter was usually his thing, he excelled at it. But today, he wasn't feeling it. "Shall we?"

Both men got right into it, the younger man not entirely fond of talking too much anyway. He kicked it off with a quick tackle, aimed at taking Wade right off his feet as he drove his knuckles forward and toward the other mutant’s solar plexus.

Wade took the tackle but twisted as he moved to deflect North's hand. He let himself sink into the fight itself, the sheer, brutal efficiency of it. No matter where he aimed, no matter how many possibilities he tried to leave open for himself until the last possible moment, he couldn't get the upper hand. More of the younger man's strikes landed than not, but that was the whole point - Wade needed to be able to focus entirely on something other than the impotent rage reverberating inside his skull.

Partitioning and sectioning off his emotions was one of the skills the Maverick excelled at. They were cumbersome things that led one to lose their cool and focus. So while Wade wielded his inhuman agility and above average strength, David skilfully divided his vision and attention into the present and future, right down to the split seconds, and caught every slip up the other mutant made.

After all, here was a friend whom he had ignored for the better part of months in an effort to allow simmering anger to abate. And here he was, offering up his rage-fueled, careless self up on a silver platter. A better man would have resisted, but not North.

Every move he made North anticipated. Part of Wade found it frustrating, but the rest of him was enjoying the challenge - and the fact that there was basically no way he was going to win this fight. The punches and kicks he threw rarely connected and, when they did, there was obviously some ulterior motive involved - leading him into some other position that left him vulnerable. Ingrained instincts kicked in and Wade sped up, eyes on the center of North's chest when he could see it even though he knew there'd be no tells to read there. Everything about the younger man was perfectly executed and Wade could have been frustrated - instead, he found it a relief.

North wasn't going to coddle him. Thank fuck.

Because North was not one for coddling. Anything. Or anyone. It went against his genetic structure and ingrained sense of self.

The objective was not a quick take down, so the German man started to toy with his present for a bit. As Wade sped up, David increased the number of quick darting strikes that delivered sharp stinging pains without inflicting any real harm, dodging, twisting and rolling out of the other veteran’s over-powered hits that would potentially have cracked a number of his ribs. At one point in time, he managed to get a hold of a fistful of hair, tugging sharply before releasing and dancing back with a smirk. Careful, always careful, not to tire himself out before he could take his opponent out.

Wade paused and shook his head like a dog in an attempt to dispel the sting from having his hair pulled. Then he snorted a brief laugh because really - he was being taunted without words by a man he'd nearly thrown off the roof of the mansion. "Pulling pigtails, Mav?" The mercenary asked, circling the younger man more calmly now, shoulders relaxing a fraction. "I never knew you felt that way. My girlfriend might not mind."

With that, Wade moved to engage North again, attempting - and failing - to box him in.

“Hardly my fault,” the German shrugged unapologetically, grabbing Wade and throwing him over his shoulder, swiftly disengaging as the other man found his feet and darted forward again with a series of quick jabs. “Your poor dancing moves bring out the schoolyard bully in me.”

"I've been told I bring out the worst in people," Wade said, evading a kick with a twist that took him just out of North's reach for a moment. He returned quickly, though, moving through series after series of punches and kicks in an all-out assault against the younger man that he knew would probably be futile but was, at the end of the day, at least entertaining. His focus narrowed to one goal - an unlikely one, he recognized as he found himself on his back yet again, but one nonetheless - take North down.

On his part, North tried his damnedest to deprive Wade of a proper grip on his person, choosing instead to make quick but fast jabs before returning to relative safety. He lacked the other mutant’s stamina and therefore could not draw out this fight – a swift and decisive end was preferred, especially if it resulted with Wade on his back and at his mercy. But given Wade’s powers, the Maverick would settle for knocking his companion out.

A KO was unlikely, if only because Wade's healing factor generally refused to actually let him slip into unconsciousness unless he'd suffered major trauma of some sort. However, it was entirely possible North would manage to knock him on his ass and keep him there for long enough for it to count as a win for the younger man. "You're like a fucking ferret," Wade muttered just before North blocked a series of jabs, landed several vicious hits to his sternum, and then one to his throat.

Wade went down and decided to stay down because he liked breathing. "Uncle," he said, raising a hand in surrender.

Nodding his acceptance, David offered Wade a hand and mopped up the perspiration on his face with his sleeve. He blinked rapidly a couple of times, waiting for the adrenaline rush to abate for his vision to settle. “Not in your best form today.”

Accepting the younger man's help, Wade rubbed briefly at his throat before wiping his forehead on his sleeve. "No," he said. "I'm not." He hadn't been for a while and that was only adding to his nerves and tension. "You're looking perky and spry, though."

“Thank you,” David replied shortly, grabbing a towel and throwing it over his head as he swiped a bottle of water from his bag and drank deeply from it.

"No problem," Wade answered, walking over to his own bag to get a towel and a bottle of water. Cracking the seal on the bottle, the mercenary let his brows rise and asked, "How's the whole pill thing going?”

A bland stare was leveled on the older man “How’s the whole Thor thing going?”

"I haven't figured out how to beat the shit out of him. Yet." Wade cracked his neck, muscles pulling taut along his shoulders. "So's that mean you haven't figured out how to kick your habit? Yet?"

“I have figured out how to kick you, and break your nose, probably. It looks like it is bleeding,” David tilted his head to the side, seemingly staring off into the distance before his eyes snapped back into focus to stare at Wade. “Unfortunately for you, Norse gods are a different story.”

Wade frowned as his fingers rose to his nose, swiping away a trace of blood. Great, just what he needed. "Fuck Norse gods and the bajillion legged horses they rode in on. Or motorcycles. Whatever. I keep trying to remind myself it's that weird enchantress chick's fault, but it's not really helping."

“I haven’t read the file, but it sounds like fun,” the other man commented, dropping his towel on the bench and moving to do some stretching. “Maybe if physical exertion does not work, you can order 24 gallons of whiskey, down it and see how it goes.”

"That's probably not the best idea," Wade said, snorting softly. He rubbed the blood from his fingers on his towel, then wiped the rest from his upper lip. North hadn't actually hit his nose - it was probably just his blood pressure. He should run through the kata to calm himself down or something.

“Drink more water,” David said, pushing his head down to meet his knees such that his voice came out muffled. “If you bleed out on the mats, Marie-Ange will be the one cleaning the mess up.”

"I'm drinking water," Wade said, finishing off his bottle and tossing it at North's head.

Blue eyes flickered up even before the bottle had left Wade’s hand, a hand extending upward to bat the empty plastic bottle back at Wade. David’s powers had been taking longer and longer to die down after bursts of adrenaline, but he said nothing as he stood and cracked his back.

Wade caught the bottle on its return, lips twisting a bit in a rueful smile. "Chinese?" He asked. "Or I could go for sushi."

“Sashimi. I am in the mood for expensive raw fish.” David tossed his belongings into his gym bag. “I will meet you out front in twenty minutes. Unless you need to borrow my shower?”

"Nah, I'll use Marie-Ange's," Wade said. He had a couple changes of clothes up there, so he wouldn't have to go to dinner in his sweat-stained workout shots and t-shirt. "I'll see you in twenty."