fic: shine a light ahead

[human_veil]

shine a light ahead (xmcu fusion, ~1k )
wade & charles | post-deadpool 2

It’s sort of their thing.

“What is it this time?”

The voice is unexpected, the words cutting through the sound of Céline Dion’s The Power of Love. Wade looks over his shoulder, little radio still held above his head even as he catches sight of Professor Xavier rolling towards him. Charles’ expression edges on amused, his brow raised as he brings himself closer to Wade.

“Baldy!” Wade calls, grinning beneath his mask at Charles’ visible sigh. “What’s got you out of bed?”

Charles sends him a pointed look, hand lifting to motion toward the radio that’s still turned on, the volume loud and grating and no doubt carrying up past Colossus’ room and through the mansion’s halls.

“What,” Wade says. As if he doesn’t understand how he could be causing a disturbance. “You don’t like Céline Dion?”

The look Charles sends him is one Wade knows well, the vaguely amused exasperation the same expression he gets every time they find themselves in a situation such as this. Which isn’t often, exactly, but often enough for it to be familiar.

“Not at eleven o’clock,” Charles says, almost yelling to be heard over the music. Wade turns to him properly, brings the radio to his side, finger hovering over the button meant to switch songs.

“Would you prefer some Whitney?” Wade asks, looking down at him. “Dubstep? Jazz? A little instrumental?” He brings the device closer to his face, squints. “You look like a progressive rock type of guy.”

“You’re disturbing the children,” Charles says in answer, ignoring Wade’s questions with practiced ease.

“I’m educating them.”

“Wade.”

There’s a huff, followed by an abrupt cut off to the music. Wade places the radio on the ground without care, turns to lean against the mansion’s wall and look at Charles. “Happy now?”

“Immensely.”

“You’re no fun.”

Charles just smiles patiently, as if he were dealing with a particularly unruly child. “What did you do this time?” he asks, nodding toward the radio.

Wade waves a gloved hand, tilting his head back to look up toward Colossus’ room. “Oh, nothing,” he says. “I just like annoying him. Gets those chrome panties in a twist.” He looks back toward Charles, crosses his arms against his chest. “Now. Are you going to hit me with a morality talk or a recruitment talk? It’s another recruitment talk, isn’t it?” Wade says, rambling as if Charles isn’t there at all. “Or maybe something else? Something on the down low? Need me to do your dirty work? A little pay for play?”

“We don’t have to do this every time,” Charles says, hands smoothing over the blanket draped across his lap. “I only wanted the music to stop. The children have classes tomorrow.”

“But it’s our thing,” Wade protests. “You and the hunk of metal, both. You try to get me to join your little boyband group and I tell you to go fuck yourselves. We have to.”

Charles’ mouth twitches as if he might just smile, but the look is gone as quick as it comes. “If I didn’t know better,” he says, “I’d think you secretly want to take up the offer.”

“I like feeling wanted.”

“You like helping people,” Charles corrects, ignoring Wade’s reaction. The offended look visible even with the mask covering his face. “Deny it all you want, Wade, it’s obvious. You like doing good things, and you can. You’ve already proved that.”

“See? Recruitment talk,” Wade says. “You should spice these up a bit. Add a bribe or two.”

“I have no desire to bribe you into being a better person,” Charles tells him. “That’s not what we do here.”

“What is it that you do here?” Wade asks. “I mean, aside from all the child grooming.”

Charles sends him an unimpressed look. “We fight for peace and equality, as you’re well aware.”

“Peace?” Wade’s voice is laced with mirth. “Aren’t you dating a terrorist?”

“Erik’s not—” Charles starts, stops midway through the sentence. As if realising he’s protesting the wrong part of Wade’s statement. “Erik and I are not dating,” he says.

“Sorry,” Wade apologises. “Long term booty call.”

Charles’ eyes shut briefly, a long sigh passing through his lips. “I think we’re done here,” he murmurs, hands reaching to curl around the wheels of his chair. Behind him, Wade drops his arms back to his sides with a huff, steps forward to take hold of the wheelchair’s handles. He reaches down, picks the little radio up before handing it to Charles to hold, and starts off in direction of the mansion.

“Don’t stress,” Wade says, voice almost mockingly sweet. “Mags has got a nice pair of arms on him. And that ass—” He cuts off, makes a low whistling sound. “I’d go there, too.”

Charles exhales, long and loud. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,” he says, and Wade laughs. The cackle carrying across the courtyard as they near the Manson’s entrance. “Will you be staying?” Charles asks, switching subjects. “Yukio will be pleased to see you.”

“Can’t, not tonight,” Wade says. “Got a hot date with a unicorn.”

Charles arches a brow, his expression the nonverbal form of I don’t even want to know. “Well,” he says. “When you are ready, we’ll be here.”

Charles’ voice is honest, the words sincere. Wade doesn’t respond, just leans forward to grab the radio before taking a step back.

“When you want a threesome,” he calls, already walking off, his free hand lifted in a wave, “let me know!”

He doesn’t need to turn around to know Charles is shaking his head.