Archive of Our Own

Hot water washes over Wade, washes away the blood--bless the red suit--but it doesn’t wash away the irritation. Something that might be worry that he pushes down under layers of indignation. It had all seemed like a good idea at the time, but the little voice that might be a conscience reminds him that Colossus was really pissed and is probably going to stay pissed. Had he fucked it up bad enough that Colossus is finally going to give up on him? The idea makes Wade feel slightly nauseous.

He tells himself Colossus wouldn't do that. He seems to keep trying with Wade, even when Wade fucks up. But seriously, the guy is such a goody two shoes. He’d solved the problem, hadn’t he? Just because the evil bad man blew up…

At least the mansion’s water pressure is great and the hot water seemingly infinite.

Wade starts scrubbing himself with the mansion’s soap. Then he draws pictures on the shower wall with the soap suds. Sings a couple songs because he can. Finally he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower. It’s kind of a crime how soft the towel is and how nice it feels on his skin. When he’s done with it, he just drops it on the floor, because that’s just the kind of asshole he is.

Since the X-Men are still allowing him provisional trainee status, he has a small room at the mansion. He doesn’t always use it. Sometimes he crashes on Al’s couch or her floor. Sometimes he sleeps at Sister Margaret’s, even though Weasel yells at him and sics Buck on him with all sorts of unwanted advice on accepting loss, inner peace, and accepting help from friends, and tells Dopinder to drive him somewhere else. But he uses this room enough that he’s got some clothes here and a couple spare suits. And weapons. After all, of all the places he could stash stuff, inside a mansion protected by high-powered mutants is probably pretty secure, unless it’s one of those years where it gets blown up. But that’s no worse than his old apartment.

Point being, he has some of his clothes and stuff here. Which is why he’s wearing his fuzzy onesie unicorn pajamas and carrying Mr. Fluffy with him when he exits the bathroom.

Post-mission and post-shower, what he needs is something to eat, so he heads for the kitchen.

When he wanders in, he finds Yukio and her Negasonic Teenage Girlfriend had the same idea, because there they are. Yukio is at the table near the kitchen entrance, putting hot chocolate mix and hot water in two mugs. Ellie is at the pretentious, wood-paneled fridge on the opposite side of the room, rooting through it like any teenager on a search for something worth eating.

“Hi, Yukio,” Wade coos.

“Hi, Wade,” Yukio chirps as she turns. Then she adds in surprise, “Oh! Kigurumi? How cute!”

“You like?” He spins to show it off. “It’s so soft. Like being fondled head to toe by an army of fuzzy rainbow bunnies.”

Yukio giggles. “Why a unicorn?”

“Why ask why?” Wade pats the hood of the pajamas, which is complete with horn, ears, and an attempt at something that looks like a nose. Some suspension of disbelief is necessary to pretend that’s a unicorn’s face and not some sort of creepy short-nosed camel. “And this way I match Mr. Fluffy.” He takes one of the stuffed unicorn’s hooves and makes it wave at Yukio.

“That’s just weird,” Ellie declares from the other side of the kitchen, closing the fridge, a couple of apples in her hands. She crosses her arms and looks unamused, as always.

“Aw,” Yukio pouts. “You wouldn’t like if I got one?”

“You would be adorable,” Ellie says firmly. “He’s a creepy old man in blue crocs with a unicorn fetish.”

“Hey, you leave the crocs out of this!”

Ellie just glares disdainfully at him.

“And she’s right, you’d look adorable,” he adds to Yukio. “They make a pink one, it would totally match. And check this out.” Wade turns his back on Ellie and reaches behind himself to demonstrate. “If you have to go to the bathroom, you don’t even have to take it off, there’s a zipper--”

“Ugh!” Ellie yells, throwing one of the apples straight at his head, which Wade catches effortlessly. “I did not need to see that!”

“Suit yourself,” he sing songs, zipping back up, and turning and sauntering off, taking a big bite of her apple at the same time. “Bye, Yukio!”

“Bye, Wade!”

He doesn’t make it very far down the hall, Negasonic Teenage Sour Loser’s voice still audible and complaining loudly about food thieves and old man butts, when there’s a loud, deep voice behind him.

“Wade!”

“Oh fucksicles,” Wade mutters. Then turns, smile on his face. “Colossus! Buddy! What’s up?”

“My patience with you, that is what is up,” the gleaming mutant growls, stalking toward him angrily enough that the expensive nicknacks along the hall rattle on their shelves. “I wish to speak with you. Elsewhere. Alone.”

“If this is about the grenade--”

“Elsewhere. Alone.”

“Well, I was just heading back to my room. You’re welcome to tag along,” Wade says flippantly, turning and heading on his way.

He doesn’t actually expect Colossus to go along with that, but the heavy footsteps behind him indicate otherwise. Whatever. Colossus can say what he wants to say, maybe Wade can cop a feel, blah blah blah don’t kill people, yes sir of course sir sorry sir old habits die hard sir, everything is fine, Wade gets to take a nap with Mr. Fluffy.

So he opens the door to his small room and mockingly waves Colossus in, then follows. There’s not a lot of space in here at the best of times. And there’s almost no space left with his big metal companion already in it. Not that there are a lot of possessions to take up the room. Really there’s nothing more than a closet full of more weapons than clothes, a dresser with mirror, a bed, and a nightstand in the space, all tastefully and obnoxiously antique. And while there’s a little room to move between them, it’s currently mostly taken up by a very angry, Russian mutant.

“The rule. The number one rule. What is it, Wade?” Colossus’s fists are clenched by his sides and he looks ready to strangle someone. Unfortunately, Wade isn’t exactly one to be cautious.

“Label everythi--”

“Not that one!” Colossus roars, taking a menacing step forward before very visibly reasserting control over himself. “You know this. Stop trying to be funny.”

“‘Funny’ is kind of who I am. Personally, I thought I was pretty ‘funny’ earlier. Did you see that guy’s face when I yelled, ‘Fire in the hole!’ and shoved the grenade down the back of his pants? Ha! Get it? Fire in his hole?”

“I fail to see humor in it, since I just finished showering blood out of my hair. Wade. This has to stop. You know rule, and rule is no killing. I do not understand how you can be so careless, so reckless toward life around you.”

“Well, you see my metal boy scout, there is good life,” Wade gestures to one side with his unicorn, “and bad life,” he gestures to the other side, “and the scrumbag earlier with the ‘bwahaha I will enslave the human scum of this town and turn them into bananas’ was one of the bad variety. I tend to shoot, stab, dismember, or blow up those.”

“Is still not right,” Colossus growls, teeth bared. “Is not right you act like child, so careless about human life. Even those ‘bad’ lives have parents. Those that care about them. Perhaps children. Is not for you to decide.” Colossus’s accent is thickening in his distress.

Wade steps forward to jab an angry finger at Colossus’s chest, even if it does nothing of any consequence except make his finger hurt, glaring upwards.

“As far as I’m concerned, it is my decision. Sometimes I’m the only one who can do something about a problem, and doing something, stopping someone, can save a whole lot of other lives! They didn’t want to die? Didn’t want to make other people sad? Then they shouldn’t have started shit in the first place!”

“Wade…” Colossus growls warningly.

“And I solved the problem.” Wade steps back, gesturing emphatically. “People free again. We could all go home. So my methods aren’t what you like? Tough! What are you going to do about it, Metal Daddy? Throw me out? Spank me?"

There’s a flicker of several emotions--anger, frustration, indignation--across Colossus’s face before a strange calm settles there.

“Kak skaszhesh.¹ You are petulant child and deserve to be treated like one.”

Wade is so utterly confused when Colossus grabs him under both arms and lifts him with ease that he doesn’t struggle, not even as he turns and sits heavily on Wade’s bed, the frame creaking in protest. But when Colossus flips him over and across his knees, grabs the zipper of the kigurumi pajamas and yanks it open, Wade suddenly realizes what’s going on.

“Hey, wait--” he starts to protest, flailing backward with one arm while bracing the other on the bed to try to twist.

In one smooth motion, Colossus catches the arm in an unyielding hand and twists it up behind Wade’s back. He flips the pajama unicorn tail up out of the way, and then brings his other open palm down on Wade’s exposed ass with a loud smack.

Wade yelps and scrambles with his legs and one arm, but Colossus’s grip is firm, pressing down against his back to hold him in place and immobilizing him with his ass in the air in Colossus’s lap.

Five more blows land in quick succession. It’s too much to comprehend, too much sensation, as Wade yells and twists. There's no more or less power behind the strikes to his cheeks than any human would deliver, but the hardness of the hand delivering them makes them more painful and unforgiving.

“I will not throw you out. I am done trying to ignore problem that you are. But spank? Yes. Unless you want others to hear, I suggest you find way to be quiet.”

Wade twists his head back. Colossus doesn't look angry. Frustrated and focused and intent, yes. But not angry.

Then the blows start landing and don’t stop.

Wade cries out, the sting and slap a rhythmic thing as he struggles. He suddenly realizes he’s still holding Mr. Fluffy and buries his face against the fake fur side, yells helplessly and muffled in a way that ends dangerously close to a sob. It hurts, in a way that builds and throbs the more Colossus’s hand punishes him.

But it's not hurting as much as it could if Colossus used his full strength. Wade realizes he’s being careful, making sure he doesn’t hit too hard, doesn’t hurt too much. Which isn’t much comfort, given the pain and heat radiating from his cheeks.

“Do you understand yet? Wade, this is how child that misbehaves is treated. If you wish to be child, this is how I will punish you. Like father would punish his child.”

The feeling and Colossus’s words are the sum total of his existence right now. The firm hand that lingers for just a fraction of an instant after each spank. The other hand that is holding him down, pinned and helpless.

Wade grits his teeth, tries to stop the broken, noisy gasping of his breath, the sounds that are quickly degenerating into helpless, muffled whimpers at every blow.

“You have broken promise. Promise to me, to the X-Men, to try to be one of us and follow our rules. Promise to be better.”

Wade squeezes his eyes closed, tight as he can. Helpless as a child. He has memories enough like this that it blurs together. Someone so much larger than him, holding him down, landing blows.

In his memory, that someone is raging, out of control. Not a father. Never a father. That man, that’s all he was by the time he left, just a man with a temper. He never believed anything good could come out of Wade.

But above him...

“I believe in you, Wade. Do you hear me? Not all other X-Men do. But I know you can be better.”

Wade cries out helplessly. The punishment should be nothing to someone who’s routinely shot and mutilated, but the mix of Colossus’s stern voice and the rhythmic jolt and shock of pain are breaking down barriers, letting too many things get too close together until they’re running together. Associations beyond his control.

What was. What might have been. Caring authority, gentle or firm. Pain. Pleasure.

He’s hard, cock trapped inside fleece and rubbing on Colossus’s lap with ever slap to his ass.

“Being better includes keeping promises. It does not matter that you think differently--you agreed to play by our rules! You have broken our rules, your promise! Repeatedly! Do you understand, Wade?!”

Wade moans into the stuffy, nodding frantically.

Colossus pauses. He sounds hopeful, possibly pleased, when he asks, “So, you have learned your lesson? Are you child? Or man?”

“Child, definitely child!” Wade chokes out.

He feels Colossus still for several seconds. Horrible seconds where Wade expects he’s going to be dumped on his (temporarily very sore) ass on the floor. Hard and rejected as the freak he is.

Then Colossus’s hand is across the top of the curve of his ass, pushing him down so he can’t help but hiss as his erection is pressed against metal-hard thighs.

“You are enjoying this!” Colossus exclaims in disbelief.

“Not ‘enjoying,’ exactly. But,” he squirms a little, sniffles, “oh god, so turned on. Sorry. I know that’s fucked up. My dad, he used to … do stuff like this, but I hated it, of course, it never turned me on. In fact, he was a really horrible father and I don’t want to think about him right now, thanks.”

“Then what is … turning you on … about this?” Colossus says the phrase like it verges on being too vulgar for his comfort. But the pressure of his hand is increasing if anything.

“Attractive giant metal man spanking me like Daddy and sternly telling me I can do better?! Have you seriously never watched any porn?!”

“Pornography is for the unimaginative,” Colossus growls thickly. Then wonder of wonders his hand slides lower to grip Wade’s ass. “Your healing factor, Wade. Is too effective.”

It’s true. The pain is already fading to almost nothing, the hot flush gone. What should be an ache that persists, reminds him of transgressions with every movement, is instead disappearing.

Colossus’s hand pulls off momentarily and lands four very calculated smacks: two on each cheek. Then it is back, caressing instead of punishing, kneading the sting and making Wade buck helplessly.

“Better. But will fade quickly. Tell me, do you agree yet? That you will follow the rule?”

“Your rule is bullshit!”

“Language,” Colossus growls.

“Motherfucker!”

Colossus sighs, a deeply frustrated sound, like all the breath in the world isn’t enough to express how challenging he finds Wade.

“Punishment does not work on you. You absorb it too easily. You learn nothing from it, except how to enjoy it.” With the last words, he presses and rocks Wade’s ass, earned a groan and a face briefly buried in Mr. Fluffy’s side. Then Wade’s head jerks back up, eyes widening. Because thighs aren’t the only hard thing he just rubbed against.

“You--! You sick bastard! You’re getting off on this too!”

Colossus ignores him.

“Perhaps stick is not what you need, but rather …. carrot.”

“You’re going to spank me with a carrot?”

“Motivation, Wade. If I let go of your arm, will you be good little boy, do what Papochka² tells you?”

Wade makes a strangled whimpering noise while nodding frantically.

“Good boy.”

And just like that, the pressure between his shoulder blades is gone, his hand is free. Wade shakes it out gingerly as Colossus leans past him, pulls open the drawer of the nightstand and retrieves a bottle.

“Why am I not surprised you have lubricant in your room? You are naughty little boy.”

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me again?”

“Mouthy little boy too. Tishe³. Hush. Enjoy motivation.”

As he says it, Colossus spreads Wade’s cheeks, gently rubs at the pucker of skin with his thumb.

Wade nearly full body convulses, because somehow this is real. No matter how many times he’s tried to grope or proposition Colossus and how many times it hasn’t worked, here they are and he’s actually and finally being touched. He wraps both arms around Mr. Fluffy, latches teeth into a knuckle to keep from making embarrassingly loud sounds.

There’s the sound of a lid being unscrewed and then slick is dribbled directly down the crack of his ass, and warm, hard fingers are rubbing it lower. A single finger gently teases at his hole, pressing and rubbing in gentle circles.

“Moy malchick⁴, do you want Papochka to play with you?”

Wade pants, “Yes, Daddy.” And fuck, he can’t believe the big boy scout has a kinky streak like this.

“Good boy,” Colossus says, deep and pleased sounding, before carefully sliding in.

Wade whimpers at the words and because that’s big for a finger and smooth and hard in a way that only metal would be, oh fuck, metal because that’s Colossus gently fingering him. Warm like the rest of Colossus always is when Wade manages to get in a hug or a crisp butt-slap. The intrusion moves gently, slowly, rocking into him while another hand strokes the small of his back.

“It is okay, we will play. I will make my little boy feel good, as long as he remembers how to behave. I have been so disappointed in how you have been acting recently, so frustrated. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy!”

Colossus makes a deep sound of approval, gently pulling back and then Wade feels a second finger enter him alongside the first. Again, it’s so slow, so gentle. Wade tries to hump metal thighs in frustration, but Colossus presses down on the small of his back, holding him still while continuing to stretch him with his fingers.

“Now, tell me rule you broke.”

Unfortunately Wade is incapable of being anything except a smartass.

“Never feed the X-children after midnight?”

And just like that the fingers pull out and the hand on his back disappears.

“Papochka is not interested in your jokes, Wade,” he says, sounding weary and disinterested. “Apparently you are not interested in playing after all. Perhaps another time.” And then the metal bastard actually shifts his weight like he’s about to stand up.

“No, wait! Daddy, I’m sorry I was joking! No killing! The rule is no killing! Anyone! Ever!”

Colossus pauses, then slowly settles back on to the bed. The hand returns to the small of Wade’s back, stroking and rubbing gently through the fleece fabric. Wade wiggles, raises his ass further in the air, but Colossus ignores it.

“Did you break my rule?”

Wade is trapped, and he knows it. He wants those fingers back, no matter what he has to say.

“Yes,” he finally manages, “I did.”

“So let me hear my little boy apologize, say mne zhal, Papochka⁵.”

“Mne zhal, Papochka, for breaking your rule.”

“Very good,” Colossus rumbles approvingly and slides back in.

Those big fingers, skin-warm and metal-smooth, are moving gently and purposefully inside him, a thumb rubbing circles on his perineum. It seems Colossus is intent on taking his time, not moving to add another finger or do anything except massage Wade loose and ready. When fingers find his prostate, Wade gasps and clenches, forgets and curses.

“Shitballs! There!”

The fingers still. “Excuse me?”

“Uh….yes, Daddy, right there! Please!”

“Better.”

Wade moans pornographically as he feels that spot being gently rubbed, feels his muscles twitch and a growing wetness at the tip of his cock. The hand on the small of his back slides beneath him and Colossus palms him through the pajamas, traps him between rock-hard hands on both sides.

“Ah, little boy is enjoying playing with Papochka. But you are making your nice pajamas wet.” He tsks disapproval.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I can’t help it,” Wade gasps, excited and humiliated by the words simultaneously. “You feel so good.”

Colossus leans closer to Wade, voice incredibly dropping another octave when he purrs, “Will feel even better, trust me,” and slips in a third finger, stretches him far wider than the average cock or dildo would ever accomplish.

Wade can’t stop himself and comes within moments, bucking against the hand pressed to his groin, clenching around the fullness inside him, yelling into Mr. Fluffy’s side. He hears Colossus chuckle fondly. The fingers inside him pause their careful, smooth slide.

“Is my little boy done already?”

“No,” he gasps. “Healing factor. I can go as long as you want, Daddy.”

“What a good boy,” is purred and then those fingers are moving again. The other hand is moving as well, sliding up his torso to undo one button after another. “Let us see you, little boy, and take off your dirty things too.” Wade does his best to help around getting slowly finger fucked senseless, but it’s mostly Colossus’s doing that gets his arms out of the sleeves, pushes the outfit down to his hips. The fingers are pulled out with a obscene wet noise and Wade whimpers.

“Lift your hips,” he’s instructed, and then the fleece is slid down and is gone and off and he shivers at the sudden cool of the air. A hand settles softly on his calf, slides sensuously all the way up his leg. He gasps when a thumb catches on his rim, pulls him wide; startles when cold lube is poured directly on his hole.

“You need to be very wet, very ready for me. Cannot prepare too much.”

Wade has to agree with that. The hardness he’s been lying on for awhile certainly feels … sizeable. He can’t help gasping out a joke.

“Mr. Boy Scout is following the boy scout motto: be prepared.”

“Another joke? You should be careful.” But he doesn’t seem upset by this joke, as the fingers slide back inside Wade, concentrating this time on how deeply they can press. Wade is gasping at the fullness. “Sometimes I will need my little boy to be serious. To do his job, no funny business. Can you do that? Is this reward,” with a particularly firm thrust of his hand that has Wade clawing the sheets and stuffy, “enough to make you remember?”

Answers don’t come quickly right now. It takes Wade several seconds to put enough thoughts together to make a sentence.

“I love Daddy’s reward! I can be serious! Really!”

The fingers still, much to Wade’s displeasure. Then another hand is cupping the side of his face, pulling and turning his head so he’s blinking at Colossus, trying to focus.

“I am not joking, Wade. No killing. No killing at all.”

Wade whimpers, not mentally ready for a serious conversation while lust-hazed and fucked. “It’s hard,” he groans. And, heh. Double entendre. “It’s so easy to kill. Fixes the problem. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because,” Colossus enunciates slowly and clearly, gaze steady, “good boys get Daddy’s cock. Bad boys don’t. Which are you?”

“Good boy, I’m a good boy, I'll be good! I'll remember somehow! I'll tattoo it...no, that never works. I'll, uh, I'll write it on the suit! ‘No killing,’ right there. Just please, please, Daddy, pozhaluysta, Papochka⁶, fuck me with your giant, metal cock!”

Finally he gets to see Colossus's control slip ever so slightly, as his lips curl in a growl, one hand clenching on Wade's ass and the other thrusting hard and deep.

“Moy sladkiy, besstyszhiy malchick. Takoy poslushnyi, takoy krasyvyi, kogda ya zanimayus' s toboy lyubovyu...⁷”

Wade can’t help but bury his face in his arms and the stuffed animal that, for fuck’s sake, why is he still holding onto it? Like some sort of lifeline, because it’s there, because it gives him something to muffle his voice and hide how open and vulnerable he’s sure his face is.

“On the bed,” is ordered, and Colossus is pulling his hand free, lifting Wade to place him unceremoniously but still carefully in the center of the bed. Wade rolls on his back, breathing heavily and watching as Colossus starts stripping.

First the shirt is pulled slowly over his head and, oh my, apparently he knows how to strip tease, because he makes sure to go slow and flex as he does it. Wade’s mouth is going dry with nerves and anticipation. The shirt is tossed to one side, and he kneels to quickly undo his boots and toe them off. Then stands and slowly works on his pants, opening the fly and then working the pants and underwear down his hips together while Wade is unabashedly staring at everything that’s being revealed.

Metal rod and tackle, balls heavy and interestingly textured and gleaming, cock as smooth and silver as the fingers that had been in him, and jutting upwards. Rock hard. Twitching eagerly. Eager for him, and Wade’s ass feels empty and slick and he swallows nervously and eagerly all at the same time, because Colossus is just as big as he had ever hoped and he wants that inside of him about ten minutes ago.

Colossus climbs onto the bed, which creaks and dips in protest, straddling Wade’s hips.

“Daddy, may I touch you?” Wade whispers.

“Da, malysh⁸,” the other breathes as he reaches for the discarded lube that is slowly leaking on the comforter.

Wade reaches and tentatively wraps a hand around hot, hard, not-at-all-flesh before him. Moans at the girth that his fingers can’t circle. Curiously explores the little ridges that are so clear all over Colossus’s metal skin and that are here too. They aren’t deep, and thankfully he finds they are not sharp, simply smooth and slightly recessed contour lines. Ridged for his pleasure, he thinks but doesn’t say. He grips gently and jacks a few times, feeling the slide of metal foreskin and damn that’s hot. Very gently rubs his thumb over the head of the cock peeking out of said foreskin, spreads the decidedly normal precum he finds there. Groans at this further proof that Colossus wants him of all people.

Colossus pours lube into one hand, then spreads it all over his cock, making it shine obscene and polished.

“On your knees, boy,” he enunciates thickly and Wade hastens to comply, squirming around between thick, silver thighs. Once he's on his hands and knees, stiff erection bobbing underneath him, he tries to spread his legs as far possible until they're pressed up against unyielding metal.

“Pretty little boy,” Colossus says thickly, as if speaking in English is getting more difficult to remember the longer this goes on. He's shifting, maneuvering, and spreading Wade's ass with one hand so that a literally rock hard, slick length can press to Wade's entrance. “Are you sure?”

“Never more sure of anything in my life,” Wade declares firmly. Then more in character, “I want Daddy to fuck all the bad boy right out of me.”

Colossus growls and starts pressing in slowly, and Wade's breath goes fast and slightly panicked because big, big, so big!, but then a warm metal hand is stroking the curve of his back, the jut of his hip and crooning, “Tishe, vsyo khorosho, khoroshiy malchick. Papochka o tebe pozabotitsya,⁹” and Wade reminds himself it's Colossus. He trusts Colossus. The guy is a big, shining knight in no armor, apparently with a daddy kink a mile wide. And he's decided pleasure, not pain, is how to make Wade behave. It'll be okay. He takes a shuddering breath and bears down and feels pressure turn to slide as a massive metal cock sinks slowly into him.

The stretch and fill is just right, just perfect. So much that he isn’t sure if he could take even a millimeter more. Not so much as to cause outright pain. Definitely enough for pleasure. As he tries shifting, wiggling, clenching, he finds ways that pull the stretch tighter, push it toward aching excess. It’s balanced on the edge between too much and not enough and together it’s out-of-this-world.

The wiggling is apparently working on Colossus too, because hands are gripping and rubbing his hips with a distracted, forceful lack of pattern. He’s not moving otherwise, either overwhelmed by the feeling or being considerate, and knowing Colossus, he’s being considerate.

“You are so tight,” he groans. “Wade, is it alright?”

“More than alright, Metal Daddy,” Wade pants. “You gonna fuck me up or not?”

“Maybe,” Colossus growls. “You are going to talk with mouth like that?”

“Sorry, Daddy. Please play with me some more?”

Wade tries to sound contrite and fails, but it’s apparently enough for Colossus because he starts moving. Within a minutes it becomes apparent to Wade that Colossus is way more interested in giving pleasure than taking it. He touches in a way that is for both of them, not just his own gratification, hands stroking smoothly over Wade’s chest or back or thighs. He moves in a way that is careful and considerate and a bit hesitant, probably far too used to partners who are only barely able to take him. He notices when Wade makes a high-pitched noise of approval and tries to drag it out of him again. It’s damn amazing, and wonderful, but Wade--as usual--wants more, wants all he can get, wants more than is probably good for him. So he uses his most potent weapon to get it: his mouth.

“Daddy, you feel so good,” he moans. “I want all of you, deeper.”

“Like this, moy dorogoy¹⁰?” comes the thickly accented reply, and the gasp from Wade is not acting, because finally finally Colossus is burying himself fully, hips pressed against him that are as hard as the length inside him.

“Like that, yes, it’s good!” Wade pants. “It’s okay to go harder or faster too. I’m a tough little boy. I won’t break.”

“Little boys should not have to be tough. Can be soft too. Can expect Daddy to take care of them nicely, not hurt them.”

The promise of something in life that doesn’t just try to abuse him and break him whips through Wade like an electric shock, thrumming across his nerves, straight to his groin. He’s whimpering as Colossus thrusts in just the right way, and when a large, warm, metal hand cups his cock, for the second time he's coming helplessly, trying to rub forward into the hand while pinned behind.

Colossus slows but doesn’t stop through the aftershocks of Wade’s orgasm. When Wade slumps in a boneless sprawl on the bed, he follows him down, hips pressing him into the mattress, slick hand shifting to Wade's hip, other forearm braced on the bed above Wade's shoulder to support Colossus's weight.

Languid and full of all the good hormones, at least temporarily, Wade moans happily at the feeling of strangely pliant metal lips brushing the back of his neck. They work their way toward his shoulder, in a pressure so light it's like butterflies.

“Are you done now?”

“I told you,” Wade slurs, face half pressed into the blankets, “healing factor, I'm fine.”

“There is fine 'I can take it’ and fine 'I want more.’ Am not interested in former, Wade.”

“You big boy scout. I'm fine, I can take it, and I want more.”

“Good,” Colossus rumbles, then pulls back and thrusts hard.

Wade can't find the energy to do more than lie there gripping the blankets and moaning enthusiastically as Colossus finally moves for his own pleasure. He's making little grunts and sighs as he slides, easy and slick and deep. Sparks of pleasure are flying along Wade's nerves in return as every thrust fills him up, stuffs him full, presses just right inside him. There's also the smooth, warm, unyielding feel against the inside of his legs, his thighs, his back. Skin that's not skin, muscle that's too firm to be muscle. Panting kisses from smooth, surprisingly supple lips on the back of his head.

He feels obscenely small under it all. Diminished and immature and delinquent. Scarred and rough next to smooth and shining.

“I'm not complaining. Really not. But how is this good for you?” he groans.

“What do you mean?” Colossus sounds confused and more than a little distracted. “You feel so good, such a good boy, so good for me,” he groans.

Somehow it's just too close to what Wade wants to hear and it makes him want to lash out. Contrariness and inability to believe he's actually getting what he wants. He can't just let it be, has to push it and test it and see if it breaks.

“Cut the daddy shit,” he groans, bucking weakly. “‘Good?’ How can you say that with a straight face. I'm not good and you know it. Plus, you're fucking a horror show.”

Colossus pauses, shocked. “Wade, you are good. You have all the makings of a hero. Your methods sometimes may need some …. help. But I know you can be one of the ‘good guys.’

“And you do feel good. I do not understand your hatred for your skin. Do you forget I am giant man made of metal? One of my teammates is blue man with fur? Mutants are better than most at seeing beauty inside, not differences outside.” A hand is stroking Wade's flank as he says this. Leans closer, pressed against Wade knee to shoulder, blanketing him in security. Security he just can't accept yet, too good to be true. Colossus starts thrusting shallowly again, continuing to pour praise into his ear.

“The way you look right now, wrapped around me. Is so good. The way you look when you come, so wrecked on my fingers, my cock. It makes me want to make you come again and again. The way you feel.” He grinds against Wade. “Wade, you feel so good. My friend, more than friend, opened up for me. So perfect around me. Around all of me. So wet, so tight, pulling me in.”

“You can't mean that,” Wade chokes out.

“I do mean it. I believe in you. I want you. All of you.”

Wade wraps his hands over the back of his head, covering his ears, trying to shut it out. Except all that happens is that Colossus presses gentle kisses to the back of both hands and fingers. Kisses while he's sheltered under Colossus's bulk, enveloped and safe and claimed.

It's too much. Too good. A sob shutters through Wade even though he tries to stop it. He's shaking. Denial or relief, he's not sure which, except something so good makes it feel like the world should be ending, because nothing this good ever happens to him. He feels Colossus still instantly.

“Wade, is it alright? Did I hurt you?” The big guy sounds on the edge of panic.

He tries to control his voice. “No, it's okay. Just. Just a lot. Like--” He swallows. “It's like wanting something absolutely impossible that you know you'll never have... and then getting it. Not sure it's real.” Another hitching sob escapes him before he can stop it.

Colossus sits back on his heels and pulls Wade with him until the scarred man is straddling him, his cock still buried inside Wade’s body. One hand drops to Wade's softened cock, smoothly stroking him back toward hardness, while the other gently turns his head.

“Believe it,” he says earnestly. Then captures Wade's lips in a kiss. Wade moans into it, hot mouth, sweet and tender with just an edge of control.

Colossus’s other hand drops from his cheek to his belly, stroking there as he rocks softly into Wade and moans into his mouth. It takes Wade a moment to realize Colossus is feeling himself through Wade’s skin, the slight bulge a sign of the length inside his body, and that is all it takes to bring him rushing back to full hardness.

He’s writhing into it, smooth hands and mouth and cock, torn between feeling exposed and helpless, loved and protected. Because no matter how defenseless he is in this moment, he’s sure Colossus isn’t going to hurt him, isn’t going to let anything else harm him either.

When he loses his last coherent thought and gives in to sensation, clenching around the long length inside him and covering metal fingers with translucent white, Colossus finally follows after, moaning into Wade’s mouth as he empties inside of him.

Colossus tips them forward and to their side onto the bed and they lie there panting. Wade closes his eyes and relaxes, doesn’t try to pull away from Colossus still inside him or the arms wrapped around him, metal fingers slowly stroking the skin on which they rest.

They drift into a light sleep, protected and protector, together.

“So, where’d the daddy kink come from?”

“Mmmfffrph,” is a rough approximation of the sound Colossus makes, opening one eye enough to squint at the contemplative-looking and naked X-Men trainee sprawled beside him.

Wade pokes him gently. “Seriously. Isn’t that perverted and out of character?”

Colossus sighs, reaches and pulls Wade against him. “Is about protecting others,” he says softly, sleepily blinking his eyes open to watch Wade. “Being bigger, stronger. Helping others see what is right. Like father.”

Wade thoughtfully traces lines on the metal chest in front of him. “Well…… I won’t object. It’s pretty hot. You being those things. So are you going to be my metal daddy, or was this a one-time thing?”

Colossus’s gaze is suddenly sharp, alert. He leans forward to graze Wade’s lips, then deepens the kiss when there’s an enthusiastic response. When Wade seems about to start humping one of his thighs, he finally breaks the kiss.

“Not one-time thing.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Wade breathes and tries to resume the kiss, except he’s intercepted by a finger on his lips.

“But you have to keep your promise. Or the only thing you will get is punishment, not reward.”

Wade does a quick calculation of his chances of remembering about non-lethal force added to the probability he can come from a spanking alone, and likes his overall odds. Plus, there’s all of Colossus to consider, big and shining and here in his bed with him, talking about protecting and kissing like he means it. Yeah, he can try his hardest to keep his word.

“I promise to try to keep my promise, Daddy,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

Colossus sighs again. “My name is Piotr. No need for Papochka all the time.”

“Oooo, Piotr! Mne nravitsa. Khotya 'Metallicheskiy Papochka' mne nravitsa toszhe,¹¹” Wade purrs and watches Colossus’s--no, Piotr’s--eyes widen in surprise and pleasure.

“Ty govorish' po-russki?”¹²

“Da.¹³ You’ll find I’m just full of surprises.”

¹ kak skaszhesh: fine, as you say [back]

² papochka: daddy [back]

³ tishe: as in "be quiet", but in more comforting sense, like "shh"[back]

⁴ moy malchick: my boy, my little boy [back]

⁵ mne zhal: I'm sorry (that I've done it), forgive me. [back]

⁶ Pozhaluysta: Please [back]

⁷ Moy sladkiy, besstyszhiy malchick. Takoy poslushnyi, takoy krasyvyi, kogda ya zanimayus' s toboy lyubovyu…: My sweet, shameless little boy. So obedient, so beautiful, when I make love to you... [back]

(Side note, I started with “My lovely, vulgar little boy, you will look so wrecked, so pretty while I make love to you,” and this is where the translation ended up. Apparently Russian is hard. :) [back]

⁸ da, malysh: yes, baby/little boy/baby boy [back]

⁹ Tishe, vsyo khorosho, khoroshiy malchick. Papochka o tebe pozabotitsya.: Hush, it's alright, good little boy. Let Daddy take care of you. [back]

¹⁰ moy dorogoy: my darling [back]

¹¹ Oooo, Piotr! Mne nravitsa. Khotya 'Metallicheskiy Papochka' mne nravitsa toszhe.: Oooo, Piotr! I like it. Although I like Metal Daddy too. [back]

¹² Ty govorish' po-russki?: You speak Russian? [back]

¹³ da: yes [back]