~SladeBilly/Winterstroke~ @sladebilly-inc - Tumblr Blog

An accidental brush with Slade leaves Wintergreen consumed by an irrepressible fantasy.

For the sake of his sanity—and his relationship with his best friend—he needs to recreate it, get the association out of his system, and move on.

Unfortunately, for that, he only knows one person…

Warnings : 18+, selfish sex, riding, Wintergreen acts like an asshole and just takes what he wants.

Stupid accident. Slade had tried to get up to grab his jacket from the opposite seat… bad luck—he lost his balance and ended up plopping right down on Wintergreen’s thighs. Ouch. The other guys at the table burst into loud, rare laughter; Slade muttered some excuse before grabbing his jacket—clearly a bit annoyed by the over-the-top teasing—as one of the guys handed it to him.

And Wintergreen… Wintergreen had immediately pressed his still-burning cup of tea to his lips, trying to come up with a more acceptable excuse for the sudden flush in his cheeks.

Outside the restaurant, Wintergreen comforted himself as best he could.

If Slade had felt anything while slipping across his crotch, he had the decency not to mention it.

A few days passed, and the trace—no, the memory—of Slade’s weight on his lap, the way the curve of his backside had accidentally brushed against his erection… all of it proved stubborn. Like a parasite that made Wintergreen feel even more dishonest than usual. It seemed to him that the way he looked at Slade, the desire he felt for him… everything had only grown worse.

He hated himself for objectifying the younger man so much, more than ever—so much that he found himself summoning the memory of that accidental friction just to reach orgasm.

And then, finally… an idea to vent his turmoil came to him, in the form of a small scrap of tablecloth he found crumpled in a pocket, bearing a number the Englishman had deleted from his phone months earlier.

Wade’s voice was slightly muffled; there was a low rumble all around him—shouting, or music, maybe both.

“Well, I’ll be damned… Didn’t reckon you’d call me back this quick. Hell, didn’t reckon you’d call at all. So what’s got you hurtin’ bad enough to come cryin’ for comfort, huh? Lemme guess… Slade already gone and knocked her up?”

Wintergreen didn’t flinch at the young man’s provocation. He’d heard sharper jabs during their late-night phone calls. Wade never lacked humor when it came to emasculating, ridiculing, teasing, or unsettling people…

“Adeline is pregnant, yes. Four months. But I took the news remarkably well—I’m actually quite happy for them.”

A brief silence opened on the other end of the line, giving Wintergreen a moment to better take in the steady background noise still pouring through.

“Shit… so I’m gonna be some kinda uncle now, huh? Well I’ll be fucked, that’s news to me. World sure as hell didn’t need another Wilson runnin’ around, but hey… somebody’s gotta feed the dirt with manure, like our big bastard of a daddy used to say.”

There wasn’t any particular anger in Wade’s voice. Just the usual poison—maybe a hint of jealousy at other people’s happiness and… perhaps a touch of pain.

Wintergreen didn’t have time for that. Not beyond whatever relief Wade might offer him, knowingly or not.

“Charming. As always. Where are you right now?”

“Gotham city. Why? Miss my sweet ass that much you’d actually travel all this way just to get a piece of it?”

“Why do you always have to make everything about sex? Have a little dignity. I just want to see you, that’s all…”

The lie had barely left Wintergreen’s mouth before it already left a bitter taste on his tongue.

It wasn’t the first time he’d lied. And a little prick like Wade hardly deserved much more consideration than that, but… the silence on the other end of the line made him hesitate for a moment. Then Wade burst out laughing.

“Your balls must be reeeal blue if you’re insisting on traveling all the way to Gotham just to fuck some guy… But pulling out rom-com lines on top of that? That’s kinda cute, in your own way I guess.”

Wintergreen cut off the younger man’s mocking tirade:

“Wade, I don’t have the patience for this. I asked where you were and whether you were free so we could meet. No? Fine. But don’t paint me as some kind of pervert, or you’re going to make me regret being stupid enough to worry about you.”

Wade blew sharply into the phone, so hard Wintergreen could easily picture the young man deliberately pressing his lips against the microphone. He could almost feel the warm air against his ear. The sensation was strange. Somehow a bit arousing too.

Then, finally, with feigned resignation, Wade gave in:

“Relax, old man. You got a pen and paper?”

Wintergreen had rarely felt as stupid as he did while boarding a plane at four in the morning bound for Gotham, all just to chase a grotesque fantasy about his best friend’s half-brother out of his head… It all sounded so terrible.

The address Wade had given him led the taxi deep into one of Gotham’s rougher neighborhoods. The streets were littered with trash; some people wandered aimlessly, shaking from withdrawal or with bloodshot eyes.

It was late, after all. There weren’t many families out.

The driver stopped in front of a tall gray building that rose about ten stories high. The balconies lining the façade seemed almost alive beneath the warm breeze that made the hanging clothes sway back and forth.

Wade had been waiting for him outside his door on the seventh floor. He wore a T-shirt and shorts, his hands wrapped in bandages and his left cheekbone decorated with a nasty bruise still dark purple in color. Wade had grinned like an idiot when the Englishman, out of simple politeness, asked where it had come from.

“That? Occupational hazard.”

Then he ushered him into the tiny apartment without another explanation.

Contrary to what Wintergreen had feared, it wasn’t especially filthy. A few takeout boxes from various places, a couch patched up one too many times…

But the state of the floor made it obvious Wade had swept recently. Which was, at the very least, surprising.

Wintergreen was about to ask whether Wade lived alone when noises from a nearby room told him otherwise.

“My roommate, Jim. He says he’s an escort, but I think he’s just a good old-fashioned whore,” Wade explained in an especially unpleasant tone as he lounged across the dubious-looking couch.

Before Wintergreen could reply, said Jim strode into the room in a few long steps, headed for the fridge, and grabbed himself a beer. He looked around Wade’s age, maybe a little younger… and utterly exhausted, muttering a distracted “hey” to the stranger his roommate had brought home.

Wade straightened slightly on the couch, resting an arm along the armrest, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jim, buddy, perfect timing—I was just sitting here thinkin’ you oughta quit half-assing it. Hell, even I’m hookin’ more than you these days.” He gestured toward Wintergreen with one hand.

Jim shot his roommate a dark look before turning tired amber eyes toward Wintergreen.

“I dunno what he told you, man, but don’t let him fool you. He’d strip you naked, beat the shit outta you, and rob you blind if he felt like it.”

Then he disappeared back into his room, beer can in hand.

Wintergreen sighed before turning toward Wade.

“What exactly do you have against him?”

Wade shrugged before sinking back into the couch.

“Dunno… the guy just gets on my damn nerves. Comes home at all hours of the night, sometimes he’s cryin’ at like three in the mornin’. I can’t stand whiny types like that. And if one of his johns ever stabs him or somethin’, that’s gonna screw me over on the rent and all that shit.”

Wintergreen shook his head. Wade’s disgust toward any display of vulnerability reminded him a little too much of another young man.

A slightly older one. Blonder.

“Careful, Wade. Swallow any more compassion and you might choke on it,” he said dryly as he sat down on the edge of the couch, carefully avoiding a few suspicious streaks of grime.

Wade looked up at him, the pale blue of his eyes suddenly much darker beneath the apartment’s poor lighting.

“Whatever man. So—did you bring any condoms or what?”

“Real classy, Wade. No, I didn’t bring any. Why are you in such a hurry that you can’t manage five minutes of actual conversation? Not that anything you’ve said so far has been particularly brilliant.”

Wade narrowed his eyes, smiling just enough for the wariness radiating off him to show through.

“You know, Wintergreen… you might wanna be careful playin’ this little game. ‘Cause it’s startin’ to make me wanna play too. It’d be real fuckin’ funny to me if I had you sittin’ on a plane for six hours for nothin’ and then sent your ass right back home all frustrated… You’re lucky I actually feel like getting laid.”

And with that, before Wintergreen had the reflex to pull away or answer back, Wade grabbed him by the hips, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket… and with his left hand pulled out one of the condom packets hidden inside.

The Englishman cursed inwardly, blushing a little at having his dishonesty exposed so ridiculously easily—and even more at the complete lack of surprise on the younger man’s face.

“So that’s what the ‘actual conversation’ was about? Well, good news, I already know how those go. C’mon."

Jumping up from the couch in one smooth motion, he led the older man to his bedroom. Messy, like the rest of the apartment, but not disgusting.

No pictures of anyone, no decorations. Just clothes scattered everywhere, though the bed itself had, strangely enough, been made.

Wade started undressing, tossing the condom he’d already taken out of its wrapper onto one of the few uncluttered spots on his nightstand. He spread his legs, far less tense than the last time. Proof enough: that cheap smug grin still hadn’t left his face.

Wintergreen figured he must enjoy this. Watching him invent excuses to come all the way here, watching him sink deeper into it… all those complications for nothing, since Wade wanted him too anyway.

He was a bastard. But Wintergreen couldn’t quite suppress a flicker of admiration for his brutal honesty.

“Still ain’t gettin’ undressed?”

Wade asked when he saw Wintergreen still standing there, fully clothed in his suit jacket, hands on his hips. For now, Wintergreen was only watching.

Wade had put on a bit of weight since last time—mostly muscle, more build. Not enough to become bulkier than him, but just enough to shrink the physical gap between him and Slade a little more. There was something even more familiar in the width of his shoulders, the still-lean but defined swell of his chest, the way his abs tightened in clean, regular lines.

And whatever he might claim with his impatient attitude, Wade loved the attention. His cock was already starting to harden between his thighs, and quite obviously, he shifted his stance slightly from time to time just to give the older man a better view.

Still without making any move to undress, Wintergreen sat down next to Wade and tapped his thighs, signalling for him to climb on.

Wade rolled his eyes before complying, climbing onto him. Wintergreen soon closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the sensation—so familiar to the one that had obsessed him for months.

“Come on, move a bit. Rub against me,” he ordered the younger man after a while.

Wade didn’t take long to comply. He ground himself against Wintergreen, lifting slightly with each movement, a bit hindered by the fabric of his trousers stretched tight over the British man’s erection.

“It’d be a whole lot easier if you just took ‘em off, y’know… I swear, if you just end up finishin’ in your damn pants while I’m rubbin’ up on you, I might actually end up provin’ Jim right.”

Wintergreen groaned before placing a hand over the younger man’s mouth.

Objectively, Wade’s body fit the role of Slade’s perfectly. But when he talked this much… sometimes that sharp mouth of his was almost intoxicating. Not now though. Right now, Wintergreen just needed him to shut up and do what he wanted.

In response, Wade arched slightly, his ass pressing more firmly against the other man. Wintergreen let out a satisfied groan before slowly removing the hand he had been holding over the young man’s mouth.

“There. That’s better. Good boy…”

He tightened his large hands around Wade’s waist, guiding his movements as the younger man kept doing his best to grind against him as fully as possible. Eventually, he kissed Wade’s neck hard enough to leave marks.

“You still want more, hm? Nod if yes.”

He couldn’t see Wade’s face, his expression… but the rapid, almost frantic movement of the young man’s neck as he nodded was enough to suggest an open mouth and a forehead already damp with strands of hair sticking in small, sweat-slick clumps from arousal.

He had been right.

Wintergreen finally removed his trousers and boxer briefs and placed the condom into Wade’s palm.

“Put it on. Quickly.”

The way the young man’s hand slid the condom onto himself in a single attempt, the small habit of pinching the reservoir at the tip… made it obvious to Wintergreen that if Slade’s half-brother had once lied about his sexual experience, he had more than made up for it in the meantime.

Wintergreen grabbed his arm to position him over his lap. He wasn’t worried about losing his erection while preparing Wade and risking making the condom unusable. He knew very well that with what he was seeing right now, that was extremely unlikely.

Fortunately this time, Wade wasn’t impossibly tight, and Wintergreen was able to ease two fingers inside him without too much difficulty, lubricated only with the saliva he had gathered earlier by pushing them into the mouth of the young man currently sitting on his lap.

Wade handled it well, too. He no longer groaned in pain or twisted from discomfort trying to find a better position. The newfound looseness in his body told its own story… and Wintergreen had too little interest in him to take the time to listen to it. He slipped in another finger the moment he was able to, barely waiting until Wade was open enough for it.

Wintergreen had never been a selfish lover, but now…

There was no exploration. No attempt to coax any particular sound from the young man’s throat.

As soon as he judged him ready, Wintergreen gripped his waist again, this time guiding him down onto him, Wade’s back still pressed against his chest.

Wade protested a little physically, perhaps not entirely comfortable moving on to that stage yet…

But while the younger man had gained some build, he remained supple and pliant beneath Wintergreen’s strong hands.

The Englishman held back something like a sigh of relief as he finally felt himself pushing into the still-tight opening.

He closed his eyes, resting his jaw in the crook of the younger man’s neck while, arms wrapped around his waist, he helped him move.

The sensation of truly being able to go back in time—to fuck Slade on that damned restaurant booth—was almost perfect.

Almost, because every now and then Wade would let out a moan or some remark, and Wintergreen would correct him, covering his mouth again or giving him a firm slap against the thigh.

“Go on. Good boy. Move on your own now.”

After a few minutes, he let his hands fall to either side of the bed.

Wade, nearly silent despite his ragged breathing, began moving by himself, lifting and lowering himself along the older man’s cock, the wet friction producing an almost obscene sound.

“That’s it… keep going like that… good boy… move your hips a little more.”

Wade was completely lost in the sex. Maybe he had taken something before meeting him, too. Once again, Wintergreen didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was that Wade kept moving like this above him.

Fucking himself down onto his cock. Back pressed against him while he thought about someone else.

Soon, Wintergreen felt himself getting close enough to climax that he gripped Wade’s shoulders more firmly.

“That’s good… don’t move now…There, just like that, stay all the way down, take it all, darling… that’s it…”

Wade had gone looser now, his body relaxing slightly around the Englishman’s length. Warm, but less tight.

Wintergreen didn’t mind. It felt good to stay just stimulated enough while riding out his orgasm, still kissing the young man’s neck, brushing aside the bleached strands of hair to leave darker marks against sun-browned skin.

There was a kind of silent gratitude in those kisses. He would never tell Wade what he had truly helped him with… but he could reward him for it.

Still inside the younger man though softer now, he reached a hand around to finally grasp the cock he had so cruelly ignored until now…

He couldn’t resist the temptation to mock him when it took Wade only a few rough strokes to spill into his fist.

“My God, how do you act so tough when you come in a few seconds, hm? You’re so desperate for a little attention you fall apart over almost nothing, darling…”

Wade let out a low grunt in response… but he was still far too weak and dazed to really protest.

Wintergreen guided him onto his side, still kissing the back of his neck, this time no longer just as a reward but simply because he simply wanted to do it.

Wade remained strangely calm, his broad chest rising in uneven motions, trembling faintly with lingering pleasure.

Eventually, he found his voice again, rough and breathless:

“Well now… if you ever run your mouth like that to anybody, I swear I’ll mess you up... But damn it all, truth is, ain’t nobody fucks me like you do. I feel your cock more than I’ve ever felt anybody else’s.”

Wintergreen couldn’t suppress a small laugh, pausing his kisses.

“I know.I know exactly what you want.”

Wade muttered an insult before pulling away to sit up on the bed.

“Fuck you…”

Wintergreen asked if he was alright. Wade shot him a dark look before getting up with a sharp movement of his hips and heading out to smoke on the tiny balcony. He came back without offering any explanation for his sudden mood swing.

Without perhaps fully realizing it, Wintergreen was beginning to think, that’s just Wade. He’s like that. He was getting used to this boy who let him fuck him and then stormed off without warning, without transition.

He glanced at the used condom he had tossed into the small bedroom trash bin just as Wade climbed back into bed beside him, pointedly turning his back to him.

“Now either you sleep right here, or you go do the dumbest thing of your whole life and wander ‘round Gotham at night. Your call, old man.”

Wade shrugged. Wintergreen’s hand drifted over the young man’s shoulders, where the bleached blond strands were beginning to give way to his natural brown again.

Despite how tense he was, curled in on himself, Wade still allowed the touch.

“You know your bleach job’s growing out?” Wintergreen asked thoughtfully.

Wade gave a broad shrug before switching off the bedside lamp.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll probably redo it in September. Maintenance.”

Wintergreen yawned.

“Suit yourself… but I think it suits you better when you’re brunette. It feels more… like you.”

A deep silence followed.

Wade pulled away from Wintergreen’s touch.

The next morning, waking with the weight of the younger man’s head resting on his chest, everything suddenly hit the Englishman at once.

He had gone way too far.

#william randolph wintergreen #wade lafarge #slade wilson #winterwade

•18+ Adults Only

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Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: William Randolph Wintergreen/Wade LaFarge Characters: William Randolph Wintergreen, Wade LaFarge, Slade Wilson Additional Tags: Smut, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Hate Sex, I hate this ship but I love it too Summary:

Straight out of the "Winterwade" Tumblr fic I've been writing over the past few months :

Wintergreen meets Wade at Slade and Adeline's wedding. It's mutual hate at first sight, with a sexual bonus round.

Wintergreen wants Wade because he looks like Slade and he can't have the real thing, and Wade wants Wintergreen because... Who the hell knows what goes on inside that lunatics head?

Phone sex and shameful motel hookups ensue.

#william randolph wintergreen #wade lafarge #winterwade #complete for now 🙂‍↕️

sladebilly-inc

Wintergreen struggles to hide his melancholy at Slade and Adeline’s wedding, and, to top it all off, he finds himself stuck enduring Wade’s company at the reception.

All Wintergreen knows about Slade’s half-brother is that he has a particular talent for stirring up trouble and messing with people’s heads… He still doesn’t yet know just how far that goes.

Wade downed his glass of wine in one go, smiling with wolfish teeth. He was a handsome man in that same space where Slade was handsome too… And yet, side by side, the two half-brothers had little to nothing in common. Wintergreen had noticed it immediately—recognizing a brother required familiarity with the other.

And if Wade called himself a Lafarge, he carried himself like a Wilson. Even more so than Slade, perhaps; it was enough to see how all his worst traits—arrogance, excess—seeped out of him in every word he spoke. Out of place. Proud.

“Who do I have to fuck here to get more wine, for fuck’s sake?”

Wintergreen, looking highly affronted, folded his napkin and placed it neatly back on his lap. He carefully avoided meeting Wade’s gaze, which filled him with great disgust. He refused to believe that someone so detestable could have the same eyes as the man he had been sighing over for years.

“I cannot stand vulgarity,” he let slip, even though giving this man any attention felt unbearable.

Wade set his wine glass down with a soft clink, then leaned further toward Wintergreen, his smile like a bite on his canine face.

“Oh, alright then. Who should I make tender love to in order to get more wine, please?”

Wintergreen did his best to suppress the smile threatening to tug at his lips. Wade was the very last person in the room he wanted to talk to… after Slade and Addie. But for two entirely different reasons.

“You’re the best man, right?” Wade asked, his voice heavy with Southern drawl and wine.

He had shown up at the end of the ceremony. Wintergreen remembered how Slade had tensed at the altar when he saw his half-brother wandering between the church pews, before Frannie grabbed his arm and forced him to sit down. He had rarely seen his friend so pale, so worried, so…

Wade cut off his thoughts by casually taking Wintergreen’s glass, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and pouring it into his own to refill it. Wintergreen was still disarmed by such a blatant lack of manners.

“Far be it from me to disrespect your mother, but don’t you happen to have a bit of pig’s blood somewhere?”

Wade downed the new drink in one go, then wiped the corners of his mouth. He didn’t look the least bit offended; he only watched Wintergreen from the depths of his too-blue eyes. He looked serene like that, almost gentle, like someone gazing out at the sea.

Wintergreen did not yet know that this calm expression was the one Wade wore when he knew he had found a pressure point.

“So that’s what you like about my brother? Pig’s blood? Or is it the whole handsome, unattainable straight guy thing?”

He said it very calmly, carefully enunciating each syllable despite the heaviness of his alcohol-soaked tongue and the lingering drawl of his accent.

Wintergreen felt his face grow warm despite himself. He forced himself to stay composed as he replied, though the heat likely hardened his features:

“Let me guess… You feel so small and insignificant next to your brother that you imagine everyone is madly in love with him and hates you?”

Wade placed his elbows on the table, making Wintergreen physically recoil in discomfort, and rested his chin in his hands as he studied him even more closely.

He had clearly been affected by the words… but what showed in his expression was mostly a sick kind of excitement. Wintergreen thought the young man was probably congratulating himself on having found a way to sow chaos at his brother’s wedding… and it would have been very foolish—reckless—to let him.

“Small and insignificant…? Psychologically or... physically?” Wade asked, smiling a little wider. It was Slade’s smile—the one after successful training, a sporting achievement, a military medal… and it was hard for Wintergreen to swallow. Hard to face.

And the crude insinuations from the young man made him feel indescribably nauseous.

“Both seem accurate.”

“Think again. I do need to beat my wonderful, wonderful older brother on some kind of field.”

“What kind of man compares his... That to his half-brother's like that… it’s beyond me. Your inferiority complex must be monstrous to sink that low.”

Wade laughed warmly at Wintergreen’s disgusted grimace, who got up and went outside for some air.

It was hard not to replay Wade’s biting remarks. Slade had been right all these years to describe him as a little shit constantly looking for trouble. What an asshole…

And anyway, Wintergreen had little desire to stay for the ball, for Slade and Addie’s first dance… Damn, he was probably worse than Wade in that room. Not being able to swallow his jealousy while his two best friends were celebrating their love… what was wrong with him?

He lit a cigarette and looked out at the sea crashing against the rocks. He stayed there for an unusually long time—thirty minutes, then nearly an hour. No one seemed to notice his absence…

Until he felt someone join him. Slade? No, of course not. Wade.

The young man was watching him with a wide grin, clearly enjoying seeing him in such a foul mood.

“Well… I hope I’m not the one who put you in this state, sweetheart? Or is it because the newlyweds are about to open the dance floor and you ran out here so no one would see you cry?”

“Still getting off on your little scenarios?” Wintergreen snapped. “Want another one? A brother with no job, a criminal record as long as my arm, living off the state and spending his time cursing his brother for having a decent life.”

He flicked ash into the ashtray.

For a precious moment, Wade seemed calm. To Wintergreen’s great surprise—already bracing for a fight that felt inevitable—the hostility left the young man’s face as he came to lean against the balcony railing beside him. It took Wade a long time to speak again, and Wintergreen was surprised not to hear his usual venom:

“You know… you’ll never have him. He’s always been obsessed with normality. Even as a child, you could see it in his eyes: a respectable wife, a nice little family, a good career… I’m not saying my brother doesn’t like men. I’m not saying that at all.

But if he started sleeping with you—the family’s best friend, the uncle of his future kids, a man… it would all fall apart. So he won’t do it. I’m saying this for your own good y’know.”

Wintergreen had been ready for provocation, for insults—but this… it left him infuriatingly disarmed. What could he even say, except repeat that the man was wrong over and over again? He already had, and if Wade was a little shit… he wasn’t stupid.

Then, before Wintergreen could react, still stunned by the surreal words, Wade slipped a small piece of tablecloth into his hand, roughly torn, with a phone number scribbled on it.

“Anytime you want, hun. I don’t mind being your consolation prize once in a while.”

With a wink, Wade disappeared back into the hall, probably off to find someone else to provoke—maybe even the groom. Wintergreen stood there on the balcony for a few more minutes, his hand hovering over the railing, ready to let the scrap of cloth drift away in the wind… and then—

He folded it and put it in his pocket. Because it wouldn’t have been environmentally friendly to throw that into nature.

That was all, of course.

Just that... Right?

sladebilly-inc

~Part 2~ :

Adeline and Slade leave for their week-long honeymoon…

and Wintergreen feels like absolute shit about it.

...Really bad. Bad enough that he ends up doing something he definitely shouldn’t—

calling the last person on earth he ever thought he would.

tw: Wade being an awful awful perv

Wade picked up immediately, that smug, mocking grin bleeding straight into his voice—and even though Wintergreen could hear it clear as day, he didn’t give a damn.

He was drowning in his own misery and self-pity… he just needed to talk to the one person he didn’t have to fake happiness around.

Wade talked. Nonstop.

About how Frannie had thrown his ass out—again.

About how after the wedding he went to see some old contact out East, and that guy kicked him out too. Now he was crashing at some friend-of-a-friend’s place, hoping to find someone willing to give him a ride to Maine.

Wade’s life was a complete trainwreck. He bitched about it as much as he laughed about it, laughing at himself, at being the product of a fucked-up environment… and anyone with half a brain could tell: it hurt like hell.

It took him a solid five minutes to stop rambling about himself and actually focus on Wintergreen.

“—Hey, so… you’re a Major, right?”

His voice curled like something nasty, like a poisonous grin you could hear. The second Wintergreen said yes, it got worse.

“And Slade’s a colonel, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“But… you’re what… twelve years older than him?”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven years older and still outranked? Damn. You ever think about that? ’Cause I’d fucking hate it.”

Wintergreen was this close to calling him a dumbass and hanging up. Then—

“Yeah, sometimes. When I’m lying in my big bed and driving my luxury car to visit my mom in her castle… really eats me alive.”

Total exaggeration… but there was a faint noise in the background. Something metallic getting knocked aside. Wade, probably kicking something in irritation.

Wintergreen let himself enjoy that for a second before Wade came back, voice a little rougher.

“Go on. Tell me about you… what do you do besides flying your little fast planes and going nowhere in the army? I bet you’ve got tons of fancy stories for your rich buddies at cocktail parties…”

“You actually care about hearing about my rich asshole life?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be wasting my shitty redneck phone plan on you. I’d buy beer and gum instead. So yeah—talk.”

Wintergreen couldn’t help it—he felt flattered.

Wade was crude, pushy… but the way he pushed hit something he hadn’t realized he needed, not after everything Slade and Addie’s wedding had stirred up.

So he talked. About his free time, his travels, digging through libraries for rare books, the strategies he came up with just for the hell of it… because it kept his brain alive.

Wade kept nudging him along, that restless, impatient edge never leaving his voice. Sometimes just a sharp, almost too intense: “keep going.”

Wintergreen was too caught up in finally having someone to talk to to question it—until…

the sound.

A faint rubbing noise. Then louder. Way too loud to ignore.

“—Wait… what the hell is that?”

“—What do you think? I’m jerking off.”

He said it like it was obvious. Like Wintergreen was stupid for even asking. Smug. Condescending. Like explaining something basic to a kid.

Of course he was jerking off. Why wouldn’t he be.

There was a long, brutal silence.

Wintergreen just sat there, frozen—half horrified, half weirdly fascinated by how completely Wade didn’t give a shit about boundaries. About what was normal.

Then finally, his voice dropped, tight and sharp:

“—You better be screwing with me, Wade.”

But now it was even clearer. Wade wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore—and he’d stopped pretending to care about the conversation.

“—You said you’re in England, right? So what—like 3 a.m. over there? Don’t bullshit me, Wintergreen.”

“—Jesus Christ, you’re fucking disgusting.”

“—Your dirty talk sucks. Do better, you’re seriously killing my boner.”

“—I should’ve listened to Slade. You’re completely fucked in the head…”

“—Says the guy calling me in the middle of the night. Just ’cause you’re polite enough to hang up before you start jerking off to my voice doesn’t make you classy…”

Wintergreen hung up hard, Wade’s laughter still ringing in his ears.

He tossed the phone onto the bed, dragged a hand through his hair, gripping hard.

What the hell was he thinking. Calling Wade. Of all people.

A few seconds passed.

Then he unbuckled his belt

…and called Wade back.

custer-mars

~Part 3~ :

Slade and Adeline return from their honeymoon.

... Wintergreen struggles with all his might to swallow down the memory of the nights he spends on the phone with his best friend’s awful half-brother… When Wade suggests they sleep together for real, he finds himself unable to refuse.

Tw : Smut (+18), anal sex, rough love making, dirty talk

Wade had asked him to meet at a small diner near downtown. He was already sitting in a booth along the parking lot windows, wearing an old brown hoodie that had probably seen better days. Wintergreen had told Slade and Addie he needed to step out to see an old friend who was in town for a few days. It was a good lie. There was truth in it.

Wade was no more pleasant than usual. He was sipping a Coke, and when Wintergreen ordered lemon tea, he mocked him. “A fucking walking stereotype…” Wintergreen gave a mocking smirk and shot back that it was a bit rich coming from an American drinking Coke.

Wade pouted, and when he finally pulled back his hood, his hair suddenly fell across his forehead. The young man had dyed it.

It was blond now. A shade far too close to Slade’s for it to be an accident or a bad bleach job… Wade knew exactly what he was doing.

Wintergreen froze instantly, his back stiff against the diner booth. Still, he refused to give Wade the satisfaction of seeing him flinch or demand explanations for such an extreme gesture. He was crazy. There was no point looking for explanations from crazy people.

Wade seemed a little disappointed that Wintergreen didn’t call him out on his tasteless joke. He tried making conversation instead, probably looking for other ways to needle him, to get under his skin:

“So, you said you were an only child?”

“No. But I have sisters. I’m the oldest,” Wintergreen answered cautiously. He stayed deliberately vague, not eager to hand Wade a weapon to use against him. Unexpectedly, Wade’s expression softened a little.

“Lucky you! I would’ve preferred that, honestly, instead of having that giant asshole!” he laughed before emptying his glass. Wintergreen shook his head, his expression tightening.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t like Slade. Maybe it would’ve been worse for you with sisters. Nothing says you would’ve gotten along with—”

“No… I’m saying that because you didn’t grow up with, you know… being compared to an older brother. And fuck, I really do think I would’ve liked it. Having a little sister.”

Wade ran a hand through his hair, an enigmatic smile on his lips as his gaze drifted into space. Wintergreen was surprised to feel a flicker of empathy for him and—

“But not too young, though, right? Y’know, so she could’ve introduced me to her friends,” the young man added in a horribly lewd tone. Wintergreen shook his head, putting on a disappointed expression.

“You know, Wade… you’re exceptionally talented at making yourself unlikeable. Every time I find some tiny endearing trait in you, you crush it. It’s actually… pretty pathetic.”

Wade pushed his empty glass aside on the table, still smiling, even though the usual aggression in his eyes suddenly seemed a little duller.

“Guess it’s a matter of perspective. Anyway. You wanna fuck or not?”

Wintergreen felt a little nervous while Wade carried himself with the same swagger as always.

He was smoking on the bed, legs spread lazily apart, already naked. He had gotten rid of his clothes the moment he stepped through the door. His jeans and T-shirt lay like two ship sails drowning against the blue motel carpet.

Wintergreen hadn’t dared bring Wade back to his own hotel room for reasons that were more than obvious. Even more obvious now that Wade was sprawled lazily across the bed, stretching out onto his back, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray… Wintergreen doubted this boy had ever possessed any sense of modesty, and now that he was undressing himself, he almost blushed at his own judgment.

If Wade hadn’t dragged him into all this… he probably would have ended up fantasizing about him anyway.

He pulled out what they needed from his pockets, and when he told Wade, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather top,” Wade answered with nothing more than a grunt as he rolled onto his stomach and spread his legs slightly.

Mechanical.

There was something strange about having Wade so quiet beneath him when he had been so provocative over the phone, so seemingly attached to dirty talk in his sexuality. Wintergreen had expected an especially vocal partner, and while it was pleasant for once not to hear Wade spewing his usual bullshit… it was also almost gloomy.

“You’re not talking much… Are you upset about what I said at the diner?” he couldn’t help asking as he coated his fingers with lubricant. He spread the young man’s cheeks slightly to better find the entrance. Wade barely reacted.

“Nah, this is just to maximize your experience. The less I talk and the more I grunt like an idiot, the more it’ll feel like you’re fucking you know who. That’s why you want me, right? Face-wise it’s debatable, but we’re built pretty much the same.”

Wintergreen muttered a quiet, “Don’t say that…” as his thumb expertly slid along the space between Wade’s cheeks before finally pressing into him, little by little.

He was surprised by the resistance he found there, by how reluctantly Wade’s body opened around him.

“Fuck, Wade… are you tense? Breathe a little. Relax.”

Wade turned his head to the side against the pillow. Despite the long dyed strands of hair, Wintergreen could still see his jaw tightening.

“I’m not tense. Shut the fuck up and do your job.”

Wintergreen saw no point in insisting. He pushed his thumb deeper before withdrawing it and replacing it with his index and middle finger.

The opening had already nearly closed again. He pressed harder, still surprised to feel the pressure trying to force him back out, the skin tightening around his fingers as though they were trapped between a tongue and a palate.

He added more lubricant, more generously than he ever would have imagined necessary… Wade held back his moans, but his thighs trembled with those tiny, easily noticeable movements. Every time Wintergreen encouraged him or asked whether he wanted to take a break, Wade answered with the first homophobic slur that came to mind. The young man spoke through clenched teeth. A tight throat, too.

It took Wade several long minutes before he managed to relax enough to take three full fingers. When Wintergreen finally withdrew them, he noticed that although the opening had stayed visible, the skin around it was slightly red and swollen.

“Wade… are you sure you don’t want to stop?”

“Jesus Christ, are you going to fuck me like a man or are you going to keep treating me like your girlfriend?” This time, Wade genuinely sounded angry. His face was almost bright red against the pillow, and Wintergreen wasn’t naïve enough not to understand.

“I’m warning you, lad. Insult me one more time and I’m getting dressed and leaving. Are we clear?”

Obviously, Wade didn’t burst into apologies. But he muttered a quiet “Got it,” which Wintergreen chose to take as encouragement.

Preparing Wade had been so unexpectedly tedious that he’d barely had the chance to enjoy himself, aside from the pleasure of watching Wade struggle to suppress tremors he couldn’t control and choke back the moans caught in his throat. He made Wade sit up on the bed despite the weakened state he had already left the younger man in :

“Okay, don’t just lie there. Do something,”

Wade grumbled as Wintergreen rolled him onto his back. He hadn’t needed much force. Wade was physically sturdy, naturally broad, a little bulky… but he still weighed considerably less than either his older brother or Wintergreen, light enough at least for the older man to move him around however he pleased.

Now beneath the other man, Wade lowered one hand to grab his cock, still hanging soft, stroking and kneading it until it hardened into shape. The young man was still trying to maintain some sense of composure, but whether he realized it or not, it was hopeless. His cheeks were flushed, his breathing ragged against Wintergreen’s neck as he jerked him off with a dexterity that clashed sharply with the first impression he had given earlier. It didn’t take long before Wintergreen was hard enough to roll the condom over himself.

Wade made a move to turn back onto his stomach, but Wintergreen stopped him, gripping his already pleasure-slick hips firmly in both hands.

“No, no. I want to see your face.”

The contrast between the Wade he had known at the wedding, on the phone, at the diner… vulgar, provocative, shameless, hypersexual… and this Wade beneath him now, utterly unable to hold back his moans anymore as Wintergreen pushed into him inch by inch against a resistance that was almost ironic in its obviousness…

It was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

Wintergreen took a breath, trying not to think about how much pleasure it would give him to empty the warm condom over this little asshole’s stomach, to keep that big mouth shut for a few seconds longer while his cheeks burned even redder.

He tried to move more deeply, but despite all the preparation and generous lubrication, Wade tensed up too much with every movement to make it possible. Wintergreen probably could have ignored everything except his own desire and forced it… but hurting someone—really hurting them—had never been that much of a turn-on for him. So he settled for slow, broad movements instead, reassured in his pleasure nonetheless by the sight Wade was giving him right now.

Fuck. At that moment he looked so much like…

His hand tightened slightly around the young man’s cock, harder than ever now. He stroked it through his palm, and those few seconds of friction were enough to draw an even louder moan from him.

Wintergreen wanted more.

He slid a hand into Wade’s hair. Blond hair. He clenched it in his fist, just enough to make the young man’s brows arch.

“Come on, lad… Open your eyes. I need you to look at me.”

Wade managed to crack his eyes open, and it was exactly what Wintergreen needed. That shade of blue, so pale, almost crystalline, even if it was stained by the filth clinging to Wade’s soul. The fantasy was vivid enough, powerful enough, to leave him breathless.

Wintergreen lifted Wade’s legs higher, settling them over his own shoulders. His cock still didn’t slide easily enough inside him to truly go as deep as he wanted, but… he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“This is going to hurt a little, okay?” he said in a slightly trembling voice.

He saw a flicker of fear darken the young man’s gaze and, without giving him the chance to protest, pushed fully into him, rougher than he had been until now. Wade let out a low groan, pressing his lips tightly together and squeezing his eyes shut from the shock of it. From there, Wintergreen kept thrusting into him relentlessly.

“Good boy. There… Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me…”

Wade struggled to look at him, completely shaken by the force of Wintergreen’s hips driving into him without restraint. Tears were beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes, adding a veil of softness and vulnerability over irises already far too blue.

“That’s it…”

Wintergreen wrapped his hand around the young man’s desperate cock again, and within minutes Wade’s stomach and chest were covered in his own release. All the while, Wintergreen kept rocking him, kept fucking him in the same almost frantic rhythm. Wade started moaning louder, pressing both palms weakly against Wintergreen’s chest, offering only the faintest resistance. He wasn’t truly protesting—he was simply inexperienced and overwhelmed.

“Ah… Wintergreen… stop, it’s too much…”

Wintergreen almost wanted to kiss his forehead, if he didn’t also feel so much disgust and boredom toward him… Then there was the intoxicating satisfaction of having finally brought him to his knees.

“So where did he go, huh? The other Wade? The one who insults everyone, who thinks he’s better than everybody else, the brawler, the little shit-stirrer? Is that him moaning around my cock?”

At his words, Wade’s dick hardened slightly again while he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to escape the hold of Wintergreen’s gaze.

Eventually, the older man finished deep inside him, pinning the young man’s thighs high against his chest. He withdrew slowly before removing the condom.

Still trembling, Wade tried to sit up quickly and push himself to his feet all at once, probably to prove that none of this had ever been anything more than a game to him—but his legs gave out immediately and he collapsed back onto the bed.

Wintergreen sighed before helping him lie down properly, lifting his legs slightly to keep him from passing out.

“You shouldn’t get up so fast after something like that…” he explained while wiping away the semen that had already begun drying on the young man’s stomach with a handful of tissues.

Wade muttered the usual refrain.

“You think it was your tiny dick that got me into that state? Don’t flatter yourself… it had just been a long time, that’s all. That’s why I was like that.”

“Wade… don’t make me say out loud what we both already know. For what it’s worth, it’s not a big deal. I just would’ve preferred if you’d been honest from the start instead of pretending to be some kind of expert on gay sex or whatever.”

The young man’s cheeks turned tomato red again. He frowned and looked away, giving Wintergreen a light kick so he would let his legs drop back onto the bed.

Wintergreen stayed mostly quiet while he cleaned himself up and got dressed again. He listened to Wade complain, comment, act as unpleasant and disdainful as ever, and after what had just happened—after making him cry out and tremble beneath his weight—it no longer affected him very much. He simply punctuated the younger man’s monologue with a few remarks, sincere in a way Wade probably didn’t deserve, but which Wintergreen needed to say for his own conscience.

“Sorry I was so rough.”

“Try to eat something when you get home.”

“Thanks. I had a good time.”

Each time he said something like that, Wade would fall silent for a few seconds, searching for something unnecessarily hurtful to answer with. And often, when he couldn’t find anything, he would simply glare at the other man instead.

Then, as always with Wade, he eventually got tired. Tired of himself.

He moved a little closer to Wintergreen on the edge of the bed. They were both dressed now, ready to go their separate ways. Maybe they would never repeat the experience. It had been too intense.

“You know earlier, at the diner, when I said I would’ve liked having a sister? Well… I think actually I just would’ve liked having a different mother.”

Wintergreen almost flinched at that sudden burst of vulnerability. He turned his head toward Wade, noticing the way the young man was staring down at his own feet.

“Frannie seems pretty nice, but… I know you were raised in difficult circumstances. Do you think maybe she didn’t do enough to protect you from your father?” Wintergreen spoke based on the little information Slade had been willing to share about his childhood. He knew, more or less, that his father—and therefore Wade’s too—had been a complete piece of shit, and Slade had implied he abused them. As for Frannie, Wintergreen had formed a rather positive opinion of her.

Wade shook his head.

“You don’t get it! Yeah, our father was horrible, but Frannie’s a different kind of horrible! You’ve got no idea how disgusting it makes me feel when she makes comments about Slade’s body… Fuck, I look like him! It’s twisted, man, twisted… When I was a kid, sometimes I prayed she’d die like our father did, but I dunno, I still kinda hoped she’d get better. But nah.”

If Wintergreen hadn’t already been uncomfortable, he certainly was now… Wade sniffed and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie like a child would. Wintergreen felt as touched as he was revolted. He tried to drape a comforting arm over the young man’s shoulders, but Wade immediately shoved him away as he finally stood up for real.

Surprisingly, though, he didn’t insult him. Wade sniffed a few more times, now standing several feet away with his back turned to Wintergreen. When he finally turned around again, his face had recovered its usual ferocity, that almost constant animation that made it look like a Japanese theater mask.

“Well, that was really good. Hope you manage to fuck my brother someday—it seems to be eating you alive, old man. Alright, peace.”

With that, he left the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

Wintergreen waited a while before leaving the motel himself. He didn’t want to run into Wade in the parking lot. He wanted to forget all of it for a little while, now that he had found in the young man’s familiar body the satisfaction he might never be able to find in Slade’s.

The next day, Slade came by to have coffee with him and talk about this and that: going back to work, returning to the army, the possibility that Addie might already be pregnant, and the baby names they had been considering. Faced with this avalanche of reminders that Slade was building a life with someone else, Wintergreen didn’t feel as crushed as he had feared he would. He prepared the coffee, nodding along.

Before leaving, Slade gave him a friendly slap on the back, wearing a crooked smile.

“C'mon you know you can't hide anything from me, right? So... Who's your new girlfriend?"

sladebilly-inc

Forgot to post it on my side blog FIRST 😭

#slade wilson #william randolph wintergreen #wade lafarge #winterwade