Work Text:
“Who would want to destroy this guy’s taco truck? Stay tuned to find out the gory details after these short messages,” the radio host says.
You turn to find Wade (maskless) cleaning his katana’s while waiting for the microwave to ding so he can eat his chimichangas. “What the fuck, Wade?!” You smack his shoulder.
He turns, staring at you with an offended expression. “What? What did I do?”
“That was some innocent guy’s taco truck!”
“And?” He asks with a bored look.
“You destroyed a taco truck.”
“Yeah, pretty easily actually.”
You blink owlishly, smacking his shoulder again. “You uncultured slut!”
“What! Am I missing something? And stop hitting me,” he catches your hand, pushing it away from him.
You purse your lips, crossing your arms, “it’s Tuesday fuckwad.”
You’ve never seen him turn his head so fast, in the past four years you’ve known him.
“Oh no!” Wade looks back at the microwave as it beeps. “Does this mean the chimichangas are cursed?” He grabs a plate (it took him a solid three and a half years of you throwing plates out the window before he learned to use one whenever he ate. The man used to just grab them right out of the microwave and start chowing down but then he made crumb trails and was forced to vacuum… after his tongue was all better, he’s not the most patient person when it comes to food).
“Why would the chimichangas be cursed?” You ask.
“I blew up a taco truck, but it was his fault.”
“I’m afraid to ask why.”
“Never be afraid to ask the wise and sexy burnt avocado questions, my darling little sea puppet.” He gestures to the food on his plate, “the guy didn’t have these bad boys on the menu.”
“Did you even look or bother to ask the guy before you lost your fucking mind?”
Wade pauses midbite, “what would you do if I said no?” He asks with a mouth full of food.
“Dammit Wade! Are you serious?”
“Taco trucks, am I right?”
“You better start running.”
“Oooo, where? The bedroom? Is daddy gonna spank me?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You’re a sick, sick man.”
“I know, it keeps me up at night. This was a good talk. I’ll pay you next session.”
“Where are you going?”
“The tin man extra-large and his sidekick teenage snotty mouth need my help. Finally, they came to their senses, right?”
“No, not right. Not right at all.”
“I’m leaving with or without you.”
“Without me.”
Wade pouts, although it’s hard to tell since he put his mask back on. “But you know I can’t cross the street without someone watching out for me.”
“You’re a grown ass man, Wade.”
“I know I’ve got a great ass, no need to point it out. I like yours too, it’s nothing like mine but wow. Yours can cause traffic. I mean seriously. So jealous.”
You sigh, “let’s go crackhead.”
“No, that’s my neighbor.”
“I’m pretty sure, you have no neighbors.”
“Well, that’s just a rude thing to assume.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No.”