Alternate Universe, slash (but not anything really serious). Uh, before you start you should know that I love breaking the forth wall, introducing cameo characters, and general crack.
Characters not mine, they're owned by marvel. Most of them are older in canon than they are in this fic, and here they go by their names, rather than code-names.
Wade Wilson hated high school. He used to think it could be a place for hot chicks, but after being suspended for running through the girl's locker room when he was late for gym class, he was less inclined to feel he had the freedom. Plus, ever since then all the girls thought he was a perv. Okay, so maybe they were right, but Wade felt he only had eyes for Bea Arthur. His friend Weasel always liked to hear of the locker room story in detail. And the girls called Wade a perv.
This particular day was no different. There were the goth chicks, behind the drama room, smoking. He hated those girls. All whine and no time for lovin'. He walked past the field as their gym teachers, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Thor, yelled at the jocks to keep running. Wade didn't mind sports, but after he came to a soccer game dressed as a cheerleader that crowd had hated him too. He walked up the steps to the school, his grotesque skin stared at by freshmen and laughed at by the preps, who had been antagonizing him after he had beaten up Summers and stolen the guy's shades. Served him right anyway.
In short, Weasel was his only friend (other than the kind lady he kept locked in the forgotten Janitorial closet on the second floor). He came to homeroom at last, thinking that maybe he and people just didn't get along. After all, if they can't recognize a Ferris Bueller reference right away, then perhaps they're just not worth talking to. Problem was, Weasel was a junior and he was a senior, so they had no classes together. So that meant a whole morning with the usual jerks. He sat down at his desk and started carving "DP 3BA" into it.
"You know that new Canadian transfer student?"
That was Jean Gray. For years she had been decent to him until he had stolen her cheerleading outfit. Surprisingly, Wade thought, she hadn't died yet.
And that was Warren Worthington III, the rich kid. Wade wasn't entirely sure why he didn't go to some fancy shmancy private school, or why he wore a coat that came from an old detective movie.
"Yeah," said Jean.
"What about him?"
That second person was Jean's boyfriend Scott Summers, mentioned previously. Wade had suspicions that he fantasized about that other cheerleader, Emma.
"Is it just me, or does he seem kind of…"
It took them that long? Sheesh, Northstar's gay in almost every single continuity, unlike a certain Peter Rasputin.
Speaking of Russians… there he was, talking to Kurt Wagner by the window. Wade always thought the way Kurt always held his fingers split was a little odd. Most of the character introductions done, let's get to the important stuff.
Mr. Xavier, their English teacher, rolled in on his wheelchair, followed by a boy Wade didn't know.
The boy had a strange glowy eye thing going on and a criss-cross scar on the other eye. His brown hair had silver in it, which was odd. Hey new kid, Wade thought, Rogue called, she wants her hairstyle back.
"Settle down, students," said Xavier, "I'd like to introduce you to a new student. This is Nathan Dayspring."
Apparently the author didn't feel like making everybody call him by his full name, thought Wade. The kid (by rights he was the same age as Wade) looked around the classroom, his stare a little too intense for some people. Jean Grey frowned, and Xavier's eyes flickered to Nathan.
"You can call me Nate," said the new kid smoothly.
"I'll just take the attendance and then you can head to your next class," said Mr. Xavier, and turning to Nate he said, "Here's your schedule. Your first class is here with me."
Huh, thought Wade, same class as him. Kinda convenient. Wade pushed that thought out of his head and instead wondered mildly why no one had commented on the glowy eye. Maybe the whole school was full of freaks, so perhaps the glowy-eye thing was just… Hold on, somebody was talking.
"What? Did somebody say Bea/Tolkien? I hate that pairing!"
"No, I said is this seat taken?"
It was the new kid,
Nate, eyeing him oddly and gesturing to the seat beside
"Nope, sit away," said Wade, trying to keep his mind from the glowy eye.
"What are you called?"
Yep, new kid definitely staring.
"Oh, you mean my name? Wade Wilson. No relation to Slade Wilson, honest."
"Nice to meet you," said Nate, though he didn't sound too sure, holding out a hand.
Wade hesitated, and then shook it. For some odd reasons the touch sent shivers up his spine.
"So, uh, do you like spatulas? Or how about the Olsen twins?"
To his surprise, Nate smiled and said, "Not very good at small talk are you?"
"I'm fine at small talk!" said Wade indignantly while thinking that perhaps another friend couldn't hurt.