Archive of Our Own

The impossible was always possible for them. In goodness, such as saving the world, and in badness, like getting sucked into the desert void in the first place. So, when Logan decided to stay in Wade’s world and a concern of his was ruled to be completely impossible, he should have known that it was very fucking possible.

It all started after they moved into their own apartment. Specifically, a month after. The two of them worked mercenary jobs together like clockwork. They were a team. Inseparable. But then, Logan began experiencing symptoms. To what? He didn’t know. But he knew he didn’t like it. Stomach cramps were all of a sudden a common occurrence; he’d drink them away. But, no amount of whiskey or rubbing alcohol could chase away the knowledge in the back of Logan’s mind; before moving to this universe, he could count how many times he had stomach pain, in general, on one hand.

The other new symptom was a heightened sense of smell.

Now, his olfactory senses were already at a higher level than the average person, however, each and every person that he met now had a distinct smell to them. Which, one could dismiss, like, yeah, people wear deodorant or perfume or don’t shower. However, the level of specificity of the way people smelled was too high to be ignored. For instance, Yukio. When she came over with a housewarming gift — lofthouse cookies, because of course — she smelled like the pink and blue cotton candy one gets at a state fair, but specifically the place next to the funnel cake truck. When Vanessa came over one afternoon and told Wade straight out that she needed a hard break — right in front of Logan too — she smelled like fresh rain falling on ferns in a forest, it was earthy and organic, about as organic as the middle finger she gave Wade as she was walking out the door while he was begging for another chance. Then, when Peter came over to help with the aftermath of this, he smelled like a freshly opened notepad, new pens, and a cheap cardboard clipboard, very boring, but still specific.

The smell thing was almost interesting to Logan, but the stomach pain could fuck right off. He hated that it incapacitated him, that he couldn’t join Wade on all of the missions anymore, and it wasn’t like the cramps could be predicted so he’d always have to say he couldn’t go at the last second. Logan tried to power through it on a few missions, but he couldn’t fully focus on the fight, or the win, or the civilians, and it just ended up a mess. So, he knew better than to go on nights when he didn’t feel up to par. But then, after a few weeks, the stomach pain went away, and he was feeling fine consistently. Whatever it was, it seemed to have gone away and the two of them were off to save the world from petty crimes again.

For about a month.

—

Coherence and consciousness led to the feeling of clamminess. Sweat pooled under him in a puddle, as if he was bleeding out clear. Beads formed at his forehead. His hair, shower–drenched in the salt water, it stuck to his neck, his face, and his hand when he shakily carded through it. Sitting up granted something to escape him, he could tell it wasn’t the consistency of what normally leaves there, but it was concerning nonetheless. Logan’s legs wobbled like wet noodles as he stumbled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. A disgusted groan entered the air as he stripped from his soaked clothes followed by a heavy sigh of relief that echoed against the tile as he stepped under the cold spray of the shower. Soon, he was sitting, unable to trust the rickety support from his own legs. Head in hands, his thoughts ran down the drain like the water running over him; unable to come to anything cohesive. Time melted. The water got colder. He felt weaker. Curled in the fetal position, Logan heard the squeak of the front door and hoped that his friend wouldn’t judge him. He knew Wade would inevitably find him like this, for he had no energy to move. All he could do was hope that Wade knew what was going on, because he sure as hell didn’t.

“Oh, Marvel Jesus, it smells perfect in here! What the hell are you making, honey badger?”

Of all the sounds he could hear loud and clear, he had to be able to hear Wade’s voice, right? Logan tried to scoff, but not enough air left his mouth. Any more effort on his part would’ve resulted in a whine.

“Well, there’s nothing in the oven…. Hmmmm. Is that a new shampoo?”

Footsteps echoed and then stopped outside the door.

“Man, Tresemme’s really stepped up their game in the scent department, huh?”

There was an attempt to voice something. To make words. To say something that would make Wade think he was fine. However the noise that left Logan’s lips was the most pitiful sound he ever made in his life.

The door burst open and Wade’s panicked voice took front and center as Logan listened, waiting for any inkling that Wade knew what was going on.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened? Did you fall – wait, that doesn’t make sense.” The ice cold spray stopped with Wade turning the knob, but cool porcelain and frigid air caused shivers to wrack his body. Wade left and shortly returned with multiple towels, his nose twitching as he entered the room.

“That’s you. That smell is you.”

Soft cotton draped over him, and a steady hand rested on his forehead for a short moment.

“Somebody call Ripley, cause he wouldn’t believe it.”

Logan attempted to growl, and failed. Miserably.

“You’re in heat, buddy.”

—

Wrapped in towels like a wet dog, Logan sat perched on the couch on top of a pile of folded towels. Getting him out here was a struggle in of itself — Wade supporting Logan from the side and partially carrying, partially dragging him. If he were less exhausted, he’d feel embarrassed; then again, he would never normally feel this drained. Wade was now sitting in front of him, straddling one of their kitchen chairs, one hand and arm dangling over the back while the other rested on it to support his chin. It was jarring how lax he was acting towards this, but at the same time, this was just classic Wade.

“This is clearing up a lot of shit for me. It’s probably a mind-fuck for you. But I’m kinda happy this is happening. I thought I was officially losing my last marble.”

All Logan had the energy to do was blink in quick succession to process this – the idea of Wade being affected – and say a near breathless, “What?”

“Yeah, I just thought there was someone in the building having a Nat Geo Wild preheat, enough to where I could smell it. It made my instincts go haywire, which was crazy to me because I only date betas.”

Wade shifted in his seat, his posture scrunched and cool, calm, sort of collected Wade, went out the window.

“I only date betas because the odds of a true mate match between an alpha and a beta is basically zero. Despite that, I fell head over heels for one anyway and then she found her true beta, so that went down the shitter……. Real reason why I date betas is that I just can’t imagine being true-mated to someone who I have to watch die because I’m an immortal motherfucker.”

Wade shook his head, physically trying to put himself back on track.

“Anyway, it’s you, yellow jacket. You are that amazing smell that was driving me fucking nuts, and is still driving me fucking nuts because I can’t think for shit. My instincts are just screaming at me.”

A loud groan came from Wade as he reached up to rub his temples. “They’re just yelling. They want me to be around you, comfort you, hold you, help you, feed you, even fu —”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Wade nearly leapt from his seat. Logan scowled, which projected as more of a pout, feeling as though Wade would take any excuse to get away from him. But, Wade soon returned, holding a box. He set it on the counter and used a kitchen knife to open it — a noise of shock, confusion, and maybe defeat leaving him as he took in the contents.

“Maybe my instincts took over more than I thought they did, my dear honey badger,” Wade walked over to him, sitting in the chair and shaking the box in frustration. “Because this is a box of things that you need, that you didn’t even know you needed, that I purchased, and —” the box hit the ground with a soft thud as Wade tossed it. “ — don’t fucking remember doing.”

Logan’s eyes trailed down to the box, taking in the sight of assorted bottles, a bag, and a few smaller boxes within. He wondered what all of the contents meant, but assumed he would find out soon. For now, sitting nearly naked on a couch was starting to get to him. Chills ran down his spine as spikes of pain radiated in his abdomen. “I’m sorry,” Logan grumbled, his hands moving to clutch at his stomach, but similar pain began to echo behind his skull. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, he felt dizzy, he could hear Wade yelling – clearly worried – but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Logan collided with something soft.

Then, everything was quiet.

—

Logan didn’t know how much time passed when he finally woke up, all he knew was that he was wearing boxers now, there was something inside the boxers – some kind of foam pad – and that this was the most coherent he felt this entire time.

“Enjoy your catnap, kitty?”

Wade was on the opposite side of Logan’s bedroom, sitting criss-cross in the same kitchen chair from earlier, wearing a unicorn onesie while reading a book that was currently being held upside down.

“You’re due for another anti–cramp pill if you want it, sweetums. I know you don’t remember taking your first one.”

Logan nodded in response to both statements and watched fondly as Wade unfolded his legs to stand and fetch him what he needed. Wade didn’t even have to leave the room. Turns out he brought the delivered package in here, giving him, and now Logan easy access to what was in there if need be. Wade steadily dumped out a single pill into his hand and grabbed a glass of water.

“Can you sit up for me, baby doll?”

“Don’t call me that,” Logan grumbled as he sat up, relishing in the feeling of being able to without pain. There was an attempt by Wade to put the pill in Logan’s mouth, which resulted in claws unsheathing, only to retract a short moment later when Wade laughed and backed off a little, handing him the pill and glass.

The mattress dipped after Logan finished the glass, Wade perched on the edge of the mattress, allowing them to talk face-to-face.

“What happened after I, you know?”

“When your brain went night night?”

“Yeah.”

Wade shrugged, “first thing I did was get you dressed, then I gave you a few pills — not fun pills — and carried you in here. It’s doable; but you are not light, you beautiful golden grizzly bear.” Suddenly, two of Wade’s fingers reached forward and booped Logan on the nose, an action that would award claws through the wrist in any other circumstance. Instead, Logan just wrinkled his nose and growled lightly. “I don’t know why I did that,” Wade chuckled. “Oh, before you bite my fingers off. I ordered in burritos from that place you like —”

“You mean the place you like.”

“Exactly, so the place we like…. If you’re hungry.”

—

Logan was finishing off the tail end of his burrito when he heard Wade mumble something under his breath. “What?” Logan asked, mouth full.

“I said, I’m sorry for trauma-dumping on you earlier.”

“Oh. It’s alright.”

Wade shook his head, “Nah, honey badger, we should’ve been trying to figure out how the fuck this happened.”

“I wasn’t able to do much thinking, let alone figuring,” Logan huffed and rolled his eyes. “Maybe there’s something in the water. I don’t know. The TVA said this was impossible, so of course it fucking happened.”

Wade snorted, “I guess we’re lucky the TVA gave you an introduction on how this universe works.”

“Not enough of one to where I saw it in my damn self.”

“Well, what the fuck do they know? They’re the TVA,” Wade smiled softly. “Want another burrito, big guy?”

“Yeah. A steak one this time.”

—

A few hours had passed since the last burrito — Logan had four in total. Apparently, being in heat turned him into an insatiable slut for food. Understandable. Wade was almost impressed. Those burritos were nothing to sneeze at, in terms of size. He was glad he bought as many as he did, and Wade took this as a sign to prepare to buy a lot of whatever craving happened to strike, and ignored the voice in the back of his head that was very satisfied with how good of an alpha he was.

Since the burritos, Wade had explained to Logan everything he should expect in the coming days that he didn’t know about, what the hell blockers were, that, yes, the pads Wade put under the fitted bed sheet were a good idea and not a sneaky way to insult him — the poor guy was surprisingly sensitive about this stuff, although it was justifiable — and explained through the bathroom door, for privacy reasons, how to discard of and replace a slick pad.

A pit took root in Wade’s stomach as his instincts preened over how he was acting. He never wanted to be this. Fill this role. But he was sliding into it so perfectly. Enough to scare him, make his heart rate raise; especially since Logan was currently using his chest as a pillow. Solid arms wrapped around him and rumbling, yet gentle snores reverberated up and into Wade’s ears. The TV was on mute – made that way the second Wade knew Logan was asleep.

Logan didn’t have a TV set up in here, and neither wanted to make the assisted trek to the living room, so Wade took the one from his bedroom and got it hooked up.

Through aimless surfing, they ended up on a channel that showed nothing but videos of baby animals and unlikely older animals being friends — not Wade’s typical form of entertainment, but he was nothing if not flexible; besides, subtitles were a thing, so not having the sound wasn’t a big deal. Shortly before Logan succumbed to sleep, he mentioned wanting to get another pet, someone for Mary Puppins to be friends with, so she wasn’t alone when they went out on jobs. Wade wondered where this came from, and didn’t know whether to agree or not. For now, he just let Logan sleep on his chest and Mary Puppins curl into a ball by his feet.

Life was good.

—

Wade doesn’t know when he falls asleep, and frankly, doesn’t even realize that he does – not until he wakes, at least. When he does wake up, the first signs of morning flow through the window and reflect on the ceiling. A navy blue sky, wispy clouds, a barely there, nearly teasing sun, one that was just thinking about rising. Speaking of things that were rising, another was the pitch of Logan’s groans against Wade’s neck as the man rutted up against his thigh. A quick glance was enough for Wade to see Logan’s shut eyes and for him to internally scold himself (a.k.a not-so-little-Wade) because Logan was just having a damn wet dream here and he shouldn’t read anything into this until it’s read out to him. Near whimpers traveled up into Wade’s ear, and of course, the second he went to look at Logan, Logan froze, his eyes squeezing for a moment before his hips rolled forward a few short times.

The room grew still, the only movement coming from the ceiling fan, and the only sound coming from there as well. Wade was afraid to breathe, let alone move or say something to provoke the poor guy into waking up and discovering this. As it went, Wade might’ve been a glutton for punishment, but ‘claws-though-the-face,’ was something he only needed to experience a few times to know that he hated it and never wanted to know what it felt like again.

It wasn’t until a growly Logan backed his hips away and audibly grimaced that Wade dared to say anything.

“Your little-wolvie is night-creaming like puberty again, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Wade chuckled. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I know it’s not little.”

“Dammit, Wade!”

Any attempt on Logan’s part to sound tough dissipated within seconds. As soon as he sat up, a disgusted – embarrassingly high pitched – whine left his mouth. There was too much moisture, enough to where he didn’t want to move and feel it all move with him. He felt so gross. His eyebrows knitted as he stared down at himself, unsure of how to execute what he knew he had to do.

“I’ll go grab some clothes for ya, and set up the bathroom, huh?”

“Yeah,” Logan’s gaze traveled with Wade as he moved away. “For what?”

“You’ll see, pumpkin.”

—

Warmth surrounded Logan entirely as he sunk down further into the far-too-full bathtub. His senses only took in a few things as he relaxed. Soft bubbles. Lemon scented bath salts. A waterproof heart-shaped cushion resting behind him. A tall vanilla candle burning on the counter, its wick flickering back and forth, mirroring his thoughts – he should be mad about being this spoiled and pampered, being given Wade’s own personal self-care routine, but he couldn’t deny that this felt more than good.

With the assistance of one of those anti–cramp pills, the ache in Logan’s abdomen disappeared, and as the water slowly drained and the bubbles dissipated, the uneasiness brought on by earlier messes vanished with the water. Logan’s eyes opened lazily at the familiar squeak of the door; Wade flowed through the room, turning the knob till steam appeared, restarting the bath without being asked — bubbles and salts included. Logan wondered if Wade started the bath over for himself, or if he let the finicky drain decide when it was over? Wade seemed to know exactly when to replenish the water and — oh, Wade was talking to him.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“I said, nothing but hot water for my hottie.”

There was that smile, the one that was too sincere to be a smirk but was still crooked, a checkmark on his face, a damn near trademark. If Logan wasn’t naked, he’d feel a little hot under the collar. Maybe it was the steam, the water, the fucking candle. Something had to be at fault here, he needed to blame something for him feeling so warm with heat in his cheeks.

Wait.

Heat.

Right.

He got so distracted by Wade’s effortless charm that he forgot what was even happening. Logan’s hand went to his face as he sighed. The water shut off, and then Wade sat on the edge of the tub.

“You okay, Logi-Bear? Headache?”

God, his voice was too gentle for Logan to not find it attractive. Wade was being so caring and proving himself more and more capable by the second. Of what, Logan wasn’t sure, but he almost didn’t care at this point. He lied to Wade, nodding. The only thing that really ached his head was embarrassment.

“You’re probably dehydrated, or hungry. Probably both, honey bun.”

Yeah, Logan was hungry, but for now, he settled for a glass of water and sunk back down into the warmth of the tub, waiting for the water to disappear again.

—

Over an hour later, Logan found himself sitting on the couch in the clothes Wade provided him with – boxers, loose sweatpants and a somehow equally loose black t-shirt – watching the tail end of some musical rom-com that Wade had been enthused with. Logan waited patiently, but, as if on queue, the second the credits began to roll, Wade muted the TV and whipped out his phone.

“Alrighty, sweetums. I have my notes app open right now. What do you want to eat?”

“Onion rings.”

Wade quirked an eyebrow, well, the area his eyebrow would be. “That’s it?”

“No.”

—

“Oh, this is gonna be the weirdest doordash order I’ve ever placed,” Wade remarked as Logan finished his list. Apparently, and this was news to Wade, heat cravings were a thing. Logically, it made sense, but it didn’t make it any less surprising. Anything Logan asked for, Wade was tempted to double the amount, due to the previous day’s burrito situation. But, today’s theme seemed to rely more on food variety than a solid amount of one thing.

“Okay, let’s review, class. The order is: onion rings, mozzarella sticks, chips and salsa, basically anything you can get as an appetizer at Applebee’s, minus the apple or the bees?”

Logan hesitated for a moment before replying with a short nod, “Yes, but I also want chicken.”

“Chicken what?”

“What do you mean ‘chicken, what’?”

Wade sighed, “My dear hangry honey badger, I mean like, chicken fingers, chicken teriyaki, fried, blackened, Cajun, Dino Nuggies. Chicken, what?” Wade smiled, amused over the possibility of Logan wanting dinosaur nuggets. He’d do it up too, make Kraft macaroni to go with it, and serve them with chocolate milk.

“Rotisserie.”

Well, there went that idea.

“See, was that so hard? What flavor now?”

Logan rolled his eyes affectionately. “Lemon-pepper.”

Wade nodded curtly. “Anything else, pookie?”

Turned out yes, there was another thing that Logan wanted, and it also didn't pair with anything listed.

“Peanut butter ice cream. Just get a gallon of it, please?”

“Frozen sticky nut juice. Got it.”

“Don’t. Don’t call it that,” Logan stated through a grimace.

Wade took his time pressing buttons and finalizing the order before placing a humongous tip for the driver in advance.

“Now that’s officially the weirdest order I’ve ever placed.”

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’ll say that tomorrow too.”

“Yeah, probably,” Wade smiled that million dollar grin and booped Logan on the nose once more, making him flutter his eyes instead of flinch.

—

A half hour passed without the food arriving, it was still twenty minutes out at least, but that didn’t matter. In this moment, all that mattered to Logan was the TV – he thought reruns of Wipeout were interesting, sue him – the warmth of the body below him, and the hand carding steadily in his hair. Logan was lying down in the V of Wade’s legs, his feet dangling over the armrest of the couch as his head rested on Wade’s chest, treating it like a pillow.

“You’re my little cuddle-bear, you know that?”

Wade’s fingers deftly scratched behind his ear, leading Logan to lean into the touch and fight the urge to groan. He failed. Miserably.

“Eating this up, aren’t you, Wolvums?” Logan could hear the pride in Wade’s voice; he couldn’t decide if it was sourced in affection or smugness. Knowing Wade, it was probably both. “Gave you the soothepool spa treatment and now you can’t get enough of me.”

Another far-too-breathy groan escaped Logan’s lips as Wade’s scarred fingers and blunt nails scratched his scalp and carded through his hair behind both ears. Logan’s eyebrows knitted together as his eyes shut. He nearly whimpered as Wade continued his ministrations and his cheeks turned bright red as Wade began to speak.

“I was right when I called you a preening slut. Look at you. My poor touch-starved Wolvie.”

Logan tipped his head back, forcing Wade to run his fingers through different spots, and to get an eyeful of Logan’s bright red face.

“You’re gorgeous, peanut. You know that?”

A whimper entered the air, and Logan scooched down, non-verbally telling Wade to stop. Surprisingly, he obeyed.

“You okay? Too much?”

Logan nodded and opened his eyes before resuming watching the TV. His head rested on Wade’s stomach and he was internally cursing himself for backing away. Why was he like this? Why did he back away from good things whenever he had them?

“Food will be here in ten.”

Logan sighed, the beginnings of a tension headache creeping behind his eyes. “Thank you.”

A steady hand rested on and rubbed his hair lightly, gently, non-threateningly, and, unintentionally, coaxed Logan back up to where he was before. However, this time, once Logan was settled, Wade’s hands remained at his side and the two calmly watched the television, chuckling when the people fell off the obstacles and critiquing the contestants as they went on the courses.

It was simple.

They both loved it.

—

“You have to let me go, honey bun.”

A feather-like chuckle entered the air as Wade struggled. Logan’s arms were wrapped around him, one arm under and the other over, enclosing Wade in his embrace, while also using his stomach as a cushion. Thirty seconds earlier, the first few notes to the Pokémon theme blasted from Wade’s phone, alerting them to the food being at their doorstep. However, when Wade tried to pull away to stand, it did not work. Gingerly, he pawed at Logan’s wrist, earning a grumble that vibrated against his skin, even through his hoodie — he had to change, the unicorn onesie was very warm. As Wade continued to try to coax his way off the sofa, Logan’s knuckles started to rub against the cloth of the couch, conjoined with his claws poking out slightly and withdrawing.

“Are you kneading, kitten?”

Wade almost gushed this, and Logan growled.

“As cute as this is, cuddle bear. You have to let me get up so I can get the food before someone steals it, okay?”

“I’ll kill them.”

“That won’t reimburse me.”

Logan rumbled unintelligibly and lifted his arm, letting Wade go while muttering a simple “fine.”

Wade rushed, the door slamming behind him as he carried the food in – enough bags to look like he was coming back from the grocery store. Logan was now sitting straight up on the couch, eyes wide as he watched Wade speed walk over with the bags and set them down. The first thing Wade did was find the ice cream and put it in the freezer, then he took the styrofoam containers out of the bags, verbally running through a list as he went along.

“...... That would be the mozzarella sticks, there’s the chili fries, the onion rings — man you really stuck with comfort food here, didn’t you, pookie? Ah-ha, there’s the chicken – hey!”

The chicken, package and all, was ripped from Wade’s grasp. Speaking of ripping, Logan was tearing into the chicken with his bare hands – no claws – shoveling strands and chunks into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a month and was on the brink of death.

“Woah, woah, Wolvie. It’s not gonna run away,” reaching out was a mistake, at least physically. All chewing and tearing halted as Logan held the box that the chicken came in close to his body and growled, the sound coming from deep within his throat. Wade retracted his hand, getting the growling to stop, but sat down on the couch, leaving a cushion’s space between them. “I’m not going to take it from you. No one is. Slow down. You’ll hurt your tummy.”

With a sigh and a huff, Logan seemed to regain control. To put it simply: Wade wasn’t an idiot. At least when it came to matters like this. He’d been around the block enough to know certain signs of someone losing instinct control. Logan might as well have been a blinking stop sign. Something was going to have to give here. How soon? Wade didn’t know. He, himself, was having trouble focusing now, as Logan had followed directions and started to eat slower, taking time to chew, to savor, and even grab different items here and there — the cheese fries seemed to be a definite hit, and Wade would have to agree with him on that.

The two scooched closer together unconsciously as they ate, reaching forward for chips or an onion ring or any other item offered the perfect excuse to do so right on a styrofoam platter. Eventually, they were shoulder to shoulder, mindlessly watching whatever autoplay decided they should watch. Wade tapped out with eating first, he had to, he just couldn’t eat anymore. For now, he was happy to be able to watch Logan eat as another form of entertainment and try desperately not to think too deeply about how happy providing for Logan made him feel.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

The side eye was bombastic, and the slight smirk playing on the corner of Logan’s mouth? Priceless.

“I wish I could, peanut.”

Getting caught staring never felt so good.

“Thank you, Wade.”

It was quiet, and there was a lull before this, but Wade ran with it.

“You’re welcome, honey badger.”

Being genuinely appreciated felt better.

—

Logan’s eating had slowed down over the course of the next hour, ending at a halt with another twenty minutes passing. After he was done, an attempt to satisfy urges went a little awry. This urge being, the one to be held. Logan curled in on himself, raising his feet to rest on the edge of the couch cushions. His arms wrapped around his knees and he pillowed his cheek on them, facing away from Wade.

“You okay, big guy?”

Logan mustered a grumble in reply, one that was more high-pitched than he would ever truly admit to.

“Look, I know you’re the ‘strong, silent’ type. But this is a whole new level of non-verbal, even for you.”

Dread settled deep in Logan’s gut at this remark. Granted, Wade was joking, but the tone of humor was covering concern. He felt the same way he did before Wade found him in that bar. Like a burden. Here he was, once again, screwing up someone else’s life. It didn’t matter that he saved this world, if he was ruining it now. Logan wanted to apologize, but he didn’t even have the energy to do that. All Logan could do was turn his face and rest his other cheek on his knees so he could face Wade. However, as soon as this was done, Logan watched, shocked, as a mixture of concern and fear coated Wade’s gaze.

“My god, tootsie-pop; you look like you’re gonna cry.”

“Hold on, I know how to fix this,” Wade stood, his voice filled with determination, unwavering, even as he walked away and into the bathroom. Logan’s eyes followed Wade and stayed hooked on him. The door was open, so Logan could see everything Wade was doing. Internally, he scolded himself for staring, but at the same time, Logan held interest in the actions Wade was taking. Wade was holding a bottle, his hand covering the label as he liberally swiped the roller-ball at the end of the bottle on the sides of his neck. Logan raised an eyebrow, curious as to what this was and why Wade was doing this. However, just as fast as he began, it was over. Wade twisted the cap onto the bottle and rehoused it back in the vanity cabinet before exiting the bathroom, a smile dancing on his lips as he strided over to Logan. The couch dipped next to him as Wade sat, arms outstretched.

“Koala me, baby.”

Slowly, Logan obeyed, mostly. Giving into urges and choosing not to question or deny himself affection was a rather new concept, and a hard one to follow. Logan’s arms were wrapped around Wade, but he refrained from climbing into Wade’s lap like he wanted to do. To Logan, Wade was doing so well with taking care of such a screw up; the last thing he needed to do was push himself onto him. Logan eased into this, starting with a hug and slowly advancing to full cuddle. He noticed that Wade didn’t touch him until he was settled, something that made his heart ache and mind burn enough to where he felt the need to bury his face into the crook of Wade’s shoulder. With this, he soon began to nose along Wade’s neck, inhaling an inoffensive lemon scent, similar to pine sol. It wasn’t organic, but Logan didn’t mind. It lacked the chemical smell of the cleaner, but considering the application method, Logan wondered when they made Icy Hot smell like lemons, whoever ‘they’ were.

“They didn’t, sunshine.”

Oh, maybe he thought that a little too loudly.

“Then what is it?” He grumbled softly, right into Wade’s ear.

“It’s a scent-blocker. It blocks, well, I think you get the idea.”

Based on his crash course from earlier, yeah, he got the idea of why people would want to block their scents. But he was also told, by Wade, that this was typically done to hide heat or rut from others in public. For a split second, Logan panicked, thinking that maybe he set Wade off into rut somehow, before remembering the other reason.

Some people were just really insecure about their scents, or knew that they smelled bad, and wanted to hide it.

Despite thinking that he knew the answer here, Logan felt compelled to ask “Why,” anyway.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you wear this stuff?” He nuzzled against Wade’s scent gland, unconsciously trying to unearth the real scent within; an action that unknown to Logan, brought color to Wade’s face and made him have to bite back a groan.

“Uhhhhhhh, look! I never took out the nachos!”

It was sudden, but Wade pushed Logan away slightly. Enough to reach forward and grab an unopened box from earlier. A brief sprout of anger bloomed in Logan’s chest over being pushed away from Wade’s grasp. Irrational? Yes. But enough to make his claws start to poke out, just the tips, enough for Wade to notice them but not enough to hurt him. Besides, Logan wanted answers, maybe intimidation would be the key.

It would not.

“Wade —”

There was now a nacho in Logan’s mouth. A very good nacho, but watching the look of smug victory on Wade’s face made it almost taste bitter. However, that soon faded.

His claws retracted.

As he chewed, Logan realized that maybe he was the one winning here. After all, there were probably countless people who would pay to be hand fed by Deadpool, and here he was, getting hand fed for free.

Hand fed.

Why did that make his stomach swirl?

“Wade —”

Was it an attempt to protest or ask a question? Logan didn’t remember the motive anymore, for there was another nacho in his mouth, and a thumb wiping cheese and sour cream from right under his bottom lip. He chewed the chip, relying on the crunch between his teeth to stay grounded as he watched Wade quickly lick what he wiped off away. It was efficient and not seductive at all, but Logan felt his cheeks heating up anyway.

“Here, have another,” Wade whispered as soon as Logan swallowed. The fact that he had one at the ready made Logan feel weak. He opened his mouth, nearly lightheaded as Wade gingerly rested another loaded chip on his tongue. Once again, crunch and flavor became grounding sources as he fought so many urges. Too many to count. Logan wanted to groan, purr, kiss Wade for making him feel like this and then punch him for the same reason. He was enjoying this. Far too much.

Based on Wade’s smirk, he seemed to be enjoying the view. If not the view, at least the idea of what he was doing to it.

“Wanna lady and the tramp the next one?”

Logan’s eyes widened and a surprised noise escaped from behind closed lips. Should they have been open, it would’ve been a squeak.

“You’re right, a mozzarella stick would be better for that,” one of Wade’s hands raised, two fingers resting under Logan’s chin once it reached its destination. Eye contact was forced now. Not that either of them minded. “Too bad they’re gone now,” Logan glanced to the left, a pang of guilt hitting before Wade brought him back.

“It’s okay. You were a good boy and ate them all.”

Good boy?

Oh, his cheeks were lobster red now.

Logan swallowed, roughly, studying Wade’s face as the cogs turned behind his eyes.

“You like that, don’t you?”

A soft whine escaped Logan’s lips, accompanied with a nod. He felt like he was floating. Being cared for was the first domino here. Discovery was the rest of the row, except for the final few. Logan could feel himself slipping, thoughts dissipating as a comforting haze took over his mind. He was pure puddy in Wade’s hands.

“Wow. Look at you,” Wade’s voice was soft, awe woven into his tone as he swooped the hand out from under Logan’s chin and cupped his cheek in one fluid motion. Logan melted into the touch, his eyes slipping shut as he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“What do you want?”

The question was sincere, but Logan didn’t have an answer except wanting Wade around him in any capacity he would allow. He simply leaned forward, putting them back in the same position before the nachos, the hand feeding and Wade praising him. The mere thought of everything that just happened made heat pool in Logan’s gut, something he wanted to push down, but neediness took over, a whine escaping him as he nosed along Wade’s neck.

“Has anyone ever let you discover what you like? Or was it always about them?”

Logan doesn’t know where these questions come from, but he answers with a shake of the head and a nod. It was true, with partners in the past, he focused on them, did whatever they wanted. But that was all so distant, faded fuzzes of memory at best. As it stood, nobody wanted to be within five feet of him in the past fifteen years, let alone…

Intimacy, of any kind, was foreign. Let alone having someone willing to guide him through likes and dislikes. Hence why he was so cuddly and embracing this. He had an excuse to want to crave, desire.

“I can tell, honey bunches. You’re embarrassed to be turned on.”

How the hell could Wade tell? He was right, and that was mind-boggling enough. How could he —?

“I can smell it,” hands met Logan’s hair, carding through it softly. “It’s okay to want, Logan. It really is.”

The reassurance and sincerity packed in those words pushed the last dominos down. Except, instead of the passion he thought it would lead to, Logan was now sobbing into Wade’s neck.

“Oh no, baby,” one of Wade’s hands moved to Logan’s back, simply holding him as he cried. Logan tried to come up with an excuse, eternally embarrassed that this was happening. Hormones couldn’t take the whole brunt of responsibility here, though they did probably play a role. In truth, being treated with such care and kindness just broke him. Maybe this was all a long time coming. All Logan knew was that he couldn’t get close enough to Wade, no matter how hard he held him or how much Wade reciprocated, it wasn’t enough. Wade kept soothingly shushing Logan as he cried incessantly. It wasn’t pretty either, tears, snot, choking sobs. Logan was glad his face was buried in Wade’s neck. At least he wasn’t seeing what was happening. Maybe that was why Wade was encouraging him to continue, telling him that it “was okay,” and that he was “doing so well.” If he could see, oh, if he could see, the story would be different. Wade would finally recognize that Logan didn’t deserve any of this, his kindness, friendship, home, none of it. Once a screw up, always a screw up. Wade would finally see what Logan felt as true if —

“Hey, let me see you.”

No.

Logan squeezed Wade tighter, his tears coming stronger now. He didn’t want to lose this, lose Wade, lose what he doesn’t deserve.

“Careful, you’re gonna pop me open like a Pillsbury can.”

Logan reluctantly loosened his grasp, and Wade’s arms moved to Logan’s shoulders, pushing him forward enough to where eye contact could be made. Internally, Logan was screaming, it was the beginning of the end now, and he would know his fate as soon as…

Logan’s spiraling thoughts faded to a blur as Wade smiled at him. A gentle smile, conjoined with his thumb swooping underneath Logan’s eye to catch a stray tear.

“I’m not going anywhere, peanut.”

Internal responses of: “Why not?” and “I deserve you to,” reverberated in his mind. More tears lined his eyes, threatening to spill in response to his own thoughts. Logan’s eyes trailed down, searching to find a distraction worth focusing on. Luckily, he found one pretty quickly. Wade’s hoodie, navy blue and embroidered with yellow cupcakes with pink icing of all things, was incredibly soft. Up by Wade’s shoulder, the fabric was now black, saturated with Logan’s tears. Guilt rumbled in his stomach; he just ruined everything, didn’t he?

“You are allowed to cry. You know that right? It’s the 21st century.” Wade ended that set of verbalized thoughts on a higher note than when he started, and Logan nodded in reply, but just because he was technically allowed to, did not mean he wanted to, or wanted anyone to witness it. He hated that Wade was seeing him like this, but he couldn’t pull himself away either.

“Hey, listen,” Wade reached around himself and used a dry part of his hood to wipe some of the wetness off his neck before tossing the hood back and bringing his hand back to Logan’s shoulder. It was a smooth set of movements, and Logan watched intently as Wade did this, nearly entranced.

“You don’t have to hide from me. I’m fucked up too, and I’ve fucked up a lot, you know that,” It was true, Wade had told Logan many stories revolving around past regrets and failures to know that Wade and could relate, mostly. Wade’s story wasn’t the same as Logan's story. But then again, who would want the ability to perfectly commiserate with Logan? Especially about his downfall: leaving everyone he’d ever loved to die — family, friends, colleagues — still being haunted by the screams in the form of nightmares, enough to where he had to drink himself to death just to go to sleep because he can’t die. Still, Logan couldn’t deny that there was definite horror to Wade’s backstory. Lots of torture, fear, sickness, death, domestic violence, abuse of many kinds in his youth as well as later on — Wade’s friends let Logan in on those last two details; he didn’t ask, it was more of a forewarning — and general emotional upheaval. Hell, Logan watched Vanessa dump him just a couple weeks ago, and they were together for years. Wade wanted to marry her. He had to feel something towards that loss. The more Logan thought about it, the more he realized that it didn’t matter how many wars he’d been in, death he’d seen, or the torture he endured to become the damn Wolverine in the first place.

Wade had it worse.

“Whatever it is you’re feeling, honey badger, I’ve probably felt it before,” The hand on Logan’s shoulder traveled up to his hair, softly scratching, leading Logan to lean into the touch. “You can tell me what’s going on, Logan. I don’t care if it’s two words or a monologue that starts circa 1860, you can tell me.”

Logan felt guilty yet again, that his head was shoved up his ass so far it took being broken down to his bare components to realize that Wade was the one more deserving of sympathy, yet he was the one comforting him. Nausea swirled in Logan’s gut. He was sick. Sick of his own bullshit. Yet, here Wade was, willing to deal with it and more.

Because Wade cared about him.

Chagrin be damned, new, steaming hot tears escaped their confines and rolled down his cheeks at that realization.

“I’m sorry,” Logan choked out. He knew he never sounded more pitiful before and he hated it. Once again, Wade stepped up to the plate, wiping away tears and comforting Logan like his life depended on it.

“Why are you apologizing, Logan? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Yes there was, but verbalizing that was impossible, there was too much self-hate to unearth and unpack. It was a hassle not worth diving into, especially when all he could think about was wanting to give Wade this same treatment because he deserved it more, dammit! For now, all Logan did was lean further into Wade’s touch as he sobbed harder and thought one really loud thought:

Why do you care about me so damn much?

There was silence, except for Logan’s sniffling. Internally, he kept traveling down a spiral, but that didn’t stop him from noticing Wade shiver. They were so close. Almost too close, and oh — Wade’s eyes were glassy, a piercing gaze that was sympathetic but bordered on hurt.

A kicked puppy. He looked like a kicked puppy.

Logan’s heart sank. He finally figured out a way to make the Merc With A Mouth shut up:

Sob uncontrollably in front of him.

Slowly, Wade’s other hand moved up, making it so he was holding both sides of Logan’s face. To be honest, Logan appreciated the gesture, grateful that he wasn’t being shoved away, though he probably deserved it.

“Why? Why do I care about you? Where do I even start?”

Logan’s eyes widened and Wade nodded and smiled sympathetically.

“Yeah, you said that out loud, buddy.”

He wanted to run, flee, take off somewhere where he could be alone. However, Logan also couldn’t move. He was frozen to the spot. Logan’s heartbeat echoed in his head, adrenaline rushing through him out of shame towards admission. He felt like his ribs were going to curl in on themselves, like he was about to spontaneously combust from the inside out. Part of him wished he would.

“Hey. Lo–Lo.”

Surprisingly, despite internal conflict, that was all it took to gain Logan’s attention and quell the near panic he was in. It vibrated under the surface, but that differed greatly from the terror that made his hair stand on end, like lightning was about to strike and give him the energy to bolt.

“You helped me save my universe when you really didn’t have to. You could’ve just left me to watch my universe die and abandoned me in a black hole. But you didn’t do that. You put up with me, and saved the world. Not yours. But mine.”

There are times in life when people smile at someone like they hung the moon. The smile Wade was giving Logan, beat that feeling by a million. He was smiling as if Logan hung every star and dedicated them to him. Each constellation, every sun, placed by his hands alone. In a way, they could claim that about the other, for they were the reason why each star still resided in unexplored space, staring down at the cause of their vitality.

“Then, you could’ve left. But you didn’t. You stayed, and then you threw yourself into making everyone I loved, happier. You pushed Peter into going after that girl from the TVA. You helped Yukio when she started her small business and got overwhelmed with orders. You got Al into a high end Assisted Living Facility and got her to pursue different groups there so she’d have friends that don’t snort coke for funsies. And then, as if that wasn’t enough. When Laura got dropped here, I watched you help her pick up the pieces, and, at the end of that, she decided to go to college, for nursing. She’s gonna live a normal life because of you, and I know that she has you on speed dial – straight to your flip phone – if anything goes wrong. Laura loves you, and trusts you. Also, I know it was you that got Mary the holiday themed sweaters and don’t even try to tell me that I bought them and just forgot because I didn’t.”

All of that, was true, and there was even more where that came from in terms of Logan reaching out to help those who cared about him in this new world. It was a way to make up for what he did in his own world, yes, but it was also a second chance, a clean slate. Logan wanted to be better here, and he jumped at every opportunity to prove himself as that. Not just for himself, he also genuinely cared.

“You asked me why I care about you, Logan. I have to be honest with you. I care about you…….”

Wade sighed and looked down for a moment. It was clear he was gathering his bearings, and Logan felt worried. Just as fast as he looked away, Wade was back with a gaze so stone cold it made Logan shiver.

“...... Because you don’t.”

That statement hit Logan like a bus. He was stunned. A metaphorical rock sunk in his stomach as he waited for Wade to elaborate.

By god, did he.

“You’re so damn selfless it hurts sometimes. You care so much, so deeply for everyone around you that you deserve someone to give it back times a million,” Wade’s eyes widened, a lightbulb turning on behind them as a barely noticeable gasp left his lips.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Too many tears had been cried tonight, so Logan decided that he wasn’t going to give himself the chance to produce anymore. Reacting to this involved no thinking. None whatsoever. Logan surged forward, kissing Wade in a way that was deep and deliberate, as if he was dying of thirst and Wade was a freshwater river. He kissed Wade like he needed him to live. Underneath Logan, Wade groaned, melting into the motions like butter. Hands tugged at Logan’s hair, not out of control, but for leverage as Wade started to give back what he was given by tenfold. Teeth graced Logan’s bottom lip. A tongue pushed through at the slightest notion of give. The echo of a loud moan rattled in Logan’s skull before he realized the sound came from him. He hadn’t been kissed with this much passion in too long. Was it Jean? Scott? Storm? It didn’t fucking matter. Not when Wade was kissing Logan like he wanted to devour him. A sharp hair tug pulled Logan back, making him whine, and allowing them to breathe – pant – before Wade dove back in for more. Logan felt drunk, his brain hazy as he forced himself to break off the kiss. He needed a longer break than this. Wade released a small noise of disappointment as Logan placed kisses along Wade’s jaw and down his neck —

— there was a new scent here now.

The artificial lemon smell was gone. Logan remembered Wade wiping his hood here earlier. That must’ve taken it away. Logan felt Wade freeze below and around him. There had to be insecurity here. Logan wondered if anyone ever insulted Wade for his scent before and if that was the root? Maybe it tied in with insecurity towards his looks. Logan didn’t want that at the forefront, and eased into following his instincts. His nose nuzzled the gland, coaxing more of that delicious smell out, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Gingerly, he pressed his tongue against the source, gently lapping at it.

“I smell so good you wanna taste it?”

Wade’s voice was filled with hope and disbelief, two things Logan rarely heard from this man. Wanting to confirm that he did indeed want to taste it, Logan enclosed his mouth over the gland and sucked, relishing in both the flavor and —

“Oh, God.”

Wade sounded wrecked.

Logan pulled away, watching as the red mark he left behind disappeared slowly, much slower than any other wound he watched Wade heal from before. He didn’t dwell on it. There were more pressing matters to deal with.

“You smell like cherries,” he stated, unprompted. “Cherries and cinnamon. Pie filling,” Logan’s sentences were short, rushed out between intakes of breath. “It’s perfect.”

“That’s what I said about you, peanut,” concern resided in Wade’s gaze, almost as if he couldn’t believe what Logan was saying. Turns out, he definitely didn’t. “Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining, sugar-tits. I smell like death. I have to. I look like dea–”

Logan didn’t have the patience to even grant that thought access to the air. He cut Wade off with a kiss, passion fueling it as a way to show that Logan meant what he said and disagreed with what Wade thought. He shifted against Wade’s body as the kiss deepened, allowing Logan the chance to grind on Wade’s thigh. If anything was going to catch his attention, it was that.

“You seem to think the opposite,” Wade whispered against Logan’s lips, leading him to nod just enough to get his point across, but not move. Experimentally, he rutted against Wade’s thigh again, a groan leaving his lips before capturing Wade’s again. He was so lost already, using Wade as an anchor and an outlet, to be grounded and to have release. But not here. Not like this. Logan pulled away and willed himself to stop grinding on Wade. They were still close. So incredibly close. Admittedly, he wanted the closeness here. A tingle in the back of his throat was a warning that internal thoughts were about to manifest. Logan felt it in his eyes too. In one swift movement, Logan embraced Wade and buried his face in his neck again, inhaling that beautifully perfect scent again, and finally placing a title for it. Something that was foreign for forever, only recently familiar.

“It’s home,” that sounded a bit too much like a sob, but he didn’t care. The tears weren’t coupling with it, and even if they were, he didn’t need to be embarrassed. The feeling of Wade nosing along his neck indicated that he was returning the favor, but Wade’s tongue prodding Logan’s scent gland proved that Wade was right to sound wrecked earlier. It was like a button that went straight to his groin, and the keen that left Logan’s lips made Wade smirk against his neck.

“You’re right, honey badger. You smell that way to me too. Hell, you taste like home.” Wade pulled back, forcing them to lock eyes. Once again, Wade looked concerned, but it was different this time, it was more questioning than anything else. “Do you know what that means?”

A muffled noise rumbled out of Logan, oddly enough, this was to be conversational toward Wade. Luckily, because of course, Wade elaborated.

“It means I was meant to pick you up at that bar, my dear truemate.”

The hint of smugness in Wade’s tone made Logan snort while chuckling and choose to ignore the gravity of Wade being his soulmate or truemate or whatever–the–flying–fuck–mate; he couldn’t help but lean back to look at Wade. Fuck. They were meant to be. How poetic? A grump and a ray of sunshine.

Right now, the flashback to that night in the bar was at the forefront of Logan’s mind, and yeah, Wade probably flirted with him there — he flirted with him everywhere, and going through the void could’ve counted as a date if he squinted while holding a magnifying glass, but the fact still was:

“You abducted me.”

“Exactly,” Wade’s laugh sounded like bubbles somehow. “I picked you up.”

Holy shit. Yeah. Wade did carry him out of that bar. After downing that bottle of – he didn’t even remember what liquor, just that Wade had called him ‘a thirsty little honey badger’ before the world became thankfully, at the time, fuzzy. Next thing Logan knew, he was being dragged into the TVA in his super suit, tossed on the floor, and blipped into a desert with the 20th Century Fox logo. Wade carried him out of there. Wade was powerful as fuck. Had to be since he was capable of such a herculean task. Login felt his dick kick and his cheeks heat.

Wade carried him.

Logan was in awe.

“How the fuck did you do that? I’m 500 pounds, at least.”

A smirk crossed Wade’s lips and Logan internally recoiled.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Who woulda thought such a huge, jacked man, would have a strength kink?” A layered chuckle came from Wade, followed by a wistful sigh once his laughs settled. Scarred hands skirted up and into Logan’s hair, not tugging or scratching like before, just playing with the sides. “You know, with cowlicks like these, I'm just a victim of the kitty distribution system.”

“I am not a cat,” Logan retorted.

Wade grinned like the cat that got the cream. “You’re in heat like one.”

“Wade.”

A thigh raised, meeting and pressing against Logan’s crotch, forcing a hushed breath out of him. Wade’s grin remained. “You’re hard as a rock too, me-ow.”

Wade’s thigh disappeared and Logan huffed in response to Wade’s actions and words. However, by some sweet miracle, Wade got the message.

“Right, less talky, more fucky.”

Finally, now they were getting somewhere. Logan wasn’t afraid to admit that he needed Wade, especially since he was so goddamn horny now. He needed Wade to touch him, fuck him, anything he was willing to give, Logan would gladly take. He smiled, genuinely.

“That I can get behind.”

“Or under, or on top of,” Wade joked, joy dancing in his eyes. “You gotta be flexible.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Wade,” he muttered. “I want you.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Not here.”

A smug smirk crossed Wade’s lips. “Then where, babygirl?”

—

Wade grunted.

“Holy shit, Logan.”

Logan’s back collided with his mattress, an ungraceful “oof” leaving his lips when he connected. He watched as Wade adjusted. He rolled his shoulders so fluidly and cracked his knuckles with such precision, staring down at Logan like he was going to eat him alive. It was even hotter that Wade probably could.

“God, you’re so hot,” Wade mused, the mattress dipping as he knee-walked on it, positioning him over Logan’s legs.

“I’m hot?” Logan chuckled. “You just fireman carried me in here and threw me.”

“That doesn’t make me hot, boo-boo-bear, it makes me strong.”

Logan’s hands rested on Wade’s thighs, his sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination at all. Logan felt his mouth run dry, especially when Wade shucked off his hoodie, and Logan was given the pleasure of seeing every ounce of lean muscle Wade had from the waist up.

“We’ll agree to disagree,” Logan muttered as he felt slick gather inside his boxers. This should be such a turn off, normally it would be – it was before – but now it had a direct cause: Wade.

“I should’ve waited to crawl up here,” Wade chuckled as he scooted backwards. Logan bended his knees so his legs formed three-fourths of a rectangle, giving Wade more room. Now he wouldn’t have to leave the bed. “You’re cute when you’re needy, peanut. We gotta get you naked, though.”

Wade hovered over Logan, his textured hands sliding up his legs, catching the hair in a way that made him shiver. They settled on his hips, remaining still before tapping them lightly.

“Up for me, baby.”

Logan rolled his eyes and raised his hips. Wade was quick, removing the boxers like his life depended on it. A gasp left Logan's lips as the cool air hit him, followed by a groan. Realization took over of just what the situation was down there; it took for him to be cold to realize just how —

“Holy Niagara Falls, Batman.”

— wet he was.

There was a plop from his boxers hitting the floor, followed by a similar pair of sounds when Wade’s sweatpants and My Little Pony boxers hit the floor – Logan knew his favorite was the pink one with the curly hair. Pink – Pinky? Pinky Pie? Yeah that was it.

Logan stared at Wade while he was stripping, taking in his lean yet muscular form. Fuck, he had a body on him that wouldn’t quit, almost as if he was chiseled like the most classic of Greek statues. “Maybe one that survived Pompeii.” He could hear Wade say in his mind, even internally, Logan wasn’t having any of it. He felt a smile spread on his face. He wondered how long it would stay if he took a Sharpie and connected Wade’s scars, forming the constellations. The ones from his universe. The ones Wade had never seen before. It’d be the least he could do, especially since Wade showed Logan the ones here, taking him to a field outside of the city when he was especially moody and ‘in his feels,’ as Wade put it. With the light pollution gone, they just looked at the stars, staring up into the unknown. This was when Logan noticed that this sky was completely different from the one he knew forever. Unsurprisingly, Wade was more than willing to rattle on about the stars, drowning out the thoughts in the back of Logan’s mind.

That night, all that mattered was the stars.

“Last time somebody looked at me like that, they were in love with me.” Wade had said that night, followed by a giggle of disbelief.

But here Logan was, months later, looking at Wade the same way he looked at him that night in the field, except now, Wade was right. Maybe he was right then, but Logan knew the truth now.

“Logan,” No nickname. No jokey tone. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Logan sat up, looping his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. If everything was alright, Wade would be making some quip about his tits, say “nice rack” or something, definitely something that was charmingly stupid and far more clever than “nice rack”. But Wade stood there, naked as the day he was born – though it was safe to say he wasn’t hard as nails that day – looking slightly unsure of himself.

“Last time someone looked at you like this, they were in love with you, right?”

Wade was on him in a second, kissing him like nothing else mattered, kissing him like he was the shore and Wade was the waves, giving and taking passion and intensity with each lift and return of his lips. Logan connected with the mattress again, as Wade’s hands found and squeezed his chest. He nearly chuckled and absolutely rolled his eyes when Wade mumbled “coconuts, you can put ‘em in your mouth,” before diving in for more. Wade was making Logan’s brain melt out of his ears with his lips on his alone. A hazy feeling that felt glorious.

Their hips met, punched out groans leaving their mouths as a new heat took over. The kisses stopped as they rutted against each other, sweat and pre slicking the way, groans and grunts echoing into one another’s ear, noses shoved against the other’s scent gland. Neither of them wanted this to be the end, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to stop, he could feel the pressure beginning to build, however, a warning was not needed, as Wade backed away, kneeling in the center of Logan’s open legs.

A heady whine escaped Logan, nearly involuntarily.

“I know, I know, peanut. But, you can’t tell me you wanted the party to be over already.”

The end of that statement was almost teasing. Both of them were mutants, they could go multiple times. At least, in Logan’s old universe that was how it worked, from what he could remember. Maybe it was different here.

“I want to take my time with you, sunshine. We could’ve rutted like prom night, but I think you deserve better. I’m talking about a home run here.”

Logan huffed in exasperation. He understood, but damn, he wanted to get off. He hadn’t been this on edge with another human being involved in, fifteen, twenty – he-didn’t-remember-how-long-ago – years. He just wanted Wade to touch him, at this point, he didn’t care how.

Wade crossed his arms, a smirk appearing on his face as he stared down at Logan. “Did they not have baseball in your universe? I want to rail your brains out, kitten. Screw you till you can’t walk. Fuck you till you scream. Invade your Hershey Highwa—”

“We had baseball, Wade!” A far too bubbly laugh came out of Logan, enough to where he questioned if it was him for a moment.

“Oh. Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was too focused on the blue balls you gave me.”

“Hey, they have purpose,” Wade leaned forward, grabbing Logan’s right leg and pushing it back till his knee met his shoulder. “Hold this down, sweetpea.”

It took some maneuvering, but there were two pillows underneath Logan’s hips now, angling them upward, while also providing a cushion. This position also allowed Logan’s legs to naturally fall out and back and for Wade to take in the uninhibited sight of Logan’s wet hole.

“Look at you,” Wade muttered as he leaned down, wrapping his arms around Logan’s meaty thighs and bringing him closer. Now, Logan didn’t know what Wade was going to do, and frankly, didn’t care. All he wanted was for Wade to have him in any capacity whatsoever, and for him to get the damn show on the road, what was taking so –

“Holy, fuck,” Logan grumbled as Wade’s tongue began to lave over that tight ring of muscle, undoubtably gathering slick that pooled there and getting a taste of it for himself. Logan’s eyes rolled back, a strained “shit, yes,” tumbling from his lips as Wade speared his tongue inside, exploring and coaxing more slick to appear as he continued relentlessly. Fingers joined in, searching and eventually prodding at the place that made Logan nearly scream. In all his years of living, no one had ever done this to him before, and until now, he couldn't have imagined it feeling this good. Logan’s muscles clenched in pleasure around Wade’s fingers and tongue with a kind of strength that would cause most people to stop, but Wade kept going, absolutely ravishing him within an inch of his life. Distantly, Logan heard someone begging. A ragged, repeated, aimless string of the word “please.” It took Wade stopping for Logan to realize that it was him.

Wade’s face was red and coated in Logan’s juices from the nose down, leaving Logan to watch in awe as Wade made a show of sucking and licking his fingers clean. “You taste,” he deftly wiped his chin and licked his hand free of slick in one swift movement. “So fucking good.” Logan groaned at this, watching as Wade cleaned the rest of his face the same way, ending it with a chuckle. “You’re lucky I don't need to breathe, honey badger.”

“Then why’d you stop?” Logan mused, his voice barely hiding frustration as he gripped the sheets, using them as an outlet. He could shred them, even without his claws, but to do that out of impatience seemed a bit trivial.

“You’re ready,” Wade stepped off the bed, walking over to the box Logan’s heat supplies came in before handing Logan a plastic container of wipes and telling him to put them on the nightstand next to him, which he did. Wade, meanwhile, sauntered off, walking through their apartment butt–ass naked and away from Logan. A disappointed noise left him as Wade left, accompanied by a wave of sadness crashing over him at the sight. However, Logan’s ears perked up at the sound of Wade laughing and bare feet plopping against the tile floor as he jogged, Logan could picture it, an involuntary smile appearing.

“I can't wait for you to waterboard my dick!” Wade joked before he poked his head in from the frame, a million dollar grin on his face as he reached an arm into the doorway, dangling a wrapped condom by the corner and shaking it in a humorously awkward way that was somehow charming and perfectly Wade. “While he’s wearing a life-jacket, of course,” he strode in after that statement, standing in front of the bed and Logan’s spread legs while finishing his preparations and musing while doing so. “With how much slick you make, this’ll practically be white water rafting. I can check that off my bucket list.”

Logan scoffed, “Why do you have a bucket list?”

“That’s,” Wade halted all movement for a second. “That’s what you’re commenting on?” Wade chuckled and continued to finish, “Well, with you, my bucket list is the Kama Sutra, and, speaking of–”

The mattress dipped as Wade climbed on the bed, readying himself to breach Logan at any second, leaning over him, face close. “Of all the things I thought I’d do with you, ‘Missionary with the lights on’ was not the thing I thought we’d do first.”

“Well, it’s not too late to — oh–”

Slowly, Wade began pressing inside, stretching Logan open, slick guiding the way until Wade was fully seated, hips pressed against plump ass cheeks.

“You okay?”

How sweet; but of course Logan was okay. Wade was gentle, and, even if he wasn’t – healing factor. But for some reason, taking things slow felt amazing. They didn’t need to rush, they had forever. Literally.

Logan nodded, “Don’t move yet though.”

Wade obeyed, his face eventually nestling in the crook of Logan’s neck, inhaling his scent, relishing in the fact that this man was his mate.

“You’re lucky I remembered to wrap it,” Wade whispered in Logan’s ear, a light-hearted laugh following it as he pulled back to look at Logan. “We’d have kits in no time, if I didn’t.”

“Kits?” Logan asked incredulously, an adorably confused scowl on his face.

Wade nodded. “That’s what baby wolverines are called.”

Silence on Logan’s part caused Wade to grin. “You didn’t know that, did you, sugar bear?”

“I uh,” Logan couldn’t bring himself to lie here, “no.”

Wade laughed the kind of laugh that made Logan only want to hear that laugh for the rest of his days. Earnest, meaningful, love in the eyes…

Memorable.

The key to making the past fade to a blur was right in front of him. Starting anew wasn’t even a question when he got here, but cherishing the chance to start loving in this life was something he never knew he needed.

Logan’s second chance was rooted in love.

He was never the type to scream from the rooftops or serenade. Declarations of such prominence were admitted inadvertently or said through action, if opportunity for action was given at all. But Wade was rewriting the book for Logan, making him feel the way those main girls in the Hallmark musicals Wade insisted on watching sometimes felt. Right when the worlds are colliding and the tension is building and there’s no choice but for the words to come out. An admission, a confession, a shout. Or, a whisper, coupled with a slight smile.

A prayer.

“I love you.”

Reverence was the tone as weight he didn’t know was there lifted, replaced by Wade’s physical weight as their lips locked. “Fuck, I love you too,” Wade voiced between kisses, his hips starting to roll slowly, naturally, providing enough pressure to give hints as to what was to come. Lips glided, eyes slipped shut and back open, each not wanting to miss the other. Groans pierced the air as the pace increased, Logan’s legs hooking around Wade’s back, urging him closer, wanting him deeper. This wasn’t enough. Slow could be thrown out the window now. He needed more.

“Wade, please,” Logan stated, his head lolling back against the sheets as Wade nibbled on his neck and scaled back down to leisurely thrusts that seemed to be more of a tease than anything else.

“Even without talking, you’re somehow annoying.”

“Huh?” Wade murmured, delivered between bites. “Sorry.”

After one last sharp snip to the neck, Wade raised his head, their faces so incredibly close as Wade hovered minisculely above. “I just can’t get over how they’re staying. Truemate thing. I’m gonna mark you so much, you’ll need to wear a turtleneck for the rest of your life.”

Logan cringed at that image, he’d rather wear a tutu in public before a turtleneck. Besides, it’s not like he’d actually care about hiding hickies. He’d be proud to show them off. However, before Logan could voice any of these thoughts, Wade continued to ramble, a smirk dancing on his tantalizingly close lips.

“You’ll look like a professor, I’ll buy you reading glasses. Foster Grants,” Wade sighed dramatically, slipping into a fake role that reflected the worst kind of porn and made Logan roll his eyes.

“Is there any way I can get an extension on the paper, Professor Howlett? I’m sure I could find some way to convince you.”

“Is there any way I can get you to mark me on the inside?” Logan stated flatly, trying not to smirk when he thought of something to add, playing in Wade’s space. “Give me five stars on the student reviews? I really need my job.”

“And he jokes back!” Wade exclaimed before giving Logan kisses on both cheeks. “God, I died somehow and you’re my heaven.”

An oddly romantic line from the Merc With A Mouth. One that Logan didn’t know how else to respond to, except with action. He brought his hand up, bringing Wade down by the back of the head into a smoldering kiss. One that spurred Wade to move, both reciprocating the kiss and undulating his hips, making Logan groan with each breath, internal thoughts slipping out in hushed tones. “Be rough, Wade. Pretend we’re back in that van. Get angry –”

The van.

They got so close to fucking then.

Adrenaline and sweat and unadulterated hatred fueled that. Stabbing and punching and Wade bitch-slapped Logan at one point, which was answered with claws through the face.

But this was different. Adrenaline and sweat were here, but there was no hatred to speak of anymore.

“I’m not gonna get angry, wolvie. But I can deliver on rough.”

Sure enough, Wade started pounding; hard enough that it took Logan by surprise at first. A gasp unfurled into a keen as his eyes rolled back and shut. Noises Logan didn’t even know he could make, at octaves he didn’t think he could reach, left him in a steady stream. Each action Wade made produced a sound from Logan.

“Needy and noisy,” Wade mused between thrusts, his grip tightening on Logan’s hips. “‘Strong, silent type,’” Wade scoffed, air quotes audible. “My dick. Get a cock inside so–called ‘quiet’ James Logan Howlett and he squeals like Miss Piggy.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed bright red, especially since Wade started to go even harder somehow. “Wade!” he voiced, wrapping his arms around Wade for some semblance of control, even though his was slipping more and more away by the second.

“I’m soooo gonna brag about this on Reddit later. Call the newspaper even though no one reads it. I want everyone to know.”

A choked noise escaped Logan, “Know what?”

“How good you’re doing. How well you’re taking me. How much of a good boy you are.”

Logan suddenly felt every nerve come to life under Wade’s praise. “Oh, fuck. Wade!”

Wade chuckled sharply. “Now, there’s a kink I can work with. You were fucking made for me, weren’t you?”

Heat coiled within Logan as he nodded.

“Hell yeah, you were. Made for me to fuck. Made for me for praise and worship. God, you deserve every bit of it babe.”

How Wade was able to form words was beyond him, considering Logan’s brain cells were currently melting. But then again, Wade talked in his sleep, so, apparently consciousness wasn’t needed for Wade to verbalize. Still, Logan felt the pressure build more and more, enough to where that recognition almost took over everything, even covering up what Wade was saying.

“ — fucking wet for me; knot latch will be easier than peach pie. Is that the kind that guy in that movie fucked? Or was it apple?” A low laugh creeped out of Wade as he peered down at Logan’s weeping cock. “You’re about to come aren't you?”

Logan didn’t even need to nod or vocalize anything before Wade started stroking him, hurtling Logan rapidly to the precipice. He felt himself clench everywhere, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as the image behind his eyes turned bright white. Distantly, he heard a voice, its vibrato slipping as reality faded for a moment. It swooped back in, a comforting haze aiding the way as Logan opened his eyes. There Wade was, eyes squinted in concentration, bottom lip bitten as he grunted with each pump of his hips. Logan could feel Wade pulsing and the warmth filling the latex that separated them, but he could also see the relaxation that took over Wade’s face as well.

A million dollar smile came Logan’s way.

“Hey, peanut.”

A grin of his own slowly spread on his face, dictating nothing but joy, even as tiredness set in.

“Hi, Wade.”

“Look at you,” Wade murmured, taking in the sight of Logan. A reflection of the aftermath. Copious amounts of spend decorated Logan. From speckles on his chin, to the near puddles pooling in the gutters of his hips, he was covered. “No wonder you asked me to marry you, this is decadence incarnate.”

Now, hold on, what? Marriage? Logan couldn’t recall saying anything like that. Though, admittedly, he was not opposed to the idea. What better than to be married to someone who can be with you always? ‘Till death do us part,’ wouldn’t even be a notion. They could honestly be together forever.

“You said it before you passed out. By the way, you passed out when you – well, hell, if that much came out of my dick, I’d pass out too.”

Attention being brought to the sheer amount of liquid warming against his skin made Logan also realize it was moving ever so slightly with every breath he took. A gargle of syllables left his lips, all unintelligible, but verbalized with a tone of discomfort. Sometimes, a vague noise is enough to get a point across. Wade smirked and immediately stuck his tongue out as he leaned down slowly, ensuring eye contact.

“No, Wade.”

There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen, at least, not this time.

“You’re no fun,” Wade faux whined before smiling sincerely. “There’s wipes next to you on the nightstand, angel baby.

Unwrapping his arms from behind Wade’s neck proved to be a challenge, not only were his hands shaky, but also, in the height of pleasure, his claws came out and they interlocked with one another. This was news to him. Maybe this also happened right before he passed out.

“Yeah, you unsheathed. Don’t worry, it was into the air behind my head; you didn't hurt me. Though, I have to say, getting proposed to and getting almost sorta killed in the same few seconds was quite the rush,” Wade chuckled softly to himself for a moment as Logan reached back and shakily handed Wade the package of wipes. The smirk disappeared.

“Oh, you poor thing. Listen, I am the king of aftercare and — my god, it's rolling off you and onto the sheets, fuck that's hot — uhhhh, I'm gonna take care of you, okay?”

All Logan could do was nod, because he knew that if he opened his mouth he'd mumble something along the lines of “then why don't you shut up and fucking do it already?” and, well, why ruin the moment? As it stood, Wade started wiping Logan down as soon as he consented to it, beginning at the chin. However, of course, this came with a side of Wade rambling.

“Jeez, what a compliment? I've never seen anybody come this much before, and I’ve had a lot of sex.” Wade continued with the wiping motions, soon arriving at his chest, where Wade stopped for a brief moment to muse to himself and to make Logan blush. “It even got on those glorious titties. I have to ask —” His ministrations resumed, continuing down Logan’s stomach and hips. But, Wade leaned forward, making it so he was speaking directly to Logan’s dick. “ — are you okay? No one’s touched you there in a damn hot minute huh? You poor little, actually not little at all, very giant thing?”

It was true that doing anything like this at all was out of the question for a long time, but Logan didn’t want to really think about that right now. Instead, he focused on the fact that Wade, his fiancé now apparently – go passed out him for having the balls to say it – was having a conversation with his penis. A concept that was so adorable and amusing, that he started to chuckle. The second Logan did this, Wade’s eyes shut for a second, a stray “oh shit,” quietly entering the air as amusement left Logan entirely and he adopted a look of concern.

“Just, fuck. Do that again,” Wade said, strained. “You squeezed and –”

Wade groaned, eyes rolling back and shut as Logan squeezed around his knot. A pulse from within him made Logan realize exactly what was happening, and also, the purpose. He felt himself smirking, seeing an opportunity to have a little bit of fun. He squeezed again, a breathless groan leaving Wade as he voiced one coherent thought.

“How long do you want us to stay tied together?”

If he could get away with it, Logan’s answer would be forever. For now, he chose to squeeze again, sending Wade doubling over and landing on his chest.

“I come every time you do that,” Wade panted harshly, breaths coming out in a way that would produce fog on glass. Warm and quick. “You know that, right?”

Logan chuckled sharply and squeezed harder, making Wade's face scrunch up. “You can’t–” Wade's eyes rolled back with a choked groan as Logan locked down around his knot again.

“ – milk me dry. We used, fuck, protection.”

An hour passed before they were finally separated, as this escapade continued until Wade was delirious and Logan was deeply proud of himself. The rest of that evening was spent cuddling in bliss, and sharing an entire gallon of peanut butter ice cream; leading them to fall asleep and wake up together the next morning and for Wade to get an idea as soon as the sun’s rays shone.

“I know you popped the question last night, but I also wanted to do it so….”

“So, you’re proposing using one of your ex’s hair ties?”

Wade stared up at Logan from where he was kneeling on one knee on the carpet next to Logan’s – now their – bed. “Well, it’s not like I have any rings lying around, and this is probably Yukio’s,” Wade shook the hair tie, a lopsided smile on his face.

Logan peered down at Wade, smirking. “You’re right. It is pink. Probably Yukio’s.”

“Logannnnnn,” Wade whined and rolled his eyes. “Answer the question.”

“I already proposed to you, you dumbass.”

“I’m your dumbass, peanut.”

Logan smiled at Wade. The kind of smile that makes someone’s insides flip back and forth like a metronome with each heartbeat. “Exactly,” a laugh joined in, making an unstoppable duo of joy. Smile lines formed by his eyes; lines that should never go away, and would never so long as they stuck together. They would. After all, they were meant to meet and meant to be.

“Yes.”