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it’s night. months after the timeline incident. wade and logan finally admitted their feelings to each other, you’ll never guess how. it’s another sleepless night for wade. it started up last week, the sudden insomnia. he couldn’t figure out why, or how. all he remembers is being awake when logan woke up, and playing it off by saying he got up early.
but he knew why, now. hours of thinking, wracking his mind for any clue and in the dead of night, he found it. logan snored, mumbled in his sleep. not as loud as wade, but he did. but tonight, he was quiet. eerily quiet. he’d found a better sleeping position the day before to quiet his snores, and it was working.
but wade didn’t like it. not one bit.
he was sat up, just staring at logan in the dark. the moon was all the light he had. well, including the unicorn nightlight on the other side of the room. and the tv that played softly in the background. the merc watched logan’s chest rise and fall, so slow, so steadily. but his own thoughts ate at him, all negative, all fueled by anxiety and fear.
what if he was dying?
it was a silly thought. logan couldn’t die, not even if he wanted to. but, the thoughts still nagged at him. the timeline’s original logan died because his regeneration had worn out. his age caught up to him, along with the adamantium poisoning. wade feared the same would happen to this logan.
his logan.
he hadn’t even realized he started crying until his vision became blurry. he wiped his face, throat bobbing with a swallowed sob. ‘he’s fine,’ he tried to reassure himself. ‘he’s just sleeping like a baby. no biggie.’
but the reassurance didn’t help. he didn’t want to wake logan up, he learned the hard way that the wolverine was not a fan of being woken up. so, he decided on one last thing to try and quell his fears before they got the best of him.
he laid down, slowly, carefully. he scooted as close as he could get- being on logan’s right, an arm sliding just under logan’s ribcage. wade rested his head against logan’s chest. the skin to skin contact helped somewhat- the heat of his natural body temperature reminding him that his body was still alive. he shifted closer, carefully laying on top of the other as best he could without actually fully laying on top of him. he pressed his ear to the left side of his chest.
ba- dum. ba- dum. ba- dum.
a steady rhythm. a natural, resting beat. his heart was beating. his blood was pumping. his body was alive. he was alive. logan was alive. of course he was. he just needed to convince his mind. the hand that was on logan’s left side moved up, holding the side of his ribcage. feeling his heart beat, listening to the rhythm. tears fell and he let out a relieved sigh, his mind finally quieting, understanding that he was okay.
“..wade?” a gruff voice whispered. “what’re y’doin’, bub?”
he woke logan up. he hadn’t even realized it. wade shook his head, but didn’t move away. he didn’t want to. “just getting comfortable. have i ever told you that your tits are great pillows?” he asked, fighting the shake in his voice. he knew logan would be able to tell that he was crying. the tears kept falling onto his chest for god’s sake.
but it seems he got a pass tonight.
“..mmh. get some sleep, darlin.’” came logan’s reply. he knew. but he was both too tired to ask, and he knew wade wouldn’t talk about it. not yet, anyway. he’d bring it up until the morning.
wade felt his heart flutter, and he nodded. he still wasn’t used to the more endearing names. “i am, go back to bed, baby girl.” his hand patted logan’s side, and he finally felt his exhaustion catching up to him. logan just grumbled, a yawn leaving him. his arms came up, wrapping securely around wade’s upper body and keeping him close. his heartbeat slowed down to resting, and wade felt the sound pulling his mind to dream land.
and when he woke the next morning, it was by logan tracing shapes against his back, flicking through the channels on tv. the older pressed a soft kiss to the merc’s forehead, muttering a soft ‘go back to sleep,’ before focusing on the tv again. and he didn’t need to be told twice. he let himself fall asleep again, cuddled close to the, very much alive, love of his life.