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Chapter Text

FIRST DAY OF MATING SEASON

It's been four months since Logan had been essentially kidnapped and brought into this new universe; both literally and figuratively; Wade himself is his own universe. He draws in his people, makes them feel safe and seen, bringing them home. Logan had never imagined in a million years that for once he’d be the one brought there. Jean’s words were still ringing in his head.

And, like always, he doubts he deserves it. Confident that one day, Wade will wake up and find out just how terrible Logan is and put him down. Just like a bad dog, which is exactly what he is. No matter where he starts over, he still has his own family’s blood on his hands. And of course all he can do now is curl up in bed and wait for any god out there to take pity on him and put him out of his misery.

“You will never save the world. You couldn’t even save your own family. Best to run now,” Logan’s own mind tells him, “How could anyone ever love a stupid mutt like you? Taking advantage of a family who don’t know how horrible you are. If they saw you for what you are, at your core, Wade would’ve-“

“Wolvie baby,” Wade’s voice calls from the kitchen. In his own way, though Logan would never admit this, he is a calming force. His voice somehow drowns out Logan’s thoughts like a balm on a third-degree burn. This man who has had the world snatched from him and decided to be a better man because of it was a light in this cruel world. How could he, Logan, be regarded as a hero in this world when this… angel- no, force of nature stood right there?

“Fuckin’ huge mistake those shitbags made. Anyone would be lucky to have ‘im.”

And a soft voice in the depths of his mind, a voice he’d lost at the bottom of the bottle; hope, spoke up, “I’m lucky to have him. I’m lucky he chose me.”

“-Logan? Hello? Peanut?” Suddenly Wade is standing right in front of him, eyes as full of emotion as ever. And of course all Logan can do is growl at him, the smells and sounds of the world becoming louder than normal as he slowly wakes.

And of course, because every universe hates him, it’s the first day of mating season.

Often, it’s an uncomfortable and regrettable series of events and he hates every minute of it. His abdomen always aches for a mate and everything in world is a bit more. The lights, the smells, the sounds, his short temper to name a few. The times he tried to fight it, it only ended in disaster. That feeling only got worse after the X-Men’s deaths. Right before, he’d finished his season (which usually lasted around a month) with Jean and Scott. They’d offered to take care of him through the pain. Not like he asked them for it though. And he was happy. But they couldn’t ever know, couldn’t have them thinking he cared.

Now, he’s prepared. There was no way in hell that Logan was going to act on these urges nor let them slow him down. Especially in an unfamiliar place. No way he’d be claiming a mate, settling down, and filling his mate with pups like his animalistic brain urged him to do. He would just get a motel room (“With what money?” His mind supplied), stay there until he could find an effective way to handle these ‘ruts’ (as Hank had called them so long ago), and then get back to regular life. If you could call construction on weekdays and missions on the weekends with the merc as a normal life.

Only there was one problem.

Wade’s Wade-ness

No matter what he did, he wouldn’t be able to escape the traitorous feelings swirling in his chest, like a dog begging for attention and preening whenever Wade pointed his bright eyes at him. Not to mention how, if he ran, Wade would likely hunt him down and if he stayed, Wade would dig into his business. But at least if he stayed, Wade wouldn’t collect his entire patchwork family to pitch in to track Logan. More than anything, he wanted his business to stay his business.

So, the plan needs some revising. Shouldn’t be too hard. He’s done this before; he can do it again.

As he ponders, Wade somehow knew he needed extra strong liquor-coffee (mainly liquor at this point) and some bacon, his snacking food of choice. Not the best breakfast but he’d had worse. He wouldn’t be eating at all if Wade hadn’t urged him to.

Which reminds him to continue the plan. A plan that his stupid heart was getting in the way of, only further proven by the urge to curl up into Wade’s lap and sleep there until this monstrosity of a cycle was over.

Logan scratched down on a piece of paper, trying to keep his handwriting illegible:

New plan: lock himself in a room to come up with a better plan, stop being a pussy and ask Hank how to fix this all. Do not tell Wade anything, the less he knows, the better.

+

FOUR DAYS INTO MATING SEASON

Somehow, Wade just drew Logan in more, an irresistible pull towards him. And apparently, it’s far too obvious.

On day 2, Wade hosted a game night, the entire family gathering in their apartment that clearly was made for one.

They all gathered around the dining table, squishing Logan right next to Wade (not that he minds, he quite likes it actually; the animal part of his brain purring in satisfaction, but he would rather claw his own eyes out than admit it to himself or anyone else).

As per usual, Wade began to go off on some elaborate story about the weekly bad guy the duo had fought. And as usual, everyone was leaning in, all eyes on Wade as he drew them in. Only this time, Vanessa was staring at Logan instead, a slightly pitying and smug expression painted on her face. Her eyes bore into his soul, making it even harder than usual to stay focused on what Wade was saying.

“-And my peanut here,” Wade wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in even closer, “My knight in shining claws, saved me from the big bad mafia boss and carried me off to safety- “

“That didn’t fucking happen,” Logan interjected, his mouth slightly twitching into a smirk.

“Well then, if you’re so right, why don’t you share with the group, Wolvie,” Wade teased, challenging Logan to step up to the plate.

“Your leg got chopped off, so I just handled the rest of the goons. End of story,” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t sell yourself short, angel baby. You scooped me up in your big hunk arms, carried me like I weighed nothing over to Dopinder’s chariot. I could’ve died happy being pushed up on your tits,” Wade sighed, leaning even more into Logan’s personal space. Logan’s face burned at the touch. A younger version of himself would’ve kissed Wade silly just for that line. Fuck, with everything Wade has done for him, he probably would’ve wifed him up. And shit, he wants to.

This over 200-year-old man was a lost fucking cause for Wade “Merc with a Mouth” Wilson.

+

Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous, but the moment Vanessa saw Wade with Logan, she knew they were perfect. A better match than she ever was.

Two practically immortal men with heaps of trauma, equals on the battlefield (at least according to Wade’s stories), and completely oblivious. Matching idiots is what they are.

Vanessa always knew Wade had the hots for the Wolverine. He collected everything he possibly could of the man’s, would fawn over the chance to meet the one and only Logan. But then, at the make-up birthday party, when Wade pulled her aside, she knew he was head-over-heels for the stray he’d brought home.

She just looked at him with a knowing smirk, chuckling every time Wade would be glancing over his shoulder at Logan. He was constantly looking for him no matter what. It wasn’t a surprise when a day later he admitted how gone he was for Logan.

“I’m telling you, ‘Ness, his eyes are like melted gold! I would sell my prized Sanrio collection for another chance at the fight in that fucking Honda Odessey. Man, he fucks hard. Like I bet if you locked us in a room, I’d be walking out heavily pregnant. Plus, he’s perfect husband material! Ugh, the way he was caring for mini-Wolvie was just… I don’t have the words to explain! A-and he got up this morning and made breakfast! Breakfast, ‘Nessa! Breakfast! I started drooling with him just standing there in MY pjs, shirtless. I need him to knock me up. If I don’t start carrying his pups tonight, I’m gonna riot. I need those rock-solid abs pressed up on me. Fuck the David, Logan is the real masterpiece.”

And every week, he’d just add on, Vanessa being helpless to just sit and listen to him go on for hours.  Not that she minded, he seemed much happier now. The happiest he’s been in over six years. As his wing woman, the more she heard about Logan, the more she vowed to make sure that he didn’t break Wade’s heart, and that this coward would get the man of his dreams.

Now though, she had a slightly different goal. She needed to make sure Logan didn’t break Wade’s heart and that those two cowards would stop their pining.

The plan change had happened when she took notice to how Logan looked at Wade during his weekly story. His eyes were soft, looking at the merc as if he hung the stars in the sky. No doubt that the flush on his cheeks wasn’t from his barely drunken beer, but certain feelings she herself had faced with Wade. He continued to look at Wade that way for the rest of the night, even if he was across the room, which wasn’t often considering they were practically joined at the hip, Logan following Wade around like a lovesick puppy.

Safe to say, she was going to do everything in her power to get them to realize each other’s feelings. Even her own boyfriend, Dermont, was rooting for them.

+

“So, Logan, right?” Vanessa asked, climbing out the window to join him on the fire escape.

Logan blamed his current rut mating cycle for the flames of jealousy and protectiveness that crawled up his throat causing a slight growl in his voice, “Yeah, what’s it to ya?”

“Well... Seen you’ve got more than just friendly feelings towards Wade, huh? The sparkle in your eyes when you look at him is a dead giveaway.”

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about. He’s a fuckin’ annoying little shit, why would I have anythin’ close to feelings for ‘im,” Logan shot back, narrowing his eyes as he slurred slightly. He had eight too many beers and his head felt stuffed with cotton.

“Ah, so you haven’t made it past the denial stage yet. Well, first step to solving the problem is admitting you have it,” Vanessa smirked, making Logan actually bare his teeth and growl although it came out softer than he would’ve liked, “Better to admit it, Logan, than shove it down. It’s far healthier to let yourself feel things.”

“What, you my therapist?” Logan huffed, taking a long drag of his Cuban cigar which was a present from Wade as a “one month-a-versery since you’ve joined the most awesome crew in the entire multiverse.” He’d been savoring them slowly.

Vanessa only gave him a knowing glance, sipping her red wine slowly. Clearly she was trying to intimidate him… and it was fucking working.

“Fine. I- er- mutation makes me go through cycles. Matin’ cycles. And I’m goin’ through it right now n’- er- its been makin’ me feel things I ain’t felt in a long time.”

“Longing?”

“If that’s what ya’ wanna call it,” If the beer wasn’t getting to him before, it sure was now since he was practically vomiting his thoughts and feelings to another being, “This-uh- thing in me been makin’ me ‘long’ for somethin’ I can’t have. It wants to settle and erm… mate. But that’s never safe.”

“…I’m assuming you don’t plan on telling Wade this?”

“Fuck no. And if you do-“

“I get it, no need to threaten. At least you don’t. But I’m going to threaten you. Isn’t really in my nature, but I’ve been with Wade through some of the biggest changes in his life. He can take a lot of physical hits now but despite what he shows, he’s fragile. He needs a support system, someone who will stick with him, not someone who will run at the slightest problem. He’s a trooper, he’s been through far too much for one being in the time he’s been alive. He loves deeply, more than you could ever know, and that’s a gift. He makes you feel as if you are his whole world and will trust you with it. I know you two have already been through the unimaginable together but if you hurt his heart, it will stick with him forever and you don’t want that on your conscience. Make the right choices, Logan.” Her voice thundered which reminded Logan deeply of Storm and her command of attention. The words from her mouth laying heavily on his shoulders.

Vanessa gave him a small smile before climbing back out and joining the group. Logan could only sit there and stare off into the distance as the sun completely set and the stars started to peek through the twilight sky.

Logan himself knew deep down that he didn’t need these threats, he knew better than anyone just how hurtful he is. How stupidly dangerous and hurtful he is. How dare anyone trust him, the one man who let his entire world go to shit, care for such a fragile heart. His claws are too sharp for that, he’ll just hurt like he always does.

Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, Logan. They don’t bring him home; they marry the good guy… The good guy sticks around.

And yet, Wade brought him home. God’s perfect idiot, huh.

+

ONE WEEK INTO MATING SEASON

The longer he stayed so close to Wade, quite literally sharing the same bed and waking up sprawled over each other, the harder it was to both push away his feelings and ignore the urges his body begged him to indulge in.

 It seems that once he settled into a decent lifestyle and his body decides to pick up his libido and mating cycle again, taking the reins on Logan’s life. Now, he was getting fucking wet dreams again, which hadn’t happened in ages, even when he was with the X-Men. He was like a fucking teenager waking up with his boxers soaked. Embarrassing, truly. His own body betraying him again, taking the urge to find a mate into its own hands. Add onto that the excruciating ache his lower half gave him when Wade’s scent practically suffocated him or he ignored his hard on for far too long. It’d been bad before but now, he wished if he ripped out his reproductive system it would stay that way. This was just a cocktail of all the shitty things he’d missed out on when he was drunk 24/7.

The only lucky news for Logan was that if he remembered correctly, these cycles lasted at maximum a month. Longer than he would’ve wanted, but at least he knew there was an end in sight.

But today, unlike the other six days, he felt like it would be alright as he lounged in the sun that shone through the curtains and onto the fold-out. His eyes drooping slightly from the warmth and comfort of the sunlight dancing on his skin. Plus, Wade had decided to take up humming some songs that Logan actually knew while he baked.

He never took Wade as a baker. Or a food-maker in general. But it all started when he forced Logan to binge watch the Great British Baking Show with him for an entire weekend without stops. Obviously, they’d drifted off at some point, the weight of Wade’s head resting on his shoulder a stable anchor to reality. He’d fallen asleep to sweet dreams and woken up with a blanket on him and a pillow to support his head. After all of that, Wade was confident that he could make all the dishes in the show and started on a mission to do just that. And he was getting quite good actually. Not that Logan would ever admit that.

Today, based on what he could smell, Wade was crafting some pancakes, attempting to create the best pancakes in the world (which of course he made Logan and Al taste-test). Dare he say, he found it endearing. But everything Wade did these days was endearing to him, even if it was the merc strangling an enemy with his thighs.

“For your breakfast today, your sexiness, is my specialty; sweetheart pancakes paired with slightly raw bacon. Made just how you like them. And, your drink, my dearest Wolvie, is a black coffee with a pinch of Jack Daniels. Enjoy,” Wade bowed, setting the dish and drink on the coffee table. Coming back up, he twisted his invisible mustache, making Logan huff a small laugh.

“Thanks, darlin’, I’ll make sure to tip ya well,” Logan teased back, grabbing his coffee and sipping it slowly.

 He observed carefully the way Wade froze for a second, eyes widening and his jaw practically on the floor, before he re-adjusted and replied with a sly smile, “I look forward to it.”

“He’s such a pretty pink when teased. Wonder what other colors and sounds he makes-“ Logan’s mind added, to which the man grumbled, trying to force the thoughts of bending Wade over the kitchen counter and eating him out, out of his mind.

The merc just murmured, “Wouldn’t be Wolvie without his grumbles, grumble-rine,” before turning to a random direction (confusing Logan who was now looking at Wade) and continuing, “Sorry folks that you had to suffer through that. I’ll admit, not as funny in just word form. If you could see my face you’d smell my comedy gold.”

He’d brought his own plate of pancakes over earlier and moved to sit on the floor, gazing up at the TV as he set up My Little Pony, the new show they were binging. Well, more like Wade was binging and Logan was staying to see Wade’s smile that shone like the sun. Except this time, where Logan was very focused on the fact that Wade was sitting in between his legs and he was trying to not let it affect him. (It was. He grabbed a pillow soon after.)

Safe to say, he’d abandoned the earlier plan to deal with his mating cycle. Even if he could do it, over the past week he found he didn’t want to. What he wanted to do was be a better person. For Laura, for Wade… For himself. So maybe he would ask for some help. Maybe he’d let Wade in more. That way, he’d know just who he keeps under his roof and demand him out.

And so, as he watched Wade look so soft in the morning light, he came up with a new plan. One his quickly emerging ‘wolverine brain’ was very happy with.

+

So far, he decided it was time to give in. He wasn’t one to give up but, Vanessa’s words still weighed on him like a boulder. If he told Wade how he felt, then the merc would leave him for someone better. He’d see how wrong he was to let in such a disgusting animal and push him out. That way he wouldn’t get hurt just by being close to Logan.

People don’t change, Wolverine. You were an animal then and you’re an animal now. I just gave you claws.

He’d come to this conclusion as he sat on a stick bar stool drinking his memories and emotions away.

The alcohol wasn’t working like usual. But at least it provided a way to crush the way his heart swooned for the merc.

Instead of drowning the memories and horrible feelings out, the buzz only amplified the emotions flooding his system. It brought up memories he was convinced were dead and gone.

Flashes of previous lovers and holding their dead bodies.

 Flashes of his dead family.

Flashes of Wade in the timeripper. All alone. He knew his mind was playing a trick on him but he couldn’t help but see, in his mind’s eye, Wade blinking out of existence while Logan banged on the door. Dread filled his lungs, he’d failed another being he cared for.

Flashes of Stryker and the sinking feeling that he was right all along.

While he hated Stryker for everything he did to him, to his family and to his friends, of course the man who revealed the reality of the monster James “Logan” Howlett was right. He could never change. Not now, not ever. He’s dangerous, a beast just waiting to bite although he doesn’t quite know why.

He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes. He was never one for crying but the helplessness clawed its way up his throat, bringing tears to his eyes. The inevitably of hurting those around him sank deep within his heart, a steady reminder.

“But you’re not so dangerous anymore. You can’t hurt Wade. You can’t hurt Laura. You just need to let it go,” Hope spoke up again in his mind. Logan took a shot of whiskey to drown it out, the bar he was currently in wasn’t helping at all. He reminded himself, “You can always hurt. It’s in your nature.”

And how could anyone like him ever be loved.

Chapter Text

Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised, habits are hard to break.

Did it hurt a little waking up from a nap to find that his newly adopted Wolvie was nowhere to be seen? Yeah. Of course, it did.

Wade couldn’t deny the slight ache in his heart when he cracked open his eyes after falling asleep in the middle of My Little Pony (the Equestria Girls movies which weren’t nearly as good as the original but still he needed his “friendship is magic” fix) to find that the man had left in the middle of his sleep, leaving the movie playing. “The least he could’ve done was pause the movie…”

His entire body ached from sitting for so long, the sun now high in the sky and the couch long gone cold. There were no familiar heavy footsteps padding around the apartment, only Al’s shuffling and Mary Puppins’ paws. No note on the coffee table. Not even a familiar shadow on the fire escape smoking.

For one blissful moment he considered that maybe Logan was just out on a run, he had to keep up his hard abs (just like Wade’s dick every time he saw them.) It would make logical sense, but since when was he ever logically sound? Nah, not MY Deadpool.

“Maybe he couldn’t stand you anymore, you dumb fuck. Not that he ever did in the first place. All you ever did was emotionally manipulate him and drag him away from his home. How are you any better than those who abused him before,” Wade’s own mind whispered to him.

In reality, the thought was so quiet that it could’ve been drowned out by the millions of other thoughts bouncing around in his brain, like bouncy balls. Heh, balls- But the minute the glimmer of despair appeared, everything else stopped. It was the only thing left.

His playful arguments with Al weren’t enough to drown it out in the morning (and like always Al could tell something was up, “Don’t go sulking because he went and got a life. I might not be able to see but I can smell the tension between you two. He’ll come back… so long as your weird ass didn’t scare him off.”)

Even as he went to Sister Margret’s to get a mission, it played in his head on repeat. It continued even as he washed the blood off in the shower, his whole day became a blur.

Wade, notorious for being dramatic, didn’t even shed a tear. Perhaps he accepted from the start that this would happen. It always did. Not that he could blame them, especially with his face looking like a testicle with teeth. Everyone was bound to leave him.

“You will die alone. I mean, if you could die. Ideally, for others’ sake,” Weasel’s voice in his mind added to the storm of self-hatred.

Even his father, a person who was supposed to love him unconditionally, walked out on him.

After all, his mom was always right. When confronted with a horrible situation, there are only two reactions that make sense: laughter or tears.

And laughter, after all, is nature’s anesthesia.

Tears hurt too much.

+

Honest to whatever god was out there, Logan didn’t know how he’d gotten this far. He’d fucked up enough and life just kept dealing him the worst cards. He didn’t deserve the blooming feeling in his chest seeing Wade sitting on the couch, snuggled in a blanket with ice cream.

He didn’t even know how he got to the apartment.

One minute he was throwing back drinks as the bartender shot him wary glances. The next, he’s fumbling with his keys in front of his home before eventually swinging the door open with a little too much force.

“Home…

“What a dangerous idea…”

An idea that came to mind when his eyes were drawn to the merc. Wade himself was dangerous and it was even more dangerous how safe and settled Logan felt there.

He couldn’t help the deep purr that emanated from deep within his chest, the world feeling fuzzy and warm around him. Or maybe that was Wade’s arms as Logan stumbled to the couch and practically fell onto the man.

+

Wade had barely enough time to move the ice cream in his lap out of the way as Logan slumped down as if his body was made of lead (it sort of was anyways. For all of you chemistry nerds out there, where would adamantium place on the periodic table?) onto him. Wade practically squeaked at the impact of Logan’s 300 pound body.

“Wolvie? I- What the-“ Wade began, his anger being dulled out by confusion and a tad bit of bliss as that stupidly handsome devil stared up at him with dazed eyes. Eyes that were so soft they looked like how the sun felt on his scars on a good day, a soothing balm to the throbbing pain in his cold mangled body.

Logan hummed at him, the sound emanating from his chest getting louder- wait a minute-

“Are you seeing this, pookies? THEE Wolverine is purring!! On me!!! If I wasn’t so confused I’d be soaking wet and fangirling right now,” Wade gasped, turning to look at you, “I didn’t even know he could do that! And I call myself a Wolvie expert, pfff- Silly Wade.”

Wade had to blink the tears away that threatened to spill out of pure joy. He was pretty sure his heart had a boner now.

For once Logan didn’t even question the words coming from the merc, only slowly blinked at him like a kitten with the utmost attention, as if he was some great prophet like the wonderful Regina George. His eyes were mostly black, only a slight ring of hazel around them. It seemed to make his eyes shine even more, as if even the stars were drawn into the sweetness in his eyes. Wade was getting lost in them too.

He pawed at the blanket around Wade’s shoulders, using his dangerous, dare I say even more dangerous than his claws, puppy eyes. If he wasn’t a stickler for consent and romantics, he would’ve kissed him deeply right there, maybe running his fingers through those kitten tufts in Logan’s hair.

“Angel baby, if you wanna get all comfy I’m gonna need to move and undo the pull-out-“ Logan only cocked his head to one side in confusion- “Orrrr we could sit here, yknow, that’s totally okay too. More than okay, wonderful-“

Once again he was cut off by the Wolverine in question. This time, Logan nudged the blanket off of Wade’s shoulder with his nose and nibbled the skin connecting Wade’s collarbone to his neck. Nothing to draw blood but enough to leave a small indent as if he was a chew toy. At the same time, he purred deeply, an action that continued to make Wade swoon.

 If anything, purrs did more than words ever did. It showed the deep care in him even if Logan didn’t admit it.

This was the one moment when Wade’s brain short circuited for a second and he just sat there being chewed for who knows how long. He didn’t know. His mind had gone blank, subjecting his body to an onslaught of nibbling, licking, and occasionally full-on biting to make a harsher dent in his skin.

When his brain booted up again, Logan had shifted so his whole body was on the couch and able to curl up in Wade’s lap, his head resting on the merc’s chest as he growled at poor Mary trying to get her hourly cuddles from her dearest Papá.

“Tsk, ‘Lo, you can’t be such a meanie to our precious little unicorn muffin. She deserves more kisses than a grump who’s been out all night and day without worrying if his wife is worrying for his safety. Gosh, Wolvie, you can’t be another dad who leaves for the groceries and never comes back! You can’t scare Mary like that!” Wade huffed, using enough force to push Logan off of him, allowing Mary to take his place.

The man only growled harder, baring his fangs at the sweet-little-baby-who-could-do-no-wrong. Logan’s claws peeked out from his knuckles before pulling back in. He had enough sense not to skin their child alive, Wade guessed.

With a huff, he sat at the other end of the creaky couch (now pull-out bed seeing as when he pushed Logan fully off the couch, he had enough time to set up), sulking. Wade could practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he plotted.

But Wade was too tired to care. Fuck him for being worried about his newest stray that stayed out past 2 AM and getting too tired to deal with the stray’s tantrums after.

+

Logan couldn’t help but swoon even as Wade pushed him away. Even as Logan glared at that fucking dog that took his place (he got there first after all), he couldn’t suppress the small smile that made its way onto his face.

How could he fight it when Wade was all soft edges, warm eyes, and a smile that filled Logan with butterflies?

Couldn’t even deny that he was getting lost in all of him.

He wasn’t even drunk anymore but his head still felt floaty watching the merc. He felt good. Safe, even. Able to let down his guard in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

“Wade’s here… everything will be okay. Can finally rest. Finally settle,” Logan thought, purring at the idea of it. His eyes closed slowly, and he let out a long sigh, his muscles relaxing into the mattress.

Deep down he knew he couldn’t help it, he never wanted to leave ever again. Fuck, he needed Wade in the way he needed air.

His silly dazed heart wanted to have Wade as his. Wanted to court him. With flowers, food, and gifts. Show Wade just how much he needed him. Wanted to start a family and grow old together. Wanted to give him the whole world.

It should’ve sent alarm bells blaring in his head at the idea of fully trusting someone enough to enter into a vulnerable state on his own conditions, not just collapsing. Not only fully trusting someone but fully trusting a mercenary. A very dangerous one at that.

That thought was quickly dispelled by a hand running through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. The fingers of said hand scratching behind Logan’s “kitty ears” (as Wade called them).

God, he turned into a puddle right then, his purring growing even louder. Tears crawled up into the corner of his eyes and as they fell, a hand wiped them away. He couldn’t remember who or what created him, but Logan was sure he’d never had this before. This soft touch and careful attention, he could easily get addicted to.

If this was a dream, it was a dream he was more than willing to spend eternity in.

+

ONE WEEK AND TWO DAYS INTO MATING SEASON

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, his chest still feeling warm and soft. Perhaps he could’ve stayed like that, oblivious to Wade clinging onto him but alas the merc startled awake, letting out a giant yawn.

Maybe if Logan went still or pretended to keep sleeping, this moment wouldn’t end. Wade could still be in his arms and Logan could forget who he was. The reality of what he does not able to reach him in Wade’s embrace. And maybe, just maybe, Logan could pretend that this is where he belonged, that Wade was his and he’d never have to lose anyone ever again.

Not that he’d ever admit that to himself or others. Those silly ideas were shoved deep in his ribcage despite knowing that one day, they force their way up.

Alas, like clockwork, the softness wore off and left him with a body made for killing and a fractured mind. How dare this beautiful man lay in Logan’s calloused, bloody hands. That heart of gold deserved a far better man than he. He didn’t deserve to exist in the same space.

And so, Logan watched Wade wake up with soft eyes and a heavy heart. This heart of stone cracked as the merc smiled at him, his smile lighting up the world wherever he went.

“I will do anything to make him smile like this again,” Logan thought, spacing out as Wade was talking to him. He was so lost in those eyes…

“Wolvie? Earth to Wolvie!! Honey-badger, you KNOW I don’t like being ignored,” Wade rambled, frowning and waving his hand in front of Logan’s face, shaking him out of the trance.

“Shit. Sorry,” Logan mumbled, “What’d ya want?”

“Well, my silly blissed-out honey-badger, I am willing to take you out. So, get dressed in those slutty pants and tank, then we can get out of here,” Wade hummed, practically jumping out of bed, excitement flowing through his body.

All Wolverine could do was nod, his head pounding from the inevitable hangover. He hadn’t noticed it at first as Wade’s mere presence distracted him with the ache in his heart. He liked pain, but this was an exception. It made him want to rip his heart out so he wouldn’t have to feel such dangerous things anymore.

“Where’re we goin’?” Logan groaned, rolling out of bed and walking over to the small closet. He dug through the mountain of clothes since Wade refused to hang his own clothes, leaving Logan to do it all.

Not that he minded. It warmed his heart to be able to help and earn his place.

“Can’t tell you that, Wolvie-baby, it’s a secret.”

Logan would never admit how much Wade’s pet names for him affected him. How they lit a fire in his body that was becoming harder to ignore. If he was alone, perhaps he’d indulge in these feelings and the ideas his instincts came up with. Ideas to mate with him and fill him with his litter. To satisfy Wade in a way no one else could. Ideas to claim Wade as his partner forever. Finally to have his other half, his reason to continue living for once. Truly unachievable ideas that Logan often pushed off to the side and pointedly didn’t think about when he stroked his dick alone in the shower. The harsh pelts of water helping him ignore the pang of loneliness he felt as he continued to settle down in a life he didn’t deserve.

Logan quickly carried his clothes to the bathroom, trying to put space between him, his feelings, and Wade; the cause for said feelings. Like always, he ran from his own thoughts and emotions. And, inevitably, the people he cared for.

+

In Dopinder’s taxi, Wade sat shotgun (literally calling “shotgun” the minute his friend pulled up to him and Logan at the apartment building) trying and failing to whisper to Dopinder about a carnival. Of course, forgetting that Logan had super hearing and was obviously eavesdropping in the backseat.

“Mr. Pool, I took Gita to this carnival last weekend. Alas, my romantic rival, as you know is Bandhu, and he escaped my grasp, and she brought him along. I know I said I would have killed him, but then the movie Interview with the Vampire, and he dug himself out of my backyard. My daffodils will never recover.  If my dear Gita had not been there, I would have run him over with my newly upgraded taxi,” Dopinder sighed, “I did not want to get her dress dirty with his blood.”

“Oh, my poor Indian friend, you should’ve finished him when you had the chance! Should’ve at least locked him in your medieval torture dungeon I’m sure you have. I know you’ve got that kind of blood lust in you,” Wade responded, waving his hands around, “But, don’t let that stop you from obtaining the girl of your dreams. Next time, just kill him in front of Gita. Seal the deal on the whole ‘sweet cinnamon roll that won’t hesitate to kill.’ It’s totally your vibe.”

“Wade, stop encouraging Dopinder to kill his cousin,” Logan murmured loud enough for Wade to hear and kicked his seat.

Wade gasped, turning to look back at Wolverine with the most offended expression possibly shown through his Deadpool mask, “Peanut! I’m training him to be a contract killer. It’s his life-long dream. Plus, I’m helping my friend with the most serious of problems, love. Are you saying I shouldn’t help others with my Marvel Jesus wisdom?”

Logan chose to ignore this and hide the smile that twitched on his lips, opting to stare out the window instead, causing Wade to scoff before going back to his conversation.

“Anywhos, any suggestions where I can take my grumpy little honey-badger?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Pool! There’s a couple places where you can take photos-“

Eventually, Logan also tuned them out while he wished he was back in their bed.

+

Soon, they arrived at what seemed to be a large arena. The long drive mixed with waking up late had made it seem like time passed too fast and the sun was beginning to set. They’d gotten breakfast and then lunch on the way there, picking up food from different drive-ins. Did Logan wish he was at home instead cooking for Wade, Althea, and Mary Puppins? Fuck, yeah. But, he tried to remind himself that his usual routine could start up again tomorrow. One change couldn’t fuck up everything right? Even if it seemed like a monumental change as they drove up to the carnival.

Logan didn’t know where they were, he could tell they were in the right place. The bright lights and heavy bass basically screaming Wade. The man himself seemed to be illuminated by it, his eyes sparkling as he exited the cab and took off his mask to fully take in the experience.

…Was it wrong to wish Wade dragged him anywhere else? His head already pounded even though they weren’t in the thick of it yet. The combination of scents, from beer to smells of sex clogged his nostrils. He could feel his hackles rise and his mind retreat to a space where this all drained away. But, seeing Wade so happy, he tried to stay as present as possible. He clenched his jaw and steeled himself against the walls of overstimulation.

Reduced to deeper, primal sounds, he growled and bared his teeth as Wade tried to grab his arm to lead Logan into the line to enter the event. He didn’t mean to, but he could see the merc’s face fall before picking up his mask of false cheer again.

Guilt gnawed at Logan and he dug his fingers into his crossed arms, his claws peeking out in between his knuckles. His eyes blurred slightly while his feet moved to keep up with Wade. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. At least not while he was still sober.

+

Wade continued to glance back at Logan, slowing down to match the Wolverine’s pace. Fuck, he knew most of the carnival wasn’t for Logan, but he’d at least hoped they would be able to make it to the Downtown sector. There, they could go to the silent disco and drink fancy drinks. Maybe, he’d even get to see Logan relax and dance with him. They could combine their worlds, just like in the Void.

He tried to keep his hopes up as they inched towards the end of the line, so close to a safe space. Alas, as they came closer, the music seemed to grow louder and the smells even stronger to the point where even Wade, with his damaged sense of smell, could smell them. Scratch that, he could practically taste it.

His Peanut followed closer and closer behind the merc, keeping his eyes down. His back hunched and his kitten tufts even seemed to flatten despite just being hair. His hands were trembling as the gripped with strength Wade had never seen Logan use before, bruising his arms in such a way that those bruises refused to heal and he pressed new ones in.

“Hey, ‘Lo? Yknow, I waited like 4 months for this event. Got us signed up early and everything. I know it isn’t your shot of whiskey (haha cup of tea but it’s whiskey, I’m hilarious), but there’s a-a dance I think you’ll like. There’s some headphones with different types of music, so you can listen to your 2000s dad rock like the slut you are, or take ‘em off and laugh at us dancing in silence-“ Wade began to ramble before quickly shutting up. His partner in crime was covering his ears with his hands, staring past Wade.

How it broke Wade’s heart to see the moment Logan shut down, his eyes going completely glossy and pain etched his face.

“You’re being too much again. What were you thinking picking this? Can’t you think of anyone else for just a second? God, Wade, stop being so selfish. All you’re doing is hurting him. He probably feels indebted to you. He doesn’t actually want to stay here. Soon enough he’ll leave like everyone else. How much time does it have to take before you realize that the common denominator is you-”

As if sensing this spiral, Logan bumped Wade’s side slightly. It probably wasn’t intentional, but Wade was just delusional enough to think that he did mean it. That Logan, through his own pain, saw Wade hurting and stopped him, just like he always does. Always a helping hand, shutting down Wade’s criticisms of himself and the nasty comments strangers gave Wade. Breaking down the steel door to the Time Ripper to save a person he didn’t really know nor a universe he gave a shit about. Despite being a raging alcoholic with mountains of trauma, he cared. Cared enough to take care of Wade on his bad days. Cared enough to stop the merc from stretching himself too thin and stopping him from self-harming. Never for a second did Wade regret calling after Logan, and this belief strengthened with every passing day.

They were at the front of the line finally and he already had a sinking feeling about this.

“Hey,” Wade began, talking to the staff at the front, “my bestie here can’t go through the metal detector because… he has steel plates in him! Can you let this slide just this once, pretty please?”

“If we give an exception to him, everyone will want one. I ain’t tryin’ to lose my job. We can just do a pat-down instead,” The on-the-brink-of-retirement staff member grumbled, putting on gloves and walking towards Logan.

+

It happened in slow motion.

Logan’s senses were bombarded from all sides.

His eyesight wobbly with pain and his ears picked up on everything which just made the sounds blend together. If one more thing was shoved into his senses, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He didn’t pick up on the man’s steps. Didn’t pick up on the voices around him. Couldn’t smell the calming scent of Wade through the way his nose burned at different scents.

All Logan picked up was a strange man, a man who looked far too similar to Romulus, walking towards him with a black stick. He didn’t know what that stick did nor what this Not-Romulus wanted with him. It was all okay because he could handle this. He could take it like always. It didn’t matter what he felt when he couldn’t die. He was just an animal, a rabid beast.

Until it wasn’t okay.

The Not-Romulus reached for him, the black stick in the other hand, and all Logan could see was the past abuse he endured. Abuse he didn’t even remember.

Not-Romulus morphed into Romulus and held a syringe filled with some strange purple liquid. Logan’s senses screamed at him that this wasn’t okay but what could he do? Romulus was always ten steps ahead, always finding new and interesting ways to create Logan into his perfect weapon. His perfect lap dog that he could point in any direction and get it to kill.

Logan couldn’t even fight as the syringe was pressed into his neck and emptied. Romulus stroked the side of his face, smiling even wider when Logan shuddered at the touch. Somehow this horror from a past Logan couldn’t even remember had come back to haunt him. He’d caught Logan during a fight he’d arranged and dragged Logan to fuck knows where.

“You hopeless mutt. Couldn’t help pretending to be the shepherd to the innocent sheep around you. But, you know, as well as I, that you will always be a predator. A wolf stalking in the shadows, doing what it was made to do,” Romulus growled, gripping Logan’s face to make him look at him, “But, the poor little wolf wants to be accepted so he lies and hides in the disguise of a shepherd. He doesn’t want to hurt anymore but it’s in his nature. It’s part of his master’s command to hurt. Instead of accepting this, he fights it. He is a bad, bad dog. Do you know what happens to bad mutts that disobey? They get put down like the worthless fucks they are.”

Fear rolled over Logan in waves, his eyes wide with fear and tears on the brink of falling. His mind tried to force him to a different place but all he saw was the pain he caused to so many. Future pain he’d cause to his family.

Tied to the wall, his claws drawn, Logan watched in horror as Romulus pulled out surgical tools and slowly cut into his arm. Whatever was in that syringe, it was keeping his healing factor at bay. Layers of skin sliced open with his muscles and fat shown. From this, Romulus cut each individual muscle and layer of fat and held the wounds open with some sort of clips. Those thick fingers reaching in to grab at his adamantium bones, pulling at his claws harshly causing excruciating pain in Logan’s hand. He couldn’t draw his claws back; he couldn’t stop it all. The worst part was his mind wouldn’t let him fall and protect him from this. He was forced to feel this, and he felt everything.

+

Wade watched, frozen in place, as the staff member touched Logan’s shoulder and the mutant flinched back, claws drawn. His eyes were wide and unseeing. He didn’t see as the man tried to draw back, he only slashed causing the man to fall backward. The slash had the man’s forearm coming clean off.

While everyone rushed to his side and tried to get the bleeding to stop, Wade watched as Logan’s eyes cleared, wide with horror before turning and running.

Wade watched as Logan disappeared into a dark alley and all Wade could feel was guilt. Maybe if he hadn’t brought Logan here, none of this wouldn’t have happened. An arm wouldn’t be separated from a person’s body, a mutant wouldn’t be traumatized and given more reasons to end it all, and this moment wouldn’t be another case to use against mutants.

It was stupid and selfish but Wade hung his head, eyes boring into the ground as he wallowed in self-loathing.