Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Logan's relationship with Wade was . . . complicated. Wade once called it a “situationship”, whatever the fuck that meant. 

And that was a problem because Logan didn’t like complicated. He had always been a simple guy with simple needs and simple solutions to problems - he was far more likely to run into a fight claws first than ask around to see if the fight even needed to happen. 

Sure, that didn’t always work out well for him. He’d been twisted into a goddamn metal pretzel by Magneto enough fucking times to have learned that lesson. 

Sometimes, there were better ways to approach a problem - but if that was the case, Logan was not the guy to ask.

Trying to find alternative methods was complicated and between being always semi-drunk and semi-concussed, too fucking old to care, and too fucking tired, Logan avoided complicated as often as he could.

Which is why this whole thing with Wade was driving him fucking crazy.

Logan was over 200 fucked up years old - too old to be waffling back and forth in a ‘will they’ ‘won’t they’ type relationship with another fully grown man. Especially when that man was Wade fucking Wilson, the very type of person who usually drove Logan absolutely up the fucking wall.

And Wade did drive him up the fucking wall, but well, it was more. . . complicated than that.

Logan hadn’t really come up with a plan or given much thought to how he wanted to handle whatever it was he and Wade were doing. He had accepted - after much internal debate and far too many beers - that he did want it. Whatever ‘it’ was.

He liked the company, the constant presence of another person at his side who didn’t care about all of his bullshit and just liked having him around.

He liked the consistency, having a place he could come back to, falling into the same bed every night (give or take the nights when he decided to sleep with Wade in his bed rather than the couch.)

He liked Wade’s attitude towards life, always wanting to try new things, always excited to meet new people, always wanting to force Logan to come with him even when Logan complained. 

He liked that Wade had the uncanny ability to pull him back into himself, to reach past all the walls he hastily shoved up to drag the real Logan back out.

He liked the intimacy, the casual way Wade would lay his head on Logan’s shoulder, or wrap his arms around Logan’s waist, or press quick kisses to his cheeks when he thought Logan wasn’t paying attention. And the Wolverine loved it, having a mate who was okay with being touched and held and scented, who didn’t shy away from the most animalistic parts of Logan’s mutation.

And he liked the sex. Fuck, did he like the sex. 

He’d never been able to let himself truly go with his previous partners. There’d always been the alarm bells in the back of his head, warning him to be careful, to slow down, hold back his strength - fight against every instinct in his body or risk hurting the person he was trying to make feel good.

Logan had always liked sex, but it was never an easy thing to do unless he was so blackout fucking drunk that he wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

With Wade it was easy, so fucking easy. Logan didn’t have to worry about hurting him, or killing him, or having Wade be scared off by his more aggressive desires. Wade was always so willing and sweet, so fucking sensitive and hot , so fucking good it made Logan’s teeth itch with the urge to bite just thinking about for too long.

But what did any of that make them? 

Boyfriends? Too fucking juvenile, like they were in highschool or some shit, two kids with a crush shoving notes into each other’s lockers. (Not that Logan ever went to highschool, but he’d been forced to watch some movies with Wade so he was familiar with the cliches.)

Partners? Better, but too sterile, like their relationship was a business transaction. And in the superhero world, partner could have an entirely different meaning, and the idea of having to make that distinction every time made Logan’s head hurt.

Friends with benefits? Yeah, absolutely fucking not.

And more than anything else, more than not knowing what to call it or how to articulate it in words anyone would understand - Logan was afraid.

Afraid that if he took this thing, this weird, complicated, tenuous fucking thing they had going on and tried to stick a label on it. . . that might fuck it all up. Like trying to slam a square peg into a round hole until the entire thing shattered into a million pieces.

He was more afraid of losing this thing they had than he was of leaving it be. Even when Wade very obviously tried to steer it in a direction, like the invite to the bar - Logan had known immediately what Wade was really trying to say, that it was a date, and Logan hadn’t minded it, really. 

But letting something like that happen was one thing, sitting down and ‘talking it out’ was a whole other.

Talking wasn’t Logan’s strong suit. If they tried to define this thing, living together, having sex, going on dates, and Logan said the wrong thing? If he and Wade weren’t on the same wavelength, if Wade wanted something Logan didn’t know if he could give?

Well, he would just be ruining it like he’d ruined every single other thing in his life he’d ever cared about. So he left it alone.

Unfortunately for Logan, not everyone else had the same idea.

***

“So,” Laura said, flipping to the next page of her magazine. “I heard you and Wade went on a date.”

Logan and Laura were at a hair salon, sitting on the creaky plastic chairs in the entrance area while they waited for Logan’s turn. 

In the past few months, he’d really neglected his appearance. Not intentionally, but given the only people he saw on a consistent basis were Althea, who was blind, and Wade, who had no room to talk, well, he’d fallen behind. He would have just let it be, but upon seeing Laura for their weekly meetup, she’d given him a quick up and down look, frowned, and then tugged him along the street towards the nearest salon.

At Laura’s words, Logan tensed involuntarily, and he could see Laura noticing the movement out of the corner of her eye.

“Wade told Althea about it, and she told me,” Laura continued when Logan didn't offer any response. “Seems like it went pretty well.”

Her not-so-subtle prying didn't earn her any more results the second time, besides Logan hunching slightly forward and hoping making himself smaller would mean he'd be a less obvious target for her questions. 

Laura sighed and lowered the magazine onto her lap, shooting Logan an annoyed look with a raised eyebrow. “You did know it was a date, right?”

“I was aware,” Logan answered, folding his hands together to form a fist. 

“ And ?”

“And what?”

“How do you feel about that?”

Logan bowed his head, staring at his clenched hands. He let out a heavy breath, taking in the stinging scent of chemicals, knowing Laura wouldn't stop poking around until she got the answers she was looking for.

“I’ll be honest, Laura,” Logan said, voice heavy with the weight of the hours he’d spent asking himself that same question, turning his head just enough to speak in the direction of the open magazine. “I really, honest to God, have no fucking idea.”

Laura hummed, closing the magazine and setting it to the side. Logan very suddenly wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, or that the hair stylist would finally call his fucking name so he could avoid having this conversation. 

“And you’re going on another one?”

“What?”

“The aquarium,” Laura said. “Althea said Wade was really excited about it.”

“Yeah, I guess we are doing that.”

“ You don’t sound too excited about it.”

“It’s not that, I just . . .” Logan sat back up, tilting his head towards the ceiling as if the words he was trying to find might fall into his mouth. “Like I said, I don’t fucking know. I’m over 200 goddamn years old, too old to be ‘dating’ or fucking around with someone or whatever the fuck is going on.”

“I -”

“And definitely too fucking old to be getting advice about it from a twelve year old,” Logan snapped, regretting the words almost as soon as he said them. 

Talking about this shit always made his heart start jackhammering in his chest like it was trying to escape his body, made his palms start to sweat, made him itch to shotgun down a twelve pack of beer without taking time to breath in between each one. 

“Sorry,” he quickly added, pressing a palm against his chest over his heart, feeling its thundering gait.

“You remind me a lot of him, sometimes,” she said, voice low and fond. Logan jerked his head to look at her, catching the playful glint in her eyes, alive with memories of a life Logan would never really know, with another version of himself.

Laura huffed, shaking her head, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “First, I’m 19,” she continued. “Second, you’re right. I don’t have any advice to give you.” At Logan’s pointed stare, Laura shrugged. “I don’t know anything about dating. You have to figure whatever it is you have going on with Wade. But you don’t always have to do it by yourself, tonto. ”

Luckily, Logan was saved from having to come up with a response by the hairdresser finally calling his name. He stood to follow the woman towards the back, catching Laura throwing him a wink out of the corner of his eye. He walked forward, feeling his heart begin to slow its chaotic rhythm, knowing that what Laura said was true - he wasn’t alone anymore, he had other people he could talk to.

Whether or not he actually would was still up for debate. 

***

The morning of their trip to the aquarium, Wade was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. He’d spent at least an hour and a half the day before - Logan was annoyed he’d actually kept track - putting together his outfit, tossing clothes all over their apartment and causing numerous tripping hazards for Althea until she had snapped at him to cut it out.

His energy was almost a tangible thing, like hitting two pieces of metal together and feeling your teeth shake in your mouth. Logan couldn’t tell if all of Wade’s anticipation was just from the idea of going to an aquarium - surely a fully grown ass man wasn’t practically pissing himself with excitement to see some fucking fish, right? - or because he was going with Logan, but either way he became a terror in the apartment during the build up to them leaving.

It had taken Logan pushing Wade onto the bed and getting his teeth on his throat to finally have him calm down - even then, during the whole time they ended up messing around Wade still had a stupid fucking grin on his face that Logan knew was only partially because he was getting his dick sucked.

Wade had woken up early enough to make Logan growl at him to go back to sleep, hair stuck up in wild tufts and eyes only partially open. He’d tried to reach for Wade, pull him back against Logan’s front so they could both get some more shut eye, but Wade had rolled away and gotten onto his feet, then fucked off to do something Logan couldn’t really give a shit about.

By the time Logan had finally crawled out of bed, frown firmly in place and wearing only his underwear, Wade was already fully dressed and pacing around the apartment, listing off all the activities the aquarium offered like he was trying to sell a fucking time share. Logan pushed him out of the way with the grunt to start the coffee machine, trying to drown Wade out.

“-oh, and you can touch the stingrays! Like put your hand in the water and actually touch them! I bet they feel fucking weird, like slimy or something, I can’t wait to find out. OH, and there’s -”

Logan grabbed Wade by the back of the neck, dragging him into a messy, slightly tired kiss. He slid his tongue past Wade’s lips lazily, tasting Wade’s small whimper in response. He moved one of his hands down Wade’s side to grab at his lower back, holding him in place while he explored Wade’s mouth. 

Wade put his arm around Logan’s shoulders, pulling him closer and sliding his tongue against Logan’s, teasing. Logan let out a low purr, using his hold on Wade’s back to push their hips closer together.

Logan felt himself start to get hard and briefly toyed with the idea of heading out a little later - the aquarium would still be there in a couple of hours, after Logan had time to get Wade squirming on his cock, whimpering and begging for more, too focused on getting fucked to even care about any godforsaken fucking stingrays.

Wade pulled their mouths apart with a pop , breathing heavily in the air between them. Logan moved his hand down, squeezing a handful of Wade’s ass and leaning forward with half-lidded eyes to reconnect their kiss, but Wade’s fingers grabbed onto his jaw, holding him in place.

His smirk was playful and coy as he looked through his eyelashes at Logan, dragging his tongue across his own lips. Logan followed the movement like an animal stalking its prey, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“You know, Wolvie,” Wade said, leaning in just an inch closer. “Fish also kiss sometimes, but it’s not romantic, it’s to assert dominance. Isn’t that crazy?”

Logan shoved Wade away from him so hard, Wade stumbled head over ass onto the couch, landing in a groaning heap sprawled out across the cushions. “I’m going to fucking kill you one day,” Logan grumbled, turning his attention back to the coffee machine and willing his erection down with all his might.

Why on God’s green fucking shit riddled earth did he have to be attracted to Wade fucking Wilson of all people?

“Are you two idiots done sucking face?” Althea said from the doorway of her room, still dressed in her sleep clothes with a bathrobe over top. “It’s too early in the morning for this shit.”

“Sorry, Althea,” Wade said from the couch, waving an apologetic hand in the air above his body.

“If you are both finished being fucking morons, Logan, I need your help reaching something in my closet.”

“I can help,” Wade said, rolling off the couch and onto the floor with a thud. “Just give me like two seconds to see if I sprained any ribs.”

“Did I ask for your help?” Althea snapped, slapping her hand against the doorframe. “No. Now shut the fuck up for five seconds, and Logan, get the hell over here.”

Confused, but reluctant to actually piss Althea off, Logan turned off the coffee machine and walked over to her room, slipping inside just as she shut the door behind her.

“What do you need me to get?”

“Nothing,” Althea said, moving forward until her hand slid against the surface of her bed. She turned and sat down on it, looking in Logan’s direction. 

“Then why-”

“Because I need to fucking tell you something without shit-for-brains hearing it.”

Logan nodded for her to continue, then realizing his mistake, said, “Go ahead.”

“I need you to take this shit seriously.”

“What the fuck, I just told you to go ahead -”

“No, you fucking meathead,” Althea huffed, shaking her head. “I mean this aquarium thing.”

Logan groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. Why was everyone so fucking obsessed with this shit? “I’m already going, okay, what the fuck else do you -”

“Wade’s mom used to take him to an aquarium when he was little,” Althea said, cutting him off. “He won’t tell you the story, but I’ve had to hear it a hundred times when he gets piss drunk and starts crying all over me.”

Logan sighed, glancing briefly at the door to make sure Wade wasn’t trying to sneakily listen on the other side of it, then joined Althea on the bed.

“It was a short time after she’d gotten out of rehab, when his dad had fucked off out of their lives for a few months and she was clean. She couldn’t afford a babysitter, but the aquarium sold an annual pass and the place is so big they didn’t really fucking notice a kid wandering around by himself for hours every other day.”

“She just left him there?”

“She had to go to work,” Althea said with a shrug. “Dropped him off in the morning, picked him up before it closed. Gave him a couple bucks to get some food, let him wander. Sometimes, she would stay with him for a little bit, let him show her his favorite fish, then she’d go.”

Logan hummed, unsure of what to say. He’d known Wade’s childhood was shit - Wade had said as much enough times, but it was also pretty easy to fucking tell from the way he acted. Wade had never given any specifics, though, and the raw reality of it explained why. 

“Only lasted for a bit before she fell off the wagon again.” Althea paused, taking a soft breath. “She ran out of money, so they had to move away from the city. He begged to go back but by that point, it was too late. For both the aquarium and for her.”

Althea placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “He doesn’t like talking about it. Hell, he doesn’t like even fucking thinking about it. But he only ever asks people he really cares about to go. Asked me to go but well,” she waved a hand in front of her face and Logan chuckled. 

“I had to let him down easy. I tell you all this shit because whether I like it or not, I care about that fucking moron and I need you,” she squeezed down on his shoulder with a shocking amount of strength, “to not fuck it up for him, you understand? This means too much.”

“Okay, fuck,” Logan said, pulling his shoulder out of her grip. “I get it. I’ll fucking. . . try, alright?”

“Good,” Althea said, smiling. “Now get the fuck out of my room and take him the hell out of this apartment. If I have to hear the word ‘fish’ one more time I’m going to start hitting things.”

“You and me both,” Logan mumbled, standing up to leave. “Thanks for. . . looking out for him, I guess.”

“Someone’s gotta make sure that moron doesn’t get himself killed,” Althea chuckled. “Permanently, anyway.”

Logan exited Althea’s room to see Wade standing in the kitchen with an open thermos on the counter and two of Logan’s beers next to it.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“They don’t sell alcohol at the aquarium,” Wade said, popping the top off one of the beers and pouring it into the thermos with a focused stare. “I figured you would probably want some while we were in there and they generally frown on bringing your own for some reason. Do you think fish can get drunk?”

The gesture made Logan’s face feel warm and he was torn between his earlier anger at Wade for being a fucking idiot and the sudden intense returning desire to bend him over the couch.

“I don’t think so,” Logan said, going back over to the coffee machine. He needed to wake the fuck up some more if he was going to be dealing with this shit all day, and especially if he needed to be nice about it.

After two cups of coffee and a solid minute of pouting from Wade while Logan got dressed, they were ready to go. Wade was standing eagerly by the door, bouncing with excitement. Thankfully, he’d opted for his more casual outfit today, a pair of dark blue sweatpants, tennis shoes, and a matching hoodie with a beanie. He had a small Spiderman themed backpack flung over one shoulder with the beer thermos tucked into the side pocket.

Logan dressed similarly covert, in a pair of jeans, a bomber jacket Laura had gotten him, a baseball cap, and a pair of sunglasses. 

The last thing he needed was a bunch of people swarming them in the aquarium because he got recognized. Going out in public always made his skin itch, but an enclosed, crowded place like an aquarium seemed like a recipe for disaster. 

They headed downstairs, Wade continuing his spiel from earlier about all the things they could do, while Logan nodded along. When they exited their apartment, Dopinder was waiting with his cab to pick them up.

On the way over, Wade leaned forward in between the seats to chat with Dopinder, who was much more receptive to Wade’s fish facts than Logan. 

Head against the window, Logan tuned them both out, watching the world pass by behind the glass. Something about the sound of Wade’s voice always seemed to soothe his anxiety, especially when Logan didn’t have to actively listen to the words he was saying.

Logan felt a warm pressure against him and glanced over to see Wade had pressed his forehead against Logan’s shoulder. “I’m glad you are coming with me,” Wade mumbled into Logan’s jacket, the sort of vulnerable Logan wasn’t used to seeing from the other man.

“Yeah, me too,” Logan responded after a moment, and realized he actually meant it. 

Did he want to go to the aquarium? No, not really. Not at all, to be completely honest. But with Wade looking up at him like that, eyes happy and trusting - Logan could admit he wanted to be around Wade, wherever that was, and if it so happened to be at an aquarium, well, he could learn to live with it.

Logan was struck with the sudden desire to kiss Wade, but with Dopinder occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror, he didn’t dare.

“Oh, shit, we’re here!” Wade yelled, scrambling over Logan’s lap to get the door open.

“Wade, fucking, get off of me,” Logan growled, pushing Wade out of the car and onto the sidewalk, where he landed with a dopey grin on his face. Wade quickly scrambled to his feet and pointed at the front of the building.

“Look!”

Logan looked up at the imposing building, a towering multi-storied grey structure covered in blue tinted windows and white wave designs. Across the entrance hung a massive banner with the words, “SEAlebrate the Ocean!” in a large bubbly font. A wide set of stone stairs led up to the front doors where a handful of scattered groups stood, some in matching school shirts.

Logan turned to see Wade reaching in the passenger’s side window to give Dopinder a high five before he turned and came over to Logan. “Okay, Wolvie, let’s go!”

Logan started to walk towards the staircase, pulling his baseball cap a little lower on his head, but Wade grabbed his bicep and yanked him to a stop. “No, no, babycakes, we’re not going in the front.”

“What?”

“They have security in the front. Bag checks, guards, metal detectors. ” Wade stressed the last word, giving Logan a pointed look. “I figured you wouldn’t want to cause a scene, and I don’t want them confiscating your gogo juice.”

“Don’t ever call it that again,” Logan grumbled, quietly appreciative of Wade’s unexpected foresight. The baseball cap and glasses wouldn’t do shit at hiding his identity if he set off the metal detector like a Christmas tree. “So where do we go?”

“Follow me!” Wade tugged Logan towards the side of the building, past all the school groups and other visitors to slip around a corner. A little ways further down there was what looked like a maintenance door with a keypad next to it and multiple signs warning about it being an entrance for employees only. 

Wade walked confidently up to the door and banged on it four times, grinning at Logan. “I called in a favor.”

After a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal what appeared to be an employee at the aquarium with a white polo and khaki pants, holding an envelope in one hand and the door open with the other. 

“You’re late.”

“Check the attitude, Jeremy, ” Wade said, pushing past the guy to enter the building, gesturing for Logan to follow. They were in some sort of back supply room, with towering metal shelves and cleaning supplies. “Or you’re not getting the good stuff.”

Jeremy grumbled, shutting the door firmly behind them and running a hand through his unkempt blond hair. “Just hand it over already, okay? Or I’m tossing these tickets.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Wade tutted, swinging his Spiderman backpack around so it was across his chest. 

“So is being on time.”

“I’m not sure about that one.” Wade dug around in the bag for a moment, tongue poking between his teeth in concentration, until he pulled out a sealed ziplock bag full of white powder. “There we are. Straight from Al’s stash, so you know it’s good.”

“You’re paying him off with Althea’s cocaine?” Logan said, half impressed and half shocked that Wade would do something so incredibly fucking stupid. If Althea found out, Wade was fucking dead.

“I’m exchanging a favor for a favor,” Wade corrected, holding out the bag towards Jeremy. “And what Althea doesn’t know, she doesn’t know!”

“Your fucking funeral,” Logan muttered under his breath, watching as Jeremy snatched the drugs and slapped the envelope into Wade’s hand.

“Just make sure it's a closed casket, I’ll be unrecognizable when she’s finished with me. Oh, and I want roses for the flowers. And Cheesecake Factory catering.”

“Make sure you don’t cause any problems while you’re inside,” Jeremy said, already heading towards the door leading into the building. “If anyone finds out I’m the one who let you in, I’ll be fired for sure.” He leveled Logan with a heavy look, turning the handle on the door.  “Make sure your boyfriend stays out of trouble.”

Then he stepped out, closing the door and leaving Wade and Logan by themselves. 

Wade opened the envelope and pulled out two printed out tickets  and two smaller cards with pictures of stingrays on them. “I had him throw in the stingray feeding experience, too, it costs extra, can you believe it?”

Logan wanted to point out that the amount of cocaine Wade had just handed over was worth FAR more money than two tickets to an aquarium and an extra activity, but he kept his mouth shut, instead heading for the door Jeremy had left through. “We doing this, or what?”

“I knew you would start to get into it,” Wade teased, briefly brushing his fingers against Logan’s hand as he moved past him to throw open the door. He took in a deep breath, hands on his hips and grinning like a maniac.

“I can smell the fun already!”

All Logan could smell was fish, cleaning supplies, and Wade’s body wash, but he nodded along anyway.

What happened next was a whirlwind of stimulation Logan hadn’t experienced since he and Wade almost got torn apart molecule by molecule. Maybe he was getting old - well, older, he was already fucking old - but he never remembered any of the trips he took with Xavier’s school being this intense or exhausting.

Wade was an unstoppable ball of energy, sprinting up to tanks and pressing his face against them to stare up at whatever sea creature was inside with big, round eyes. If he didn’t know any better, Logan might have assumed Wade had huffed a whole bag of cocaine himself before they arrived - Wade usually acted like that, but this was turned up to hundred.

Logan tried to stay out of the way first, away from the crowds of children and tourists crowding around the tank. He could see the fish just fine from the back, and to be completely honest, a lot of them looked the same to him. Freaky eyed and flat.

Wade quickly caught onto this move and took to grabbing Logan’s arm and pulling him to the front with him, shoving past whoever was in their way to get a good view. Logan mumbled a handful of apologies, but didn’t resist. 

Most people just rolled their eyes and tugged their children out of the way, and the handful who tried to push the issue were either quelled by Logan’s warning glare or by them actually getting a proper look at Wade’s face. As fucked as it was, people assuming Wade was a burn victim or really, really sick usually made them apologize and leave or pull their children away with concerned frowns. 

It didn’t really fucking matter; Logan actually preferred it. Less people around meant less staring, less of a chance of anyone recognizing either of them - and less of a chance of anyone seeing the way Logan watched Wade, bathed in the blue light of the water, talking at a mile a minute while his fingers flew across the glass, eyes bright and alive and happy.

Logan couldn’t tell you the name of a single fucking fish in the building, but he memorized the way the movement of the water reflected onto Wade’s skin, the shape of his smile, the feel of his fingers tugging at Logan’s wrist to get his attention.

A feeling grew inside Logan’s chest, warm and startling, like a heat spreading across his heart. He scratched at his shirt, like he could dig the sensation out through his skin, but when that didn’t work, he pulled the thermos out of Wade’s backpack and took several long gulps.

“Look, Wolvie, the jellyfish alcove is empty, let’s fucking go,” Wade said, sprinting off towards  a cutout in one of the walls that seemed to lead down a large tunnel. Logan recapped the thermos and went to follow after him, but his foot hit something hard and he almost fell over. 

“What the hell?” He glanced down, seeing a toy firetruck at his feet toppled onto its side. He bent down to pick it up, turning it over to see if he had accidentally broken it, but the whole thing seemed intact. 

He looked up just in time to see a kid running towards him, little legs working at full speed. He seemed no older than six, maybe seven, in a striped red shirt, jeans, and a pair of light up race car sneakers. His brown hair was a mess on his head, like he’d rubbed it against a pillow to make it all stand on end. 

“That’s mine!” the kid said, pointing at the firetruck with all the conviction his little body could muster.

“Here,” Logan said, crouching down and holding out the toy.

The boy took it from Logan and then clutched it to his chest, looking at Logan’s face with curious eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Try not to drop it again, okay? Wouldn’t want you to lose it.”

As Logan went to stand up, the kid reached out, placing a small hand on Logan’s knee and stopping him. “Are you a superhero?” the kid asked, staring at Logan like the fish in the tanks, unblinking and intense.

“Uhhh. . .” Logan started, unsure of how to answer that question.

“He sure is!” Wade said, appearing behind Logan and placing a hand on Logan’s head. “You’ve got a good eye, kid. He’s the Wolverine. Cool, huh?”

Logan turned towards Wade, a growl forming in his throat. “What are you doing?” he hissed in a low voice, knocking Wade’s hand off his head.

“I wondered what was keeping you,” Wade said, crouching down beside him. He turned his attention back to the kid. “He fights crime like all the time.”

“Wow,” the kid said, eyes wide with awe, looking at Logan like he’d single handedly hung the moon in the sky. He then leaned forward, eyes darting to the left and the right, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Are you undercover?”

“Yes,” Wade nodded, cupping his hand next to his mouth to stage whisper. “So you gotta keep his secret identity a secret, okay? We have a lot of work to do.”

The kid nodded furiously. “I will! I promise!”

Wade held out his hand for a high five and the kid returned the gesture, then looked over to Logan, who repeated the move. “Good job, kid. Now where’s your-?”

“Evan!”

All three of them turned towards the sound of a shout, seeing a woman striding towards them at a quick pace. Logan and Wade stood up and stepped back, giving her room to grab her child. “Evan, you need to stop wandering off!” she scolded, then looked at Logan and Wade, eyes lingering only briefly on Wade’s face. “I am so sorry, was he bothering you? I swear I turn around for two seconds and he disappears.”

“He just lost his truck,” Logan said. “No big deal.”

“Well thank you, anyway,” she said, grabbing onto Evan's hand and pulling him away. “Come on, Evan, let’s go.”

Evan waved back to them as he and his mother walked away. Logan sighed, thankful that nothing had escalated. Experiences in his own timeline had taught him to always expect the worst, especially whenever someone recognized him.

He turned to Wade, ready to move on, but Wade had a blank look on his face, staring off in the direction Evan and his mother had just left. He seemed a million miles, or maybe years away, lost in his own head.

Remembering what Althea had told earlier, Logan quickly put two and two together. “Hey,” Logan said, nudging Wade’s shoulder. “What were you saying about jellyfish?”

Wade snapped back, blinking several times, then grinned, spinning back towards the direction of the tunnel. “The jellyfish alcove is empty,” he said, leveling Logan with a suddenly very warm stare. “And I heard a rumor somebody put an ‘Out of Order’ sign in front of it, so no one else would be going inside.”

Logan swayed forward a bit, drawn into the heat in Wade’s eyes. Maybe the aquarium wasn’t so bad, afterall.

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” Wade said, popping his lips on the ‘p’ and beginning to walk towards the alcove. “You wanna come see?” 

***

Chapter Text

Logan pressed a kiss on the side of Wade’s neck that quickly turned into a bite, shoving him more firmly up against the glass of the jellyfish tank. The lighting in the tunnel was low and intimate, lit only by the glow from the water.

Wade had his hands on Logan’s ass, pulling their hips more firmly together as he tilted his head back to give Logan more room to work. “D-did you know jellyfish don’t have any brains?” Wade stuttered out, whimpering as Logan’s teeth dug into his skin.

Logan pulled his mouth back, licking over the bite mark. “Are you trying to fucking Pavlov me into caring about fish facts right now?” he growled, moving to suck a hickey into the bottom of Wade’s jaw. 

The inherent risk of them fucking around in a public space was making Logan’s head spin with arousal, the Wolverine eager to let everyone know Wade was taken, that their mate was happy and pleased and drowning in pleasure.

“That depends,” Wade panted, hips twitching forward involuntarily. “Is it working?”

“I fucking hate you.”

“They - ah! - they don’t have hearts, e-either. They aren’t capable of hate.”

With an annoyed huff, Logan pulled Wade’s face down, connecting their mouths in a dirty kiss, mentally considering all the ways he could make Wade shut up, when a voice cut through his head.

Logan.

Logan jerked back from Wade like he’d been electrocuted, falling backwards onto the floor. He scrambled away, pressing his back along the tunnel wall and looking from side to side. “What the fuck?”

“Logan?” Wade said, concerned, taking a step forward with his arms cautiously raised. 

I see now is not a good time.

The amused voice of Charles Xavier echoed through Logan’s head, just like it used to so many years ago. Logan raised his hands to his head, pressing his palms against his ears like that would block out the words.

“Fucking stop it. Go away,” he mumbled under his breath, feeling his breath start to stutter in his lungs as panic began to seize him. 

Of course he’d fucking known Charles was alive in this universe, Laura had told him as much, but knowing and having the man poking around in your goddamn head were two wildly different things. 

We’ll talk later. Goodbye, Logan.

With those words, the presence disappeared from inside Logan’s head, leaving him panting against the wall with Wade hovering worriedly over him.

“Logan? What the fuck is happening?”

Logan’s hand shot forward, grabbing onto the front of Wade’s shirt and pulling him close. Wade half sprawled on top of him, awkwardly trying to to move his limbs into a more comfortable position while Logan buried his face in Wade’s neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

Wade ran his fingers through Logan’s hair in soothing motions and let it happen, quiet for once as Logan’s breathing slowly returned to its normal rhythm.

“Sorry,” Logan grunted against Wade’s neck, feeling a sting of embarrassment shoot down his spine.

“It’s okay, Peanut. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Logan said, pulling away from Wade so he could look him in the face. He wanted to ask if they could go, get out of this fucking building and back home where Logan could try to calm down, but the words stuck in his throat. 

He couldn’t do that to Wade, ruin this thing that he clearly enjoyed so much, especially not when he promised Althea he would see it through.

“I think I need to eat something,” Logan said, getting to his feet and offering down a hand to pull Wade up. “They got any food in this place?”

Wade looked suspicious, clearly still wanting to pry, but he let the issue drop and had Logan help him up. “Food is a strong word, but I’m sure we can find something. Come on, I think I saw a slushie machine in there at least.”

***

Logan and Wade stood in the ‘food court’ a couple of minutes later - a glorified bowling alley food counter that really only offered a handful of items, none of which looked particularly good, especially to Logan’s still unsettled stomach. 

Wade ended up ordering them some nachos to split, encouraging Logan to go find them a place to sit while he waited for their order to come up. 

Logan dropped down onto a chair near the back of the seating area, digging his nails into his forearm. He needed to get his shit together. He had been enjoying himself before Charles decided to make his presence known - he’d couldn’t let it knock him so off guard. 

If Wade knew about it, knew how much it had unsettled Logan, he’d offer to let them leave. He wouldn’t want to, but he’d feel he had to, and this whole fucking day would have been a waste. Logan wasn’t going to let that happen.

By the time Wade came over with their food, Logan had taken the conversation with Charles and shoved it deep into the back of his head, on top of the ever growing pile of shit he didn’t want to deal with yet.

The nachos weren’t really nachos so much as they were a pile of dry chips in a cardboard tray with a cup of plasticy cheese on the side - Logan shoved a couple in his mouth anyway to put something in his body. He washed it down with some beer, watching Wade over the top of the thermos as he happily sucked on a slushie.

Their lunch was quiet, but not awkward. Logan appreciated the silence and the time to collect his thoughts. He needed it if he was going to make it through the rest of the day.

“Believe it or not, these are still better than the ones at the aquarium I used to go to when I was a kid,” Wade piped up towards the end of their meal, swiping all their garbage into his arms to throw it away.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Wade said, dropping the trash into the bin with a distant look in his eyes. “That cheese would be like rock solid, I had to shove the cup under my shirt to melt it a little bit.”

“That’s. . .gross,” Logan mumbled, picturing a smaller version of Wade, alone in a place like this for hours, trying desperately to melt a cup of cheese with a serious look on his face. He unconsciously stepped closer to Wade, butting his shoulder against him. “We should order some actual nachos when we get back home.”

“Now you’re speaking my language, Peanut,” Wade said with a wide grin. “But first,” Wade reached into his pocket, pulling out the stingray cards. “We have some fucking stingrays to feed.”

***

They ended up in the stingray feeding area, leaning over a low pool. Logan had a styrofoam cup in each hand full of tiny fish - he was holding both Wade’s and his while Wade reached out to pet the passing rays, hyper focused with his lip between his teeth.

Wade had bullied Logan into touching one briefly, but at the first brush of slimy soft skin against his hand, Logan had jumped back and almost knocked the employee passing out the fish flat on her ass. So he left the interaction to Wade, who seemed to be having enough fun for the both of them.

Across the pool was the kid with the firetruck and his mom, who was holding him gently around the stomach as he leaned forward to stick his hands in the water.

The pool was located in the largest room in the aquarium yet - it was back against the furthest wall, blocked off by a low wall and an employee who was checking tickets. On the other side of the room was a massive tank, almost floor to ceiling in height, filled to the brim with large, bright tropical fish. Most of the people were crowded close to the tank, looking up inside, and far enough away from where Logan was that their constant talking didn’t grate on his ears as much.

After a few minutes, Logan looked up across the pool and caught the eye of the little kid, whose mother had stepped to the side to take a phone call. He waved at Logan with a fistful of fish, and Logan raised his hand in response, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

That is, until, a voice cut through his head once more.

Logan. Is this a better time?

Logan jumped, startled, almost accidentally dumping the contents of both cups onto Wade’s back.

Charles was back, an unignorable presence in Logan’s mind. Logan shook his head, trying to banish the intrusion.

Fuck off, he thought as loud as he could, staring down with a scowl at the stingrays sliding through the water.

I was hoping we could talk. 

And I was hoping you would fuck off.

Charles sighed, the sound so familiar it made Logan feel dizzy, tugged between the past and the present, this timeline and his own. 

You’ve been avoiding the school - and anyone in it. Laura expressed her concerns.

Logan put the cups down next to Wade then placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, feeling  a headache forming at the base of his skull. He needed to sit down, get off his feet before he went face first into the pool and got them kicked out of the fucking aquarium. 

“I’m gonna sit down over there,” Logan said, gesturing vaguely towards the tank on the other side of the room. “You stay, have fun.”

“You okay, big guy?” Wade said, looking up at Logan with a searching gaze. “I know those nachos were pretty rough.”

“I’m fine,” Logan said, a little too harsh to be genuine, but he squeezed down on Wade’s shoulder to make up for it. “Just need to sit.”

“Okay,” Wade said. “I’ll be over there soon, pinky promise.”

Logan nodded and headed towards a couple of benches he saw near the tank. 

Whoever the hell you think you’re talking to, I’m not him, Logan thought, dodging a child who threatened to knock him over. He’s fucking dead. You don’t know me, bub.

I know you aren’t from this timeline, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find a place here.

Logan fell back onto the bench and placed a hand over his face, dragging dull nails across his skin. He'd never liked it when Charles poked around in his head before, but now it especially felt like a strange violation. He took a minute or so to settle, collect his thoughts, not immediately succumb to the anger itching at his throat, the Wolverine’s fury a nagging threat.

You don’t know the shit I’ve done. Who I am. 

You are a better man than you know. You are capable of a great many things. 

“Don't count on it,” Logan grumbled.

You always strive to do good, whether or you believe that or not, Logan.

“Listen, Chuck, I -”

A loud splashing noise interrupted Logan's words, followed by a series of panicked screams. Logan jerked his head up to see people crowding close to the glass wall, gesturing frantically.

“What the hell -”

“Logan!” 

Logan turned his head to see Wade running at him, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. He came to a quick stop and waved an arm in the direction of the tank. “The kid,” Wade started, stopping for a second to catch his breath. “Fuck, the kid fell in to the tank. We gotta -”

Whatever Wade said next was lost on Logan, who looked over to the stingray area to see the kid was no longer there.  Logan jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the wall of glass without a second thought. 

He could see him now, the kid, floating down through the water while bubbles trailed from his mouth. His fire truck toy drifted away from him as his arms splayed out, wiggling in an attempt to swim upward. 

Logan didn’t even think - he ripped off his sunglasses and hat, tossing them on the floor as he sprinted towards a nearby access door. The door was slightly ajar, just wide enough for a child to slip through. He threw it open and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the top. He pushed through another door, catching himself on the railing encircling the edge of the tank. 

A little ways down, a maintenance hatch was open with a tool bag on the catwalk below it. Heartbeat thundering in his ears, Logan yanked off his jacket and kicked off his shoes before diving forward into the water. As he submerged, he was struck suddenly by the temperature difference. He faltered for a second as his body adjusted to the sudden change. He flailed for a moment, trying to get his bearings, then kicked off the side to start heading towards the middle of the tank. 

His eyes stung as he squinted in the water, trying to catch a glimpse of the kid. Logan struggled against his quickly sinking body - there was a reason Logan wasn’t a big swimmer. Ever since the metal skeleton, swimming was a constant uphill battle, like trying to tread water with anvils tied to your ankles.

Luckily, the splash and subsequent disturbance of the water had caused the fish to scatter in all directions, making it easier for Logan to spot the slowly sinking body of the kid. He wasn’t moving anymore and his eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. 

Logan fought against the burning in his lungs and his stupid fucking body to propel himself forward. He managed to grab onto the kid’s shirt and pull him close enough to get an arm around his chest, but the added weight of the extra body only made swimming harder.  

Logan reached upwards with his free hand, kicking with all his might to try and move back towards the top of the tank. The weight of the water was pushing against his body from all sides, dragging him down, destroying the miniscule progress he was making.

A few bubbles escaped his mouth as his throat began to ache, his vision blurred, and he saw a creeping field of darkness start to appear on the edges of his eyes. His muscles started to go limp and his eyelids fluttered, threatening to close, and Logan silently cursed the God who made it so Logan would survive this failure, but the kid would not.

Suddenly, Logan felt an arm wrap around his waist, yanking him upwards. He blearily swung his head to the side to make out the vague shape of Wade, clothed in only his pants, kicking up towards the top of the tank. Logan tightened his hold on the kid, feeling his mind start to drift as the water filled his senses. Just as darkness threatened to take him completely, they broke the surface. Logan heaved in large lungfuls of air, coughing up water as Wade dragged him over to the edge. He hauled Logan and the kid onto the catwalk, panting, then heaved himself out. Wade only stopped for a moment to catch his breath before bending down to tap Logan lightly on the face. 

“Hey, big guy, can you hear me?” Logan blinked in response, coughing up a mouthful of water. “I gotta get you both out of here, so I'm going to hold the kid and piggyback you down, okay?”

Logan loosened his hold on the kid, trusting Wade to grab him. There was a flurry of movement he couldn’t quite force his burning eyes to focus on, then he felt himself be lifted up. He had enough wits to make it easier, wrapping his arms around Wade’s shoulders and clinging onto his back while Wade hefted the kid in his arms.

“Maximum effort,” Logan heard Wade whisper before he started down the stairs at a quick pace.

Had his mind been clearer and his throat not full of water, Logan might have been more embarrassed at the twinge of attraction he felt in the moment, admiring the ease at which Wade carried them both down the stairs like it was nothing. It was easy to forget with how often Wade let Logan pin him down, toss him around, cage him in - but Wade was incredibly strong as well, muscled and fit. The Wolverine, unaffected by Logan’s current state, perked its head up in interest.

“You carried me up the stairs once, Wolvie, looks like I finally get to return the favor,” Wade teased, reaching the bottom of the stairs and shouldering his way through the door. A crowd had formed around the exit - Logan could hear their frantic whispers battering against his skull. “Alright, sweetums, I’m going to put you down real quick, you have a healing factor and I’m pretty sure this kid doesn’t. Hang tight.”

Logan felt himself be tipped onto the floor and he let himself go, sprawling across the cool tile and coughing up another mouthful of water. He turned his head to the side to watch Wade, all humor gone from his face, carefully place the kid down on the floor and start doing CPR. He began compressions with expert movements, mouth set in a grim line. After finishing the set, he tilted the kid’s head back and gave him some breaths before going back to compressions.

It was the most serious and focused Logan had ever seen him, and something about the sight made his chest feel weird - maybe that was just the water in his lungs. 

After another handful of tense seconds, the kid coughed up a dribble of water and Wade sat back on his heels, grinning from ear to ear. A cheer went out through the waiting crowd and the kid’s mother launched herself forward to crouch down by his side.

“Oh my god, Evan,” she cried, grabbing onto the kid’s arm. She looked up at Wade with a wobbly smile. “Thank you, thank you, I can’t ever -”

“No worries, ma’am,” Wade said in that stupid fucking ‘superhero’ voice he liked to use. 

Logan coughed and rolled himself onto his back so he could stare up at the ceiling, blinking away the remaining dizziness from his vision. He felt like he'd been run over by a truck and then the truck had reversed and back over his body again just to make sure he was dead - a metaphor he was all too familiar with given that it'd actually happened to Logan once upon a time.

About a minute later, just as Logan's healing factor was starting to kick into high gear, a paramedic crouched down on his left hand side, while Wade took his right.

“This man needs mouth to mouth!” Wade declared loudly, leaning over Logan's body so their faces were close. “I volunteer as tribute!”

Wade moved forward to connect their mouths, but Logan caught Wade's face in his palm and pushed it back. “Cut it out,” he growled, weakly glaring at Wade through the gap in his fingers. 

“Can't blame a guy for trying,” Wade said with a wink, pressing a small kiss to the inside of Logan's palm. “Alright, let's get you up.”

“Sir, we really shouldn't move -”

Wade waved away the paramedic's concerns with a flapping hand, wrapping an arm around Logan's lower back to help him sit up. “Listen, Fox's 9-1-1, Wolvie here is fine. He's got a healing factor that puts even mine to shame, and before you ask I'm totally not even jealous about that, okay? Leave the big guy to me and go check on the kid.”

The paramedic looked reluctant, but when Wade gave an even more aggressive flappy hand gesture, the man slinked away in the direction of the kid.

“So, Peanut,” Wade said, leaning Logan against his side so he had something to steady himself. “You think we're ever going to have a date that doesn't end in superhero theatrics?”

After the words left Wade's mouth, his cocky smile twisted into a sour grimace. His whole body tensed like a fucking live wire - Logan could feel it where they were pressed together. Wade opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shut it quickly, glancing at Logan's face like he was waiting for an inevitable attack.

Logan was too sore and too tired to try to dig through all the implications of agreeing with Wade, and at this point who honestly gave a fuck? Wade had just saved him from literally drowning, and it wasn't the first time he'd done it metaphorically either. What was there to lose?

“Given our track record, not likely,” Logan hummed, turning his head just slightly so he could press his nose against Wade's neck. The smell of him was grounding, and the happy hum Wade let out at the action solidified his decision.

“Oh shit, Peanut, hold on, I forgot something,” Wade said, pulling away from Logan, who bit back an unhappy growl. “Can you sit up on your own?”

“‘Course,” Logan mumbled, bracing his hands on the floor to hold his weight as Wade's warmth disappeared, reminding him how wet and freezing fucking cold he was.

“Good, I'll be right back!”

Logan closed his eyes, taking a few deep, long breaths.

Then he heard another splashing sound. Logan’s eyes shot open and he jerked his head to the side to see Wade back in the tank, swimming in strong strides towards the bottom. “What the fuck, ” he growled, forcing himself onto his feet to stumble over to the glass.

He watched Wade reach the bottom and start looking around, like he was searching for something. Logically, Logan knew Wade couldn’t drown, not really, but he also knew he didn’t currently have the strength to jump in after him if anything happened. 

If Logan had to see Wade drown, his eyes go dark, his body float listlessly in the tank . . .the Wolverine snarled at the idea, gnashing its teeth and pacing around Logan’s head, ready to lunge forward. Logan blinked back red at the thought, fighting for control. 

He knew if that happened, if Wade got hurt - it wouldn't really matter if the glass was two inches thick, Logan would slam his claws through it until the water took them all out to save Wade, to get him back.

Luckily, Wade was a far stronger swimmer than Logan, and although bubbles started to escape from his mouth, he managed to find what he was looking for, grab it, and head towards the top of the tank. Logan marched toward the maintenance door, scowling, to head Wade off when he exited. 

“What the hell were you doing?” Logan said, grabbing Wade’s arm and yanking him to the side. He looked down at Wade’s hands to see him holding a fire truck toy - the same fire truck toy belonging to the kid they’d saved.

“I thought the kid might want this back,” Wade said, an apologetic grin tugging at his lips, dripping large amounts of water onto the floor. “I know I would.”

Logan found himself at a loss for words, torn between the worry still digging claws into the back of his throat and the strange warmth blossoming in his stomach at Wade doing such a surprisingly kind gesture. 

“Don’t you already think you’ve played the hero enough today?” Logan settled for his usual gruffiness, too cold and too tired to delve any deeper into the more complicated emotions fighting for dominance in his brain, wrestling with the Wolverine for Logan’s attention.

“Almost,” Wade said, tugging his arm out of Logan’s grasp - Logan choked down a growl - to jog over to the paramedics who had the kid on a gurney, wheeling him towards the exit with his mother by his side. Wade caught up with them, and although Logan was too far away to hear what words were exchanged, when Wade placed the toy in the kid’s arms, the whole group lit up in beaming smiles. 

Wade fist bumped the kid, gave a thumbs up to the paramedics along with another flappy hand of dismissal, and then headed back over to Logan. He didn’t protest when Logan pulled him close, not quite scenting him (not in public, Jesus Christ, he would rather jump back in the tank and drown for real) but soothing his instincts by making sure he could feel Wade’s body heat.

“Hey, Peanut, what do you say we get dried off and in some warm clothes, hmmm? I know from my extensive research that Wolverine’s like a cold environment, but Deadpool’s tend to get a little cranky when they get shivery.”

Logan gave a tight nod, slung an arm around Wade’s shoulder, and let him lead them past a chorus of clapping - Logan tuned it all out, focusing only on the steady beat of Wade’s heart. 

***

Half an hour later found Wade and Logan stepping outside of the aquarium gift shop, wearing fully new outfits and mismatched expressions. Logan grimaced, pulling at the oversized tye dye shirt he currently wore. It was as bright as the sun, tacky and hard to look at, covered in various tropical fish and the logo for the aquarium. 

Wade was grinning from ear to ear, placing his hands on his hips to proudly display his equally as hideous shirt - slightly too small and a baby blue color, covered in a large picture of a cartoon starfish with a speech bubble saying “SEA you later!” They each wore a matching pair of shark patterned joggers, wave embroidered socks, and light blue sandals. 

After being interrogated by both security and the police about what exactly happened, the director of the aquarium had appeared to steer Logan and Wade into the gift shop, encouraging them to take whatever they needed, on the house, clearly desperate to save face about the safety violations once he realized exactly who they were. 

Logan, still dripping and wet and miserable, hadn’t put up any protest at the idea of changing into dry clothes, but had he known what the options were, he might have fought back a little harder.

Plus, the comically oversized plush octopus Wade had tucked under his arm hardly seemed like a need.

“Where are you even going to put that?” Logan grumbled.

“Sebastian here will make a lovely edition to my stuffed animal collection, thank you very much,” Wade said, lifting one of the octopus’ arms up to wiggle it around.

“You put that on the bed, there won’t even be room for you on there anymore.”

“Well I guess we’ll just have to cuddle real close on the couch then, huh, Honey Badger?” Wade said with a wink, bumping shoulders with Logan.

Logan’s face flushed red, just slightly, but he blamed it on the AC currently biting at his skin. “You have a hoarding problem,” he said in response, walking ahead of Wade to start moving towards the exit. “Can we get the fuck out of here now?”

“Yes, please,” Wade said, falling into step beside Logan. “Fish are still cool, but seeing them all up close and personal like that does kind of make them a little more scary.”

“You gonna tell me you’re scared of fish now?”

“That’s not what I said!” Wade protested, waving his free arm up and down. “Don’t go spreading that around, I have street cred to keep up.”

“Sure,” Logan said, rolling his eyes as he tugged open the exit door and let them both outside. “Everyone already knows you’re scared of the dark, I don’t think -”

The words died on Logan’s tongue as he stepped into the sun, staring ahead of him at the group of people standing in front of the steps leading up to the aquarium’s entrance.

“Logan,” Charles Xaiver said with a knowing smile, turning his chair so he was fully facing Logan and Wade. “So good to see you in person.”

Logan tensed, every fucking muscle in his body seizing like he’d just been struck by lightning. His vision tunneled, seeing Charles and then behind him, standing with a group of younger X-Men recruits, Scott fucking Summers.

Logan felt the air catch in his lungs, like he was still underwear, like he had never left the tank and was still drowning. He clenched his hands into fists until his knuckles strained white, trying to ground himself, but he swore he could feel the earth move beneath his feet, threatening to send him toppling over.

A hand wrapped around his bicep and Logan jerked his head to the side to see Wade had stopped beside him, leveling Charles with a look that was happy, but tinged with an underlayer of something else Logan couldn’t place. 

“Charles fucking Xaiver,” Wade said, letting out a low whistle. “The James McAvoy version. Lucky us.”

“Wade,” Charles said with a slight nod.

“To what do we owe the cameo?” Wade continued, giving Logan’s arm a light, but reassuring squeeze.

“We were here on an outing for some new recruits.” Charles gestured towards the group of students and Scott, who seemed to be doing a quick head count while also not so subtly sneaking glances in Logan’s direction. “But then the aquarium was evacuated. We heard something about an incident with a fish tank. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

Charles leveled Logan with a stare, the playful tinkle present in his eyes the same as it had been in Logan’s own timeline. The same eyes Logan had seen glazed over and dead, Charles’ body lying in a heap within the remains of his precious school.

The Wolverine’s fur bristled, startled like a cat, pacing around Logan’s mind with an anxious, unfocused panic. Logan felt himself wobble slightly on his feet, like his legs were threatening to give out from under him. Wade tightened his hold on Logan’s arm, stepping subtly closer.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Clean,” Wade said, a sugary sweet smile on his face. “Maybe one of your little baby X-Men had something to do with it. I’ve always said you should get them those little backpack leashes so they don’t wander off, ones with little metal bits at the end so your evil boyfriend can just yank them all together if they go too far.”

Charles finally turned his gaze away from Logan to look at Wade, and Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “You always have such unique ideas, Wade,” Charles said with a wink. “Perhaps I need to put you in touch with Hank.”

“Professor.”

Scott stepped up behind Charles cautiously, like he wasn't sure if he should.

“Yes, Scott?”

“All the students are accounted for,” Scott said, red lens stare hopping between Logan and Wade. His brow was furrowed slightly and his jaw was tight, like he was holding back saying what he really wanted to say. 

Charles tilted his head minutely and Scott mirrored the action - Logan could tell Charles was communicating with Scott privately, maybe a quick reprimand or reminder. Whatever it was, it must have worked, as Scott let out a quick breath. 

“Logan,” Scott nodded, holding out his hand in front of him. “Good to see you. The professor told us you might be around. Nice outfit.”

Logan stared at Scott’s extended hand like it was a gun pointed straight at his head. Every instinct in his head screamed at him not to touch Scott, not Scott, not his Scott, this fucking dead man walking who looked and sounded exactly like his long gone friend.

But Logan had never, ever, looked weak in front of any version of Scott Summers, and he wasn’t about to start now. He grabbed Scott’s hand and gave it a firm shake, hoping the slight trembling of his arm couldn’t be felt through the brief connection. He dropped the handshake as soon as he could, fingers twitching at his side. 

He wished he could grab Wade’s hand, feel the familiar slide of his scars against Logan’s rough, calloused skin - but Charles, and Scott, and all of those X-Men recruits were staring at him, and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Scott,” Logan forced out, the name so foreign now on his tongue, like a hole where a tooth used to be.

“Deadpool,” Scott said, holding his hand out towards Wade. “Always interesting to see you.”

Wade slapped his hand against Scott’s in a sideways high five, his mouth stretched into the kind of smile Logan only ever saw seconds before Wade tried to kill someone. 

“Summertime,” Wade said, ignoring Scott’s annoyed frown at the slap and the nickname. “I see you still haven’t tried out my brilliant idea yet.”

Scott sighed, a sigh Logan recognized all too well as someone who spent a lot of time around Wade. “I already told you, if I wore a pair of 3D glasses it would not make my beams purple. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“But how can we be sure if you haven’t tried it, huh?” Wade turned to Charles, who looked like he was endlessly entertained by Wade’s ramblings. “You know what, just give me blue boy's number or something, I have so many good ideas that are wasted on you guys. I was thinking the other day -”

“Are you two here together?” Scott interrupted, gesturing a finger between Logan and Wade. “Or is this just a really insane coincidence for us all to be in the same place at the same time?”

Charles leveled Logan with a knowing look, and Logan felt flayed alive, like his skin had been ripped from his body and his insides were all exposed. He’d never liked Charles poking around in his head, not even back in his own timeline - who knew what he could see, what thoughts he might accidentally catch. He knew Charles was a good guy - at least his had been - who usually respected privacy, but who could really know what the other man saw when he was poking around in your head? 

And this thing with him and Wade, this new, weird fucking thing that didn’t even have a name yet - he didn’t want the professor to see it, to know about it, to judge it, to pry. It was none of his fucking business.

“What’s it to you, bub?” Logan growled, feeling his claws threatening to slide forward.

Scott held his hands up. “Whoa, I was just curious if you guys are teaming up or something. I didn’t think Deadpool was the kind of person you’d usually hang around, that’s all.”

Logan looked over to Wade and met his eyes, unable to read his expression. He opened his mouth to answer, and Wade quickly followed suit. 

“We're roommates.” “We're partners.”

They both shut their mouths, glancing at Charles and Scott, then back at each other. 

“We're room partners,” Wade said, turning away from Logan. “We sleep in the same room, superhero sleepover style.”

“Okay. . .” Scott said, clearly unsure of what to make of their answer. 

“Scott, why don't you take the students to the bus?” Charles said, nodding his head towards the clearly snooping recruits. “We will want to leave soon, before the police decide we might have had a hand in whatever has happened.”

“Right.” Scott gave Logan and Wade one more up and down appraisal, before turning to start herding the students back towards the parking lot. 

“Logan, Wade,” Charles said, nodding at each of them in turn with a soft smile. “I'm glad we got to talk. Please, don't hesitate to stop at the school sometime for a visit.” Charles turned his eyes on Logan. “Laura keeps talking about having you come by.”

“We'll see,” Logan grunted in response, eager for the interaction to be over. He needed to be back home, somewhere familiar and steady, so he could drown this terror he felt in his chest with comforting scents and at least two packs of beer.

“Don't count on it, Days of Future Past,” Wade said, slinging an arm around Logan's shoulders. “Wolvie and I are a little too cool for school, but tell Summertime if I do stop by I'll make sure to shove his head in a locker.”

“I’ll pass on the message.” Charles turned his chair and headed towards the ramp, leaving them with one last soft smile. “I hope to see both of you soon.”

The second Charles was far enough away, Logan grabbed Wade’s arm and yanked him in the opposite direction, ignoring Wade’s startled yelp. He half stumbled down the steps, almost sending both of them falling, then rounded the side of the building so they were both out of sight, tucked into a small outdoor seating area. 

He let go of Wade and dropped into the nearest chair, putting his elbows on the table and pushing his palms against his eyes. Air hissed through his teeth, not enough to stop his chest from beginning to heave like he couldn’t breathe. He felt his claws rip through his skin, sending rivulets of blood trailing down his hands.

The images wouldn’t stop pounding against his brain - Scott, dead, glasses shattered next to him, the first and only time Logan had ever actually seen his eyes was when they were empty and glazed over. Then this Scott, slightly taller but just the same otherwise, the same unimpressed frown and holier than thou attitude Logan had always hated, but had missed terribly when it was gone.

And Charles, the professor, the only man Logan had ever really trusted, back with the same knowing stare and uncanny ability to make a person feel truly seen. Like he had never left - but he had, they all had, and Logan lived with their absence for years.

Every bar fight, every hurled insult, every time he’d been thrown out on his ass or spit on or cursed at - all penance for letting his family down. He’d never actually moved past the grief; it clung to him like a second skin, weighing his body down and smothering the world around him. Touch, taste, sight - these things existed only in muffled sensation, phantoms of what they used to be.

He could feel that familiar feeling now, creeping up his spine and threatening to pull over his head, stuff his ears and pull him under again, to the place where all he could sense was the cold press of a beer to his lips.

A soft warmth pressed against the side of his face, the barely there pressure just enough to startle Logan out of his spiral. He pulled his hand back enough to see Wade crouched in front of him, eyes carrying an undercurrent of worry, but his smile was as big as ever. His fingers were against Logan’s head, gently cradling it. Logan turned instinctually into the touch, breathing in the familiar scent of Wade and mate and home.

He valiantly ignored the wetness he could feel on his cheeks, fucking embarssing bullshit, and luckily, Wade did, too.

“Hey, Honey Badger,” Wade said, voice soft but not condescending, rubbing a thumb along Logan’s temple. “You want to get some smoothies? I stole a whole bunch of coupons from behind the welcome desk and I’m pretty sure one of them is a BOGO.”

Logan snorted, pushing Wade’s hand away and getting to his feet. He dragged an arm across his face and took a couple of steadying breaths until he started to feel like himself again.

The problem wasn’t going to go away on its own. The dam Logan had so carefully built to hold back all the things he didn’t want to think about was beginning to crack: the x-men, this universe, what the hell life looked like going forward, this fucking thing with Wade. He was going to need to face it head on eventually.

But fuck, it sure as shit wasn’t going to be today.

“Would be a real shame to let that go to waste,” Logan said, almost sounding like himself. He put an arm around Wade’s shoulders and tugged him close, pressing a light kiss to the side of his head in quiet thanks. “Let’s fucking leave.”

Wade looked frozen stiff for a moment, like he’d suddenly turned off. “Wade?” Logan prodded, shaking him a little to get a reaction.

Wade jolted forward, neck flushing red. “I agree!” Wade said, a little too quickly to be completely casual, but he started walking so Logan let it drop. “You know, I was thinking. . . what even is a Jamba, and how would you go about juicing one?”

Logan rolled his eyes and didn’t bother responding, letting Wade’s constant rambling silence the noise in his head, thankful for the temporary peace of mind.

***

Chapter Text

***

Many people when confronted with Wade in all his happy go lucky, box-office breaking glory, tended to forget the whole “merc” part of “the merc with the mouth” stihck. 

They saw the guns and the kill count and the super cool totally-not-done-by-a-stunt-double moves, but neglected to remember the other important part of being a mercenary: observation skills.

Now Wade did probably have undiagnosed ADHD - along with a cocktail of other learning disorders and trauma responses and depression and mommy issues - but when it came to surveillance, he could push all that shit aside to focus on the task at hand. He caught tiny details others would miss, recalled information with startling clarity, and excelled at putting all the pieces together.

This skill was extremely useful back when Wade was taking merc jobs consistently and spending his days kicking his feet on rooftops with a bag of takeout and his trusty binoculars. He'd find his mark and watch them for hours, trail them all day till he got the info he needed, then he came up with a game plan. 

Sure , sometimes the plan was just to run in guns blazing and see what happened, but it still technically was a plan.

Now, however, Wade wasn't really doing merc jobs in the same way as before. Sure, he and Logan did the odd job here and there to pay the rent, but rarely were they doing anything that needed a lot of prepping for, and even if it did, Logan's patience was pretty paper thin.

Nine times out of ten Logan was more likely to kick down the door and speed through whatever the job was so they could go back home. 

Wade having the opportunity to  use his arsenal of observation skills on jobs was pretty few and far between recently, so obviously he had to start pointing them in another direction.

All of that boring build up to say that Wade had taken to studying Logan like a bug. Given that Logan's presence in his life was now more consistent than being a mercenary, all that energy and focus had to go somewhere. 

Wade truly felt like a wildlife photographer (sneaky pictures on his phone included), observing Logan's behavior and taking lots of mental notes. Wade wanted to know what made Logan tick, what made him boom.

He learned what things Logan liked (cheap beer, dad rock, sex, home improvement reality tv) and what things he didn’t like (loud noises, cats, bubble baths, pineapple on pizza.)

He studied what times Logan liked to wake up, his work out schedule, how often he ate, what stores near their apartment he liked to visit (what was a bit of light stalking between roommate partners, right?), what temperature he liked to set the thermostat at.

He became aware of the signs of Logan’s mood, when he was upset, when he was getting actually angry and not just annoyed at Wade’s bullshit. There was always a slight furrow of his brow, lips drawing back to flash teeth, Logan rubbing his palm over the top of his fist like he was trying to hold back the release of his claws.

And when Logan was happy - a soft crinkle around his eyes, his shoulders slumping like the weight of the world had been removed, the slight uptick of his mouth, the tilt of his head.

And especially when he was horny, the heat in his eyes, his tongue running along his lips, the low growl beginning in his chest and slipping between his teeth, the flash of red in his pupils, the slight twitching of his fingers, eager to grab.

All of that exposition to say , Wade noticed almost immediately when Logan’s behavior changed. He was so fine tuned into Logan’s patterns that the second they broke, it was like a plate shattering on the floor. 

And it changed after the aquarium. 

To be expected, of course, given Charles Francis Xaiver had fucking shown up out of the goddamn blue with his little gaggle of X-Men babies and Scott fucking Summers. 

(They never bothered to show up in his movies before, but now that Logan was back suddenly they were all banging down the doors to get a cameo. He’d been surprised there were only two named X-Men on the scene, but he suspected for more to come crawling in any day now.)

Wade had never seen Logan like that before, completely fucking petrified - not even when their lives had actually been in danger when Cassandra threatened to rip them apart or the Time Ripper™ actually started doing it.

He’d played it cool and casual, trying to diffuse the situation and get it over with as quickly as possible. Later, as he watched Logan start to panic, he began to understand things a little bit better.

Wade had taken a little jaunt through the multiverse, seen a few different timelines, and understood in theory what that all meant (he’d watched the Loki series on Disney+ so he was basically an expert). Even seeing dozens of other Deadpool’s hadn’t really phased him - he was the real one and they were all just extra wannabes as far as he was concerned. Did you see some of those ridiculous outfits? Yeah, no thanks. 

Honestly, he hadn’t even really batted an eye when Paradox offered him the chance to join the sacred timeline, except for the bit about his old one getting destroyed. He was all game for taking a train down to MCU town and leaving his own universe behind if it meant his friends were okay.

But at the end of the day, he had ended up back in his own universe and his own version of reality, while Logan. . . hadn’t.

Wade had never been part of a team, not really. Besides X-Force (rest in so many little pieces), his brief stint on a hockey team, and Special Forces (not so much of a team as it was a government funded cult), Wade was pretty much a lone wolf. So he couldn’t really relate to how Logan must be feeling, having been part of such a tight knit team of do-gooders, constantly putting his unkillable life in danger to protect the world and his team. 

Wade had definitely joked about the whole “Worst Wolverine” thing before - especially when Logan was actively pissing him off, or wouldn’t hand Wade the remote when he was already so comfy, or told Wade that his homemade snickerdoodle muffins were just okay . 

He’d never really sat down and considered the full scope of the nickname, that this was a Logan who had lost everything, all his X-Men family, all the respect of the people of his timeline. Logan had spent years alone, guilty and hated. 

And now here he was, in a timeline where none of that had happened, where all the X-Men were not only alive, but eager to talk to Logan, to bring him into their ranks, take him back despite everything he’d done wrong.

So yes, Wade could understand why Logan would be so shaken up about the whole thing, and why he would be confused about what his next move should be.

What he didn’t understand is why Logan decided to take all that confusion out on Wade.

All that long exposition to say, Logan hadn’t so much as touched Wade in a week since the aquarium. 

Which was definitely unusual, according to all the Logan related data Wade had so painstakingly gathered. Logan liked to have sex, and he liked to have sex a lot. Most days ended with them having fooled around in some shape or form, whether it was them sleepily making out in the morning or Wade riding Logan’s cock on the kitchen floor.

It was very rare for them not to at least do something . They were both fully grown men with short refractory periods and unusually high sex drives, so that wasn’t really a surprise.

But since the aquarium, Logan hadn’t so much as kissed him. And everytime Wade tried to initiate something, Logan pulled away and made up some excuse, leaving Wade behind with a mumbled apology.

Wade tried (he really did) not to spiral about it. There were a million and one negative places his brain could go to explain why that might be, and almost all of them pointed bright glaring neon signs at every single one of Wade’s insecurities.

Wade wanted to rationalize it, figure it out, use all the data he collected to find a reason why -  yet every time he tried, it all crumpled into nothing in the face of the waves of Wade’s insecurity.

So he was left to stew in this weird sort of jealousy/sadness/fear about his already unlabeled and uncertain relationship with Logan. 

He went over all the moments at the aquarium, trying to pinpoint where he might have fucked up, said something wrong, gone too far. Maybe Logan hadn’t actually been as cool with the date comment as Wade thought he was and this was Logan trying to put some distance between them. Maybe the ‘roommate partners’ thing was a little too far and now Logan didn’t want anything to do with him.

And if it wasn’t his fault, then it was about the X-Men, and that was somehow even worse.

Wade tried to act as normal as possible, hoping just giving Logan his space would mean things would eventually go back to the way they were before, but with every passing day, Wade became more and more uncertain it ever would.

***

Wade blearily blinked his eyes open, feeling like a blanket of wool was pulled over his brain. The night before, he’d taken himself out on a solo pity party to St. Margaret’s to drown himself in AHF’s and whine to Gemma about how he’d fucked everything up.

She’d cut him off eventually and sent him back home with a pat on the shoulder and a bottle of water, and Wade had passed out on his bed immediately when he got back, head swimming with alcohol and crippling self doubt.

Wade felt something warm press against his neck and made a questioning noise, reaching out to touch whatever it was. His hand sunk into fluffy hair and he heard a low growl when he tugged at the strands between his fingers.

“Peanut?”

Wade looked down, trying to kick the lingering sleep out of his brain, to see Logan laying on top of him, mouth pressing biting kisses into Wade’s neck. Little Wade was faster to react than actual Wade, starting to twitch inside Wade’s boxers in an almost pavlovian response.

Logan glanced up at him, giving one last small nip before pulling away. He got up on his hands, hovering over Wade and looking down on him. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Wade repeated, pleased that Logan was in his bed, but still just sleepy enough to be confused. He reached up, putting his arms around Logan’s neck, happy when Logan didn’t pull away.

“You remember the other day?” Logan said, voice still a little rough with sleep. “When you lost the bet?”

“No need to rub it in,” Wade chided, enjoying the feeling of Logan’s skin beneath his fingertips after so long without. “But yes, I remember.”

“I want to cash in my bet. You doing what I say, the whole day. Althea’s over Edith’s and we have the place to ourselves.”

And suddenly Wade felt a lot less sleepy.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I like the sound of that.”

Logan leaned down, capturing Wade’s lips in a heavy kiss. Wade moaned, spreading his legs so Logan could slip just a little further between them. He wasn’t sure what had brought on this sudden change in attitude, but he wasn’t going to ask and ruin the moment, so he let it go.

Logan bit at Wade’s bottom lip and licked into his mouth, hands moving down to rub at Wade’s nipples through the material of his shirt. Wade moaned into Logan’s mouth, hungry for more.

He moved one his hands down, trailing it along Logan’s side while their mouths slid together, and teased at the edge of Logan’s boxers.

Just as his fingers were about to slip inside, Logan pulled away, breathing heavily, and grabbed onto Wade’s hand.

“Hold on. There’s some stuff we have to do first.”

Wade pressed his hips up, hoping to lure Logan into movement. He was sure whatever Logan had planned was hot, but he was horny now and what harm would a little quicky do anyway in the grand scheme of things?

Logan went along with it for a moment, twitching his hips down, but then he growled and put his hands on Wade’s waist to hold him in place.

“No,” Logan said, sitting up so their bodies were no longer touching. “Not yet.”

Wade pouted, squirming underneath Logan. “No fair. You got me all hot and bothered and now you’re leaving me out to dry. And here I was thinking you were a gentleman. This is no way to treat a lady.”

“One, you’re not a lady,” Logan said. “Two, shut the fuck up. Keep being annoying and I’ll -”

“Spank me?” Wade interrupted, eager to make that shit finally happen (the readers were getting impatient.)

“I’ll leave and go find something else to do,” Logan said bluntly.

“Empty threat, I know you aren’t going to walk out the door with a hard-on, you’ll give Edith a heart attack.”

Logan glared down at Wade, unimpressed, and Wade knew he was starting to push his luck a little too much. He did still want to get dicked down, afterall.

“Okay, fine.”

“Good,” Logan rumbled, rewarding Wade with a deep, wet kiss that had him squirming all over again.

Logan separated their mouths slowly, thumb massaging a lazy circle into Wade’s hip. “First, I want you to take a shower. Get nice and clean. I’ll leave something for you to change into on the towel hook.”

“And then what?”

“One thing at a time.”

Wade sighed, but conceded that this was Logan’s day, which meant they had to do things his way. “Okay, I’ll try to be good.”

Logan rolled off of Wade and went over to the couch to start picking through the clothes there. Wade sighed, willing down his erection, and got up to head to the bathroom. Patience wasn’t really his strong suit by any means, unless he was on a job, but he’d yet to be disappointed during any of the time he and Logan had sex, so this attempt at endurance would most likely actually pay off. 

After all, good things cum to those who wait. 

“On my way to get all dolled up for you, Sugar Bear,” Wade said, voice low and teasing. He said he would be good, but he couldn’t resist one last act of defiance.

As he entered the bathroom, he stripped quickly and tossed his underwear and sleep pants over his shoulder to land in the living room. “If you change your mind, Wolvie, I’ll be in here. Warm and naked and wet, daydreaming about a erotic version of that scene from ‘Psycho’.”

He heard Logan’s growl as he shut the door, grinning to himself. Maybe that would be the push Logan needed to get things moving along.

Wade hopped into the shower and started scrubbing himself down, making sure to be extra through. He used Logan’s body wash - ‘Iron’ or some other stupid masculine-sounding one word scent Laura had gotten him from Bath and Body Works - knowing Logan would appreciate the detail. Wade made sure to clean from head to toe, lingering a bit in case Logan wanted to take him up on the shower sex offer.

He heard the door open and got his hopes up for a second, but Logan just hung something on the towel hook and left.

Wade pouted, but reminded himself that this would all be worth it. Hypothetically. 

He toyed briefly with the idea of fingering himself, getting nice and open for Logan, but ultimately decided against it. He loved Logan’s thick fingers inside of him, stretching him open gently, getting him ready for his big fucking cock - 

Oh, there went little Wade, standing at attention. 

It had been a week, okay? Who could even blame him. Going from getting fucked on a near daily basis to cold turkey was reeking havoc on his poor dick. Little guy was confused and desperate - Wade could empathize. He gave it one sympathetic stroke before letting go and finishing his shower.

Whatever Logan had planned better be the hottest thing Wade had ever seen or he might just consider throwing himself down the stairs again.

He stepped out of the shower, toweled himself off, and then looked at what Logan had left him to wear. It seemed like he’d only left a shirt, one of his larger ones that smelled faintly of cigar smoke and fit slightly loose even on Logan’s wide frame.

Territorial bastard . Wade shouldn’t be surprised Logan would consider Wade wearing his clothes the sexiest option - he was a little disappointed, he’d hoped for maybe lingerie or a maid outfit or something equally as hot. He’d have to teach Logan to be a little more creative.

When he pulled it on, the shirt fell just below his ass, barely covering anything. One wrong move and he’d be flashing God, the Queen, and everyone else. 

A rising wave of anxiety threatened to fill his throat, make him choke on his own self doubt - it was so much of his body on display, not usually a problem when he and Logan were already going at it, but here, standing mostly naked in the bathroom alone, he felt every inch of air on his skin.

He swallowed the panic down forcefully, tugging at the hem of the shirt. Some days were harder than others - battling his cripplingly low self-esteem was like running an obstacle course while slicked up with oil. More often than not he found himself missing the jump entirely and landing in a never ending pit of pity so deep it felt impossible to climb out of. 

But he had to remember, he had Logan waiting for him. Logan, who despite Wade’s nightmarish appearance, had proven time and time again he was very much into having sex with Wade. So even if Wade couldn’t see what was so sexy about him wearing essentially a mini dress with his cock hanging out, Logan did, and that would have to be good enough.

Wade took a deep breath, plastered a convincing enough sensual smirk on his face, and threw open the bathroom door to slink his way out. He leaned against the doorframe, pressing his chest against the wall and stretching his arms above his head while he glanced over at where Logan was sitting, now dressed in his usual tank top and jeans combo.

“You know, sweet pea, you really need to let me show you some fun websites. You get a chance to get me all dolled up in whatever you want and this is what you choose? Remind me to pull up AdamandEve.com, I have an affiliate link, we could get some really sexy stuff and save 15% at checkout.”

Although Logan was a little ways away from him, Wade could still see his pupils expand as his gaze trailed over Wade’s body. Logan swallowed down the rest of his beer, wiped his mouth, and tossed the bottle aside. He let out a low, hungry growl and got to his feet to start prowling in Wade’s direction.

“Oooh, the Big Bad Wolvie is so scary,” Wade said, sliding one of his hands up and tilting his ass out, luring Logan towards him. “What’s he gonna do to poor little helpless Red?”

“Stop with your weird fucking roleplays,” Logan grunted, caging Wade against the wall with his body. He leaned forward, trailing his nose down Wade’s neck, and placed his hands on Wade’s hips.

“Just trying to spice things up, sugar bear,” Wade said, pushing back into Logan’s touch. God, he loved that they were the same height, that Logan could cover him so completely.

“This not hot enough for you?” Logan said, sliding his tongue up Wade’s neck to bite at his ear. One of his hands kept Wade in place while the other trailed down, teasing at the edge of the shirt. It slipped underneath and grabbed a handful of Wade’s ass, squeezing down.

“Uhhh. . .” Wade mumbled, struck suddenly dumb by, yeah, how hot the fucking situation really was. 

He had The Wolverine pinning him against the wall, fully dressed while Wade was mostly naked, their muscled bodies pressing against each other so every movement was felt ten fold by his extremely interested dick. It felt like all the blood in his brain - usually hard at work coming up with witty references or sex jokes - had all abandoned their desks and hopped on the express train down to his cock.

“All it takes is the promise of getting fucked to finally shut you up, huh?” Logan’s fingers moved, teasing the crease of Wade’s ass, threatening to slip inside. “You need it that bad?”

“Yes!” Wade hissed, jerking his hips back against Logan’s searching fingers. “Yes, fuck, I need to get fucked, come on, Wolvie, it’s been a week! Put that huge dick in me already, please, I’m not above begging!”

“Shhhh,” Logan said, moving his hand away from Wade's ass while ignoring Wade's disgruntled groan. He pressed a series of light kisses up Wade's neck till he reached his ear. “It's my day, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Wade said cautiously, already on edge. 

“And you have to do whatever I say.”

“That was the agreement, sweetie, yep,” Wade said in a fake sugary sweet voice, trying to wiggle but held firm by Logan's hands.

“Then I want you,” Logan started, trailing a hand up and under Wade's shirt to thumb at a nipple. Wade whimpered, twitching forward. 

“To. . .” Logan twisted Wade's head towards him so their lips were hovering just an inch or so apart. A loose smile was tugging at Logan's lips, like he couldn't quite hold it back, and Wade knew he already wouldn't like where this was going, but his dick was still holding out hope.

“Make us breakfast.”

Wade deflated like a popped balloon, slumping back against Logan’s hold with a childish pout. “Are you fucking serious right now?” Wade said, unable to keep the whine out of his voice.

“Yep.”

“Be right back, I’m going to throw myself down the stairs instead.”

Wade went to pull away from Logan and make good on those words, but Logan tightened his hold, lifting a hand to place it loosely around Wade’s throat - totally not fucking fair, considering he knew Wade had a thing for being choked.

“You’re the one who lost the bet, you don’t get to pussy out now.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were going to take advantage of being in charge for sexy purposes! Like some Fifty Shades of Grey or some shit! I never read them, but I understand the vibes and me doing chores is not that vibe!”

Logan huffed, tightening his grip slightly, just enough to have Wade’s breath hitch, then he released his hold to cradle Wade’s jaw instead. “Do you trust me?”

“The only thing bigger than your dick are my trust issues,” Wade said, looking up into Logan’s soft gaze. Goddamn fucking damn it, those beautiful hazel eyes worked on him every single time. “But. . . yes. I trust you.”

“Good.” Logan slid his thumb up Wade’s cheek once, then stepped back fully to let Wade move. “Then get your ass in the kitchen. I’m fucking hungry.”

“Watch your choice of words, wife beater tank top, or I’m going to have to cancel you on twitter,” Wade said, giving Logan a playful shove while moving past him to head to the kitchen. 

Logan grunted in response (typical) and went over to the couch to grab the TV remote. 

Wade pulled open the fridge and stared at the contents, trying to figure out Logan’s angle. It had to be some sort of weird fetish thing, right? Logan had been alive in the 1950s, maybe he wanted Wade to fulfill some weird little house wifey kink. At least Wanda Vision had cute outfits and stellar set design to bring all that to life - Wade had a draft between his legs and barely any fucking food in the fridge.

Or maybe it was a control thing? Something to do with his instincts, like maybe he got off on ordering people around, or having access to sex whenever he wanted it. Wade wished he could look through Logan’s search history, see what kind of weird stuff he was looking up, but Logan didn’t have a phone or a laptop so that was a dead end. 

Whatever it was, Wade was going to do his best to see it through - at least until it got too boring or he got too impatient. 

Wade grabbed a carton of eggs, some butter, and what little milk they had out of the fridge before bumping it shut with his hip. He was pretty sure the eggs were still good and well, if they weren’t, maybe they could work ordering Doordash into whatever kink Logan was currently fulfilling. 

He dumped all the items onto the counter and got to work, pulling out a bowl and a pan. While he waited for the stove to heat up, Wade cracked open the eggs they had left into a bowl, humming while he got everything ready.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, playing wifey to Logan. There was something comfortably, domestically nice about hearing the TV in the background, knowing Logan was there, waiting for him - knowing that they would eat together while watching some stupid show, that Logan would let Wade lean against his side, that Logan would listen while Wade rambled about everything under the sun.

A sudden memory overtook him, of Vanessa leaning over the counter in their old apartment, sorting blueberries while Wade mixed together pancake batter. Vanessa looked up at him, smile soft and a little sleepy - Wade had seen his whole future in that smile, in the slight crinkle of her eyes, the upward turn of her lips. Years of domesticity and comfort, easy intimacy and laughter, a consistency and warmth he’d never really known before.

But that was all gone now.

Wade jumped at the press of lips to the back of his neck, followed by a sharp bite. A pair of strong arms slid around his waist, one hand going lower to pull at the edge of his shirt. “You know you actually have to put the eggs on the fucking stove to cook them, right?”

“I was letting them settle , Wolvie,” Wade said, pulling himself back to the present. “You know I binge watched ‘The Bear’ last week, I learned a thing or two about professional cooking and mental breakdowns.”

“You’re taking forever.”

“Patience, old padawan,” Wade said, pouring milk inside the bowl, “You were just telling me earlier how I needed to trust the process.”

He felt Logan’s breath tickle his neck, then hands sliding slowly down his body, firmly feeling it up. Wade tried to focus on stirring the eggs together, but was quickly distracted by the sudden disappearance of Logan’s warmth against his back. 

He heard a soft thump and then the warmth was back in the form of two hands spreading his ass cheeks, exposing his hole to a hot puff of air. “Wolvie?” Wade squeaked, hand gripping onto the plastic bowl with a dangerous amount of pressure.

“Don’t stop,” Logan said, squeezing Wade’s ass in his hands. “I’m still hungry.”

“I can see that.” Wade tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but honestly, how was he supposed to do anything when The Wolverine was eyeballing his ass like a tasty snack? He could hardly be blamed for getting distracted. 

The guy from ‘The Bear’ certainly never had to deal with anything like this.

“Sweetums, are you going to - ah!” Wade tensed as Logan’s tongue pressed against his hole, teasing and wet, sliding along the puckered skin and up along to the top of Wade’s ass. 

Logan hummed, the sort of growly, pleased noise he made whenever he was really into whatever they were doing. The sound vibrated against Wade’s skin, sending tingles down his spine and making a pathetic whimper fall from his mouth. 

Wade couldn’t help twitching his hips back into the sensation, bracing his elbows on the counter with the metal spoon clutched in a death grip.

“P-Peanut, what the fuck-”

Logan dragged his tongue across Wade's hole again, pausing to drill against the resistance there and try to slip inside. Wade moaned and then flinched as he heard the snikt sound of Logan's claws releasing. He glanced back and felt all the blood in his brain rush down to his dick at the sight - Logan, kneeling on the ground, face buried in Wade's ass, fingers and claws artfully framing Wade's hips. It was like a Renaissance painting or some shit, if those artists had been allowed to get a little more x-rated.

The spoon fell from Wade's twitching fingers, clattering on the countertop. At the noise, Logan gave one long lick and then pulled away, looking up at Wade's red flushed face. “What did I say?” 

“You can't seriously fucking think-”

“I said don't stop.”

“You are literally eating my ass right now and you want me to care about some fucking eggs?”

“Stop and I’ll stop,” Logan said, then leaned in to get back to work.

Wade cursed under his breath, torn between annoyance and being so fucking turned on he could hardly think straight. He slammed the pan onto the heated stove top with more force than necessary, twitching his hips forward to try to escape the intensity of Logan’s tongue. It felt fucking good, of course it did, but how in ever loving fuck was he supposed to fucking do this?

Logan followed the movement, tightening his grip, one of his claws nicking Wade’s waist in the process. Wade moaned, shaky and wet, and Logan growled lowly in response, pausing in his torment of Wade’s ass. He trailed his tongue up to the cut, then licked over it to collect the slowly welling blood until it closed over.

While one of Wade’s hands tightened around the handle to the oven, threatening to rip it right off its hinges, he used his other to lift the bowl and pour the egg mixture onto the pan. 

The sizzling of the eggs wasn’t enough to cover up Wade’s shout as Logan wrapped a hand around his dick - returning to his task of rimming Wade and forcing him to fuck forward into the tight grip of his warm fingers.

Wade slapped his hand around blindly for the spatula, grabbed it, and then began pushing the eggs around in the pan haphazardly, panting. Logan slipped his tongue down further, tonguing at Wade’s balls, then back up, the wet sound of his tongue ringing in Wade’s ears. 

Wade wished they were on the bed so he could shove his face into his pile of pillows, get on his knees and spread his legs, let Logan really mess him up.

A slap on his ass brought his attention back to reality and the egg mixture starting to solidify in the pan. Wade scooted them around some, trying to make sure they all got evenly cooked, although honestly, if they got burned or turned out like shit, he could hardly be blamed. 

Luckily, Logan decided to finally have mercy on him. With one last nip of teeth, Logan stood back up, pressing himself against Wade's back. His trapped erection butted against Wade's ass in horrible teasing motion. 

One of Logan's hands slid down Wade's stomach to rest just above his cock, while the other found a nipple and began rolling it between his fingers.

“Whatever kink this is, I hate it,” Wade hissed, hand shooting forward at the stimulation almost hard enough to send the eggs flying out of the pan..

“This says differently,” Logan said, tucking his face into the side of Wade's neck while his hand wrapped around Wade's cock again.

“Yeah, well, h-he’s not really a good judge of character, in my - hmmm - experience.”

Logan chuckled, low and drenched with arousal, the vibrations tingling up Wade’s neck. “That’s for fucking sure,” Logan said, pressing the words into Wade’s skin. “Looks like they’re finally done.”

Wade refocused and sure as shit, the scrambled eggs were looking fully cooked, maybe just slightly erring on the side of overdone. Wade shoved the pan onto the back burner so it was off the heat and then pushed back against Logan, reaching to grab onto the other man’s hips.

“Alright, babycakes, I did what you wanted, now come on- ” 

Right after the words left Wade’s mouth, Logan let him go entirely, stepping back from Wade and moving around to be closer to the counter. “I told you I’m hungry.”

Wade froze, teetering on the edge of the most insane crash out of his life. 

“ Really? ”

Logan grabbed a plate from the cabinet and started scooping the eggs onto it, talking over his shoulder. “Go sit on the couch.”

Wade’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. He could feel a creeping sense of embarrassment wash over him, but also the warm flush of arousal. What the fuck?

He waddled over to the couch, all too aware of his cock hard and bouncing between his legs. He plopped down and sunk into the couch cushions, legs crossed and head leaning on his shoulder. He felt like a mess of emotions, a certified frat party jungle juice pitcher of annoyance and horiness and confusion and glee. Maybe he was also just hungry.

Logan sat down beside him a moment later, the plate of eggs in one hand with a fork balancing precariously on top and a beer in the other. He placed the plate down on the armrest, then patted his lap. “Come here.”

For once, Wade decided not to argue. He was so touch-starved, he might have done anything to get Logan’s hands on him.

It was a slightly awkward position, considering Wade was a full grown 6 foot 2 man, but he made it work, settling himself in the spread of Logan’s thighs and looping one of his arms around Logan’s shoulders. He could feel the rough fabric of Logan’s jeans against his balls and cock, the perfect texture to rut against, but he held himself still.

“Eat,” Logan said, holding up a forkful of eggs to Wade’s mouth. 

Wade rolled his eyes, but leaned forward anyway and took the food into his mouth, watching as Logan’s pupils started to expand. The eggs weren’t bad, though they honestly could have tasted like actual horse shit and Wade wouldn’t have noticed, too focused on Logan’s slightly parted mouth, the heat of their bodies pressed together, the hungry look in Logan’s eyes.

Logan took his own bite, then fed Wade some more, and this was definitely some kind of kink of his because as they continued, Logan’s eyes started to haze over and his purring got louder, vibrating against Wade’s chest, drowning out the sound of whatever stupid house flipper show Logan had turned on.

It was strangely intimate, being fed and taken care of, the two of them not saying a word but still comfortable in the extended silence. Wade felt a flush color his cheeks, unrelated to his steady arousal.

When the eggs were done, Logan tossed the plate carelessly onto the floor, and shoved Wade onto the couch so he was laid out on his back, looking up as Logan kneeled over him. 

Logan tugged off his tank top, popped the cap off his beer, and took a deep swing, staring down at Wade with a heated gaze.

Logan’s eyes were circled with red, filled with a heady hunger that had Wade spreading his legs and throwing his arms over his head, inviting Logan to join him. “You still hungry, big guy?” Wade teased, pushing his chest up. 

Logan’s eyes immediately zeroed in, mouth parting on a heavy breath, flashing his teeth. Wade felt his cock jump against his stomach, begging for any sort of attention. Soon , Wade reassured his poor dick, flashing a grin up at Logan. We’ve almost got him.

Wade slowly moved one of his hands, like prey trapped under the sharp watch of a predator. Logan followed the movement, watching as Wade trailed the hand over his own chest, thumbing briefly at a nipple, then down, further, dancing along the edge of his dick, and finally slipping between his legs. He brushed his fingers against his hole, still wet from Logan’s tongue. 

Logan lunged forward, a growl ripping from his throat. The beer bottle flew from his hand, landing somewhere on the ground below them with the sound of shattering glass. Logan landed on top of Wade, all 300 pounds of adamantium skeleton and pure fucking muscle slamming Wade into the couch cushions. 

He grabbed Wade’s jaw, tilted his head up, and then plunged his tongue into Wade’s mouth. Wade groaned, sealing their lips together and teasing his tongue against Logan’s. 

Yeah, maybe Logan was definitely crushing Wade’s lungs with his huge fucking man tits, but how could he ever complain about a blessing like that? Who needed to breathe when you had The Wolverine’s tongue down your throat?

Wade lifted his legs to cage Logan against him, making his cock rub up against Logan’s jeans with a dizzying amount of friction. Logan’s hands grabbed onto the underside of Wade’s thighs, pushing them back until Wade felt his muscles start to strain as he was nearly bent in half. Wade pulled his mouth away with a ‘pop’, gasping for air. 

Logan immediately moved down, keeping Wade’s thighs securely held, and bit into the front of Wade’s throat. Wade whimpered in pain, a trickle of precum leaking from the tip of his dick. He grabbed onto Logan’s back, fingers scrambling to find purchase on the sweat drenched skin, while Logan dug his teeth in harder.

“Logan. . .” Wade breathed  - unbearably turned on, but aware Logan was just a smidge more pressure away from doing some actual damage and ending their fun early.

Logan grunted and loosened his bite, dragging his tongue apologetically across the deep marks he left behind. He moved lower, pressing nipping kisses down Wade’s body through the material of his shirt, until he reached his straining cock. Logan spread Wade’s legs wider, exposing him even more.

Wade fought against the urge to cover himself, instead relaxing his muscles to make it easier for Logan to move him how he wanted. Logan licked a hot striped up Wade’s cock, collecting the leaking precum, and then sunk his mouth around the shaft, all the way down until he could swallow around it. 

Wade shouted, legs instinctually trying to close, but Logan held them in place with barely any effort. His fingers dug bloody crescents into Logan’s back as he moaned, pinned in place, unable to thrust up or do anything except beg Logan for more.

Logan’s mouth was so fucking hot and wet, and his tongue played skillfully with the tip of Wade’s cock. His canines occasionally scraped against the sensitive skin, adding an element of danger to the overwhelming pleasure Wade was feeling. 

“Wolvie, please. . .” Wade panted, unsuccessfully fighting against Logan’s hold. “Let me move, come on, I need it.”

Instead of letting go, Logan pulled back, breathing deeply and glancing up at Wade through half hooded eyes. A trail of saliva dripped from his mouth and god he looked like a wild fucking animal, hungry and panting.

Logan’s gaze twitched down and he pushed against Wade’s legs, bending him even further in half so he could stare at Wade’s ass. “Gonna fuck you,” Logan ground out, glass against concrete, swaying forward like he just couldn’t help himself.

“Yes, yes, come on, baby, get in me,” Wade said, wiggling his ass as much as he was able. 

Logan growled and dropped Wade’s legs, pulling back so he could start shimming out of his jeans and underwear. Wade dove his hand between the couch cushions, feeling around for the small bottle of lube he’d tucked away. His fingers closed around something soft and he pulled it out, holding up the pillowcase Logan kept stored there.

“I keep forgetting to annoy you for answers about this,” Wade teased, waving the pillowcase in front of Logan’s face. Logan snatched it out of Wade’s hands with a grunt and shoved it back in place behind him.

“Get the fucking lube.”

“Hold on, hold on.” Wade reached back in, bypassing quarters and bottle caps, until he touched plastic. “There it is!”

Wade pulled the bottle out, holding it triumphantly. Logan took the lube and went to start pouring some on his fingers, but paused, face twisted in annoyance. Wade looked over to see Logan’s claws were fully extended, which was not optimal if Logan wanted to finger him open.

“Give it here, baby cakes, I can do it,” Wade said, making a grabby hand at the lube bottle.

Logan handed it over, looking disappointed, but his demeanor quickly changed once Wade started getting to work. Wade poured a generous amount of lube all over his hand, then placed the bottle next to him. He stretched out his body, looking up at Logan, and moved his lubed fingers back to his hole, while his other hand closed around his dick.

“Too bad we weren’t rated NC-17, or we could have been doing this on the big screen,” Wade said, circling one finger around his rim.

“Shut up. Fucking put your fingers in.”

“I’ve changed my mind again, romance is definitely dead, and you killed it. With your claws,” Wade said, shaking his head. He pressed his middle finger inside, gasping at the feeling. It had been a while since he’d had to finger himself since he loved Logan opening him up so much. The lube made the stretch easy, and Wade was far past impatient, so he quickly added another finger, twisting them up while jerking his cock in time with the movement.

He glanced over at Logan and moaned, clenching down on his fingers. Logan was staring at where Wade’s fingers stretched out his hole like a starving man presented with a feast, his large hand working over his cock with quick strokes, the metal of his claws catching the glint of their ceiling light as they moved up and down. 

He needed that big dick in him fucking yesterday. 

Wade shoved another finger in, gritting his teeth against the slight sting but too eager to give a shit. He moved them in and out a handful of times, making sure to do a good enough job so Logan wouldn’t berate him for rushing. Just as he was debating the need for a fourth, Logan let go of his own cock and knelt down, getting his hands back on Wade’s thighs and his tongue sliding against Wade’s stretched hole.

Wade yelped, kicking his foot out and accidentally catching Logan in the shoulder, but Logan didn’t stop. He pushed his tongue between the gaps in Wade’s spread fingers, wiggling his way inside Wade’s hole. 

“W-Wolvie, fuck!” Wade stuttered, feeling dizzy with the dual pleasurable sensations. 

With one more lick, Logan gently coaxed out Wade’s fingers and slid up Wade’s body, pinning him down again. Wade could feel Logan’s thick cock resting against his hip, sliding against his skin. Logan’s eyes looked redder, more unfocused than before and his lips were pulled back into a snarl as he pushed his hips forward.

“I’ve got you, sweetie pie,” Wade said, reaching down to wrap his hand around Logan’s cock and direct it towards his hole. Logan rutted into his hand, always so fucking over eager. Wade pressed Logan’s dick against his rim and let out a choked off gasp as Logan immediately pushed in, filling him about halfway in just one thrust. “Sweet holy mother of shit!”

After a week of not having it inside of him, Logan’s cock felt fucking massive. Not as intense as that multi-chaptered gap between the car sex and Logan bending him over the kitchen counter, but still enough to make Wade’s toes curl and his eyes water. Fuck, it felt so fucking good to be full again.

“Good?” Logan grunted, stilling himself with a surprising amount of restraint considering how heavy his breathing was. 

“Yep, yeah, soooo good, keep going, come on, Wolvie. Give me all of it.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. Using his grip on Wade’s thighs as leverage, he pushed forward, shoving himself the rest of the way in until his hips pressed against Wade’s ass. 

Logan let out a heavy, loud groan, twitching forward like he could gain just one more inch if he tried hard enough. “So fucking good and tight,” he mummered out, pressing the words to the hinge of Wade’s jaw. “Always so fucking tight for me.”

“Come on, sweetums, you gotta move. Fuck me like I’ve been needing you to.”

Logan pulled his hips back until just the tip of his cock was inside of Wade, then slammed forward, starting an unrelenting, rough pace that sent Wade gasping and moaning with every thrust. He looped his arms around Logan’s back and held on for dear life as Logan fucked into him like a jackhammer. The strain in his legs was forgotten under the onslaught of stimulation, especially when Logan accidentally brushed against his prostate.

Wade cried out, tensing around Logan as a bolt of pleasure shot up his spine. Logan huffed, digging his teeth under Wade’s ear and changing his angle just enough to slam into Wade’s prostate with every hit. He pushed down on Wade’s thighs even further - oh god maybe Logan really was just going to snap him in half, what a way to go - and plunged inside, covering Wade so completely it felt as if the entire world had disappeared.

There was only Logan’s huge fucking cock, stretching him open, filling him so fucking well, making his head spin and his cock leak and his eyes water from how good it all felt.

“Right there, baby, come on, fuck me, mess me up, yes, fuck! Yes .”

Wade wasn’t surprised to already feel the quick stuttering of Logan’s hips, a sure sign he was reaching his limit. When Logan got this wound up, he usually came pretty fast and then could go for several more rounds - Wade was not against the idea of them going at it like rabbits all day, considering it had been a fucking week since the last time.

Wade deliberately clenched down and moved one of his hands to Logan’s hair, tugging at the strands. “You close, Wolvie? Gonna cum inside me?”

Logan moaned around his mouthful of skin, drool trailing from the corners of his mouth. He released Wade’s thighs, letting them fall on either side of his waist, and grabbed Wade’s hips instead. He started yanking Wade’s body onto his thrusts, hilting him with every movement.

He only lasted a few more moments before cumming, falling forward onto Wade and pushing himself as deep as he could. Wade felt Logan’s cum shoot inside of him and he almost followed him over the edge from the sensation alone.

Logan panted against his ear, hips twitching forward in small, aborted little thrusts. His hands rubbed circles into the side of Wade’s hips and he came down from his high. A pleased purr rumbled through his body - Wade could feel it where they were still connected, like a vibrating dildo.

Wade let out a weak moan, reaching down to grab onto his cock to try and get himself off, but his hand was intercepted by Logan’s fingers circling around his wrist. Logan guided Wade’s hands up over his head, crossing his wrists and pinning them in place. He moved back so he was no longer laying on top of Wade, but he didn’t pull out.

Logan looked so fucking hot in that moment, hair mussed by Wade’s fingers, skin glistening with sweat, eyes still heavy with arousal and feral red. “You gonna get me off, sweetheart?” Wade said, clenching down on Logan’s still hard cock. “I think I’ve earned it.”

Logan moaned through his teeth, twitching his hips forward, and then stilled. He shook his head, then refocused on Wade, the red ebbing slightly from his eyes. “It’s not over yet.”

“I sure hope not. If you ask me, we need to make up for lost time, I’m thinking at least another three-”

“My day. It’s not over yet.”

Wade raised his brow bone, giving Logan an incredulous look. “And?”

“I still get to tell you what to do. Cooking wasn’t the only thing, we just got. . . sidetracked.”

“You fucking my brains out was us getting sidetracked? ”

“Yep.”

“That is a crazy thing to say from someone who still has their cock in my ass.”

Logan looked down at where they were still connected, a flash of red going across his vision. He gritted his teeth like he was in pain and tugged his hips back, dislodging his cock. It was still hard, so it slapped up against his stomach, big and thick and fuck Wade really wanted to get his mouth on it, why were they still even talking?

“Why don’t you just lay back and let me take care of you this time?” Wade said, sitting up as gracefully as he was able. He placed his hands on Logan’s thighs, leaning into his space. “You know they don’t just call me the ‘Merc with the Mouth’ because I talk too much.”

Logan glanced down at Wade’s mouth with a flash of hunger. “No,” he said. “Not yet.”

“Ugh! You are literally the worst!” Wade whined, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought we were past whatever weird kink you had us doing before!”

Logan reached down and grabbed his boxers, sliding them on over his straining erection while Wade pouted in his direction. “I make the rules today,” Logan said, standing up. “Wait here.”

Wade fell over onto his side on the couch, groaning in annoyance. He was still hard as a fucking rock and his ass was leaking cum and for some reason Logan was still hyperfocused on this stupid fucking bet. Wade was almost tempted to reached down and just get himself off anyway, but he knew it would only make Logan even less likely to fuck him again - Wade was still holding out hope he’d wind up with Logan on top of him again soon.

A few minutes later, Logan dropped several items onto the couch: a bottle of Fabuloso, a cleaning towel, and a pair of latex gloves. “Althea wants us to clean up before some of her bingo friends come over this weekend. You’re gonna help.”

Wade gaped at Logan like he’d just grown two heads and four extra sets of claws. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope,” Logan said, rounding the couch and plopping down next to the cleaning supplies. He had three beers tucked between his fingers and he dropped them onto the side table before grabbing one. “Clean the coffee table.”

“I knew this was some weird house wifey kink thing!” Wade said, getting to his feet and pointing an accusatory finger at Logan. “So what’s the angle? You get to see me bend over a bunch while I clean and you sit on your ass drinking beer? Just what kind of porn have you been watching?”

Logan just shrugged in response, bringing the beer to his lips and taking a big swig. 

“And what if I don’t want to, huh?”

“Then we’re done for the day.”

“No more sex?”

“No more sex.”

Wade threw his hands up in exasperation, toying with the idea of just walking away and maintaining his pride - but his stupid fucking cock wouldn’t let him. Traitor.

“Fine! I’ll humor this for now! Make sure you get a good, long look, you weirdo!”

Wade grabbed the cleaner and slammed it on the coffee table, rattling the glass top. He pulled the latex gloves with a snap , wishing they were actual sexy latex clothes and not cleaning ones. He then grabbed the slightly damp towel and turned away from Logan to get to work.

He drizzled a nonsensical pattern of soap onto the table and then leaned forward to start scrubbing it down. The coffee table was fairly short, so he had to bend over a bit to really put his arm into the movement. Logan’s shirt rode up his back with every movement, flashing his ass, and that must be the appeal of it, right? Every time he leaned over, Logan was no doubt getting an eyeful of Wade’s ass and freshly fucked hole.

If the low purr coming from behind Wade was any indication, he was right on the money. Maybe he could work with this.

Wade leaned forward deliberately far on the next pass over the table, pushing his butt out a little higher than slightly necessary. He could feel a dribble of cum leak from his ass and trail down his leg, and judging by the low growl following that, Logan could see it, too.

“Okay, so maybe it is a little hot,” Wade admitted, feeling his face flush as he dragged the towel over the glass without really paying attention. “But next time at least get me a cute little maid dress or something, it would really add to the story. You know like I’m the poor, innocent little house keeper you hired who's trying to make some extra money for school and you’re the rich, sleazy homeowner who likes to watch me clean.”

Logan hummed in the way he usually did when he wasn’t actually listening to what Wade was saying. Wade rolled his eyes and let it go, hoping that at least when he was done with this, Logan would finally be satisfied enough to drop the roleplay and get back to the fucking.

Wade took his time, moving deliberately slow to draw it out. The table was actually kind of messy - he wasn’t the cleanest person on the planet, okay, sue him - so at least all this bullshit wasn’t for nothing.

With one last wipe, Wade dropped the soggy towel onto the table and ripped off the gloves, tossing them onto the pile. “There, all clean. Now,” Wade said, spinning around to face Logan, who was already most of the way through his second beer. Wade moved over to him, a slight sway in his step, and leaned forward to cage Logan against the back of the couch with his arms. “Where were we?”

“You were gonna put away the laundry,” Logan replied, eyes trailing up and down Wade’s body with a burning stare. 

Wade deflated like a popped balloon, falling forward onto Logan’s chest. “Nooooooooo,” he grumbled into Logan’s chest. “No more chores, I want to have sex.”

“My day.”

“I don’t care about your day!” Wade said, reaching a boiling point. He pulled back from Logan with a huff. “We can clean the house whenever!”

“And I’m telling you to do it now.”

“Come on! Ogling my ass can’t be better than actually having sex with it!”

“You said I win, I get to tell you what to do. That was the deal.”

“Well fuck the deal, this sucks! It was sexy for like a second, but now I’m over it. I’m getting changed.” Wade moved to get up and storm off towards his bed, but Logan’s hand whipped up, grabbing onto the back of his neck and pushing until Wade landed face down on the couch cushions with his ass sticking up in the air. Logan kept his hand there, holding Wade in place, while his other hand pushed up the shirt until it pooled around Wade’s arms.

“What did you say I should do the next time you piss me off?” Logan said in a low voice, one hand moving to drag along Wade’s lower back.

Oh. Oh. So this was Logan’s angle.

“S-spank me?” Wade said, feeling blood start to rush very quickly towards his dick.

Logan hummed in agreement, moving the hand down to grab Wade’s ass firmly. “And what are you doing right now?”

“Pissing you off?”

“Exactly.”

Wade felt the hand leave his ass and braced himself, fingers digging into the couch cushions. If he was Marvel Jesus, then there was most certainly a Marvel God, and Wade sent up a series of quick praises to that higher power just before Logan’s hand connected to his ass. 

Wade yelped, involuntarily twitching forward, face squishing against the cushions. The slap wasn’t particularly hard, not even close to what Logan was really capable of, but it left behind a pleasant sting.

Logan gripped Wade’s ass in his hand, rubbing where he had just hit. “Yes or no?” Logan said, voice thick with arousal.

“Yep, yes, absolutely, 100%, uh huh, yes, yes,” Wade said. He was having a hard time believing this was actually happening, but even if it was some horny induced hallucination, he was going to follow it all the way through.

Logan wasted no time. Wade felt the next slap only seconds later, harder than the last. The hit itself was nice, a quick burst of delicious pain, but the warmth radiating across his skin afterwards was Wade’s favorite part. Wade wished he didn’t have such a good healing factor, that later tonight he could lift up his shirt and see Logan’s handprint branding his skin.

“Harder,” Wade moaned, pushing his ass back towards Logan. “I wanna feel that super strength, Peanut, come on.

The next three slaps were in quick succession, no breaks in between, with each hit harder than the last. Logan alternated where each hit went, changing from the right cheek, to the left, and then a particularly hard one on Wade’s upper thigh.

Wade’s mouth was open, panting against the pain, a string of drool pooling against the couch cushions. He blinked back tears and begged Logan for more, chasing the hot, pulsing warmth emanating from each hit. 

He could hear Logan’s heavy breathing behind him and the low timber of his growl. Wade could only imagine the view - his still wet hole, straining cock, and cherry red ass all on display for Logan’s hungry eyes. 

Wade felt fingers slip between his cheeks and slide against his hole, not trying to push in, but rubbing against it teasingly. The hand pulled away, and seconds later, came down on the same spot with a strong slap.

“Ah!”

If the hits to his ass were good, this was fucking bliss. Wade felt his eyes roll up into his head as he rocked his hips back into the motion, pleading with nonsensical noises for Logan to do it again, please, pretty please, god fucking do it again.

Wade made it through two more hits before he came, letting out a startled gasp and coming against the couch, cock untouched. He collapsed forward, boneless, feeling a pleasant warmth tingle across his entire body.

“Oh my fucking God, ” Wade panted, stretching his arms out in front of him. “I think I’m going to have to rearrange my list of hottest fucking things that have ever happened to me. This definitely cracks the top three, no fucking contest.”

Wade heard a quick shuffling sound and then Logan was laying on top of him again, sans boxers, caging his body in. His arms landed on either side of Wade’s head, and through his slightly fuzzy vision, he could see the tips of Logan’s claws starting to peek out of his knuckles. 

Logan tucked his face against Wade’s neck, breathing harshly. His cock, hard as a fucking rock - Jesus Marvel Christ - prodded at Wade’s ass, slipping between the cheeks to bump against his hole. “Can I. . .?” Logan muttered, pushing his hips forward just enough so Wade’s rim parted around the tip of his cock.

Now Wade was tired, and definitely not that stretched open anymore, and his ass was still on fire from the series of hits he had just received - but the idea of Logan fucking him loose and happy after his orgasm after spanking the shit of him was WAY too good to pass up.

“Yeah, babycakes, yeah, hold on,” Wade said, blindly patting around the couch until he found the abandoned bottle of lube. With a bit of maneuvering, Wade was able to squirt some onto his hand and reach down between their bodies to grab Logan’s cock. He gave it a few strokes, feeling Logan’s stuttered moans against his neck. “Okay, you can move. Get back inside me.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. The second Wade’s hand moved back up to his head, Logan was pushing forward, sliding his dick all the way inside in one long thrust. Wade whimpered, overwhelmed at the burning pressure. Logan licked Wade’s neck apologetically, moving his hands to intertwine with Wade’s fingers stretched out over the couch. 

Wade tightened his fingers around Logan’s in a death grip as Logan finally bottomed out, hips pressing against Wade’s still warm and stinging ass. “Fuck, Wolvie, fuck, oh my god.”

“Tight. . .” Logan muttered, twitching his hips upwards. He moved his knees just slightly to push Wade’s out more, letting him slide forward just another half inch.

Wade felt covered completely, totally encased by Logan, like there no longer existed a point where either of them began or ended. Logan was so deep inside of him he could have sworn he felt it in his throat.

“You always take me so good,” Logan said, pulling his hips back only a few inches before pushing back inside. “You were fucking built to take my cock.”

Wade twitched in Logan’s hold, feeling his cock start to fill again. His praise kink was almost as bad as Logan’s and the words plus the sensation of being fucked was doing numbers on Wade’s brain. He felt like it was melting out of his ears, any thoughts he might be able to have sliding into the couch cushions and disappearing forever. 

Logan started a slow, but heavy rhythm, receding inch by inch and then thrusting all the way back in, punching thick moans out of Wade’s mouth. He put his teeth on the back of Wade’s neck, but didn’t bite down, just holding him in place while his cock stirred Wade up inside.

Wade felt lulled into a sort of happy fog, his body going loose in Logan’s arms. His cock ached against his stomach, but he barely paid it any attention, mind too full of the feeling of Logan’s thick cock prying him open over and over again, careful to avoid his prostate.

Wade could almost have fallen asleep like that, rocked by the steady rhythm of their bodies sliding together, if Logan hadn’t pulled his mouth away, turned Wade’s head just slightly, and plunged his tongue into Wade’s mouth.

The touch of their tongues sent the fire roaring through Wade again, snapping him out of his haze to moan loudly. He gave as good as he got, sucking Logan’s tongue into his mouth and shoving his hips back onto Logan’s cock, keeping pacing as their movements got faster and faster.

Logan changed his angle to hit Wade’s prostate dead on and Wade was so, so thankful Edith’s apartment was further down the hall so her and Althea probably wouldn’t hear the way he shouted Logan’s name, tensing around his cock like a vice and cumming so hard he saw stars dancing in his vision.

Logan growled into his mouth, teeth catching against Wade’s lower lip as he came, filling Wade up with hot spurts of cum. He licked up the welling blood as his hips stilled, buried to the hilt, pressing Wade’s body firmly into the couch cushions.

Wade’s head lolled, dislodging their mouths and dropping against the couch. He breathed heavily against the fabric, trying to form a single coherent thought.

Logan let go of Wade’s hands and moved back, pulling out his cock. Wade whined at the sudden emptiness, unable to help the way he squirmed at the loss of contact. He felt Logan’s hand start to push him over and he rolled onto his back, blearily looking up at the ceiling. He could already feel his healing factor start to work across his body, dulling the stinging of his ass and the burning of his muscles.

Logan came into view above him, gloriously naked and incredibly beautiful framed by the halo of their ceiling light. Wade raised his hands up above his head, reaching for Logan like trying to touch the sun.

Logan shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips, and reached down to scoop Wade up into his arms. The walk to Wade’s bed was brief, but Wade loved every second of being cradled next to Logan’s chest until he was deposited on to the mattress.

He stretched out over the rumbled sheets, cracking his joints. The fog from earlier was starting to clear and he let himself enjoy the lovely warmth all over his skin. God, having sex with Logan was better than a full body massage.

Wade wasn’t surprised when Logan joined him on the bed further down. Logan grabbed a thigh in each hand and moved Wade’s legs apart until he could slide in between them. His mouth pressed kisses down Wade’s thigh until he reached his ass, then he looked up, asking permission.

Wade’s brain was still rebooting, so he just gave Logan a thumbs up and a dopey smile.

Logan pried open Wade’s cheeks and he went to work, twisting his tongue into Wade’s hole. He lapped at the furled muscle with long licks, collecting the escaping cum on his tongue and then going back for more.

It almost didn’t even really feel sexual to Wade, just intensely intimate as Logan cleaned him up, careful to get every drop. It sent lovely tingles up Wade’s body, but his cock was spent and no longer seemed interested in the proceedings. At least for now, give the little guy a few minutes and who knows what could happen.

When Logan finished, he rubbed at Wade’s thighs, soothing the muscle and looked up at Wade. “You good?”

“I’m so good, sweetie pie,” Wade sighed, stretching happily. “I’m just glad we finally got past all your weird cleaning kink stuff.”

“It’s not a kink,” Logan huffed, dropping Wade’s legs and moving up till they were face to face. “And you’re still going to clean.”

Wade frowned, considered arguing, and then tucked the annoyance away to deal with later. 

“Less talking, more smooching,” Wade said, grabbing Logan’s head and pulling him into a heavy kiss, already thinking of all the bets he needed to make up and definitely win so he could get Logan back for this.

***

They laid together in the afterglow - when they finally stopped fooling around for more than five seconds - Logan with his head on Wade’s chest, rumbling with a gentle purr while Wade’s fingers tugged through his hair. Logan’s hand was wrapped around the underside of Wade’s thigh, his thumb tracing idle patterns into the skin, careful to avoid any overly sensitive areas.

Wade was more fucked out than he could ever remember feeling, loose and happy, a little sore, but in the kind of way that felt oh so fucking good. Logan was so warm on top of him, like a hairy, well-muscled blanket. The vibrations from his purring lulled Wade into a relaxed fog. 

Wade had pulled away only briefly to order them some food on the phone, holding back giggles as Logan pressed kisses along his spine. 

Time faded away into a sort of goopy soup, measured only by the soft breaths Logan released against his chest, the gentle press of his fingers against Wade’s thigh, the occasional soft nip of his teeth.

Wade slid his fingers along the side of Logan’s head, brushing aside the wild strands of hair sticking in all directions, and scratched softly beside his ear.

“Petting me like a dog. . .” Logan mumbled against Wade’s skin, tilting his head up just enough to glare through half-lidded eyes. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t be so pettable,” Wade said, pulling his hand back. 

In retaliation, Logan sunk his teeth into Wade’s pec, not drawing blood but deep enough to leave behind the impression of his teeth. Wade let out a moan mixed with a laugh, throwing his arms up over his head to stretch out and give Logan an unobstructed view of more skin.

“Bad dog,” Wade teased, pushing his chest up against Logan’s mouth. “No biting.”

“I’ll show you biting,” Logan said, a red flush creeping across his face.

The next several minutes were spent with Logan doing exactly that, scattering bites and hickeys all up Wade’s chest to his neck. He paused when he found a particularly sweet spot that made Wade moan like a porn star, worrying the skin between his teeth and bruising it with his lips.

Wade moved his legs up to bracket Logan’s hips, internally asking his healing factor if just one more round would be a bad idea, when there was a sharp knock on the door. 

Logan paused mid bite, eyes darting over to the door, a scary (not sexy this time, there was a difference!) growl starting to build in the back of his throat.

“It’s probably just the pizza guy, snookums,” Wade reassured, dropping his legs down in defeat. Maybe they could go again after pizza, because Wade was starving. 

Logan grunted, then pulled his teeth away from Wade’s neck. He flopped over so he was no longer laying on top of Wade and stretched out, putting all his muscled, sweaty body on display for Wade’s eager eyes. Okay, okay, maybe the pizza man could wait five minutes or so, just enough time for Wade to suck Logan’s brains out through his dick.

Another knock, this time harder, snapped Wade out of his runaway thoughts.

“You gonna get that?” Logan said, nodding towards the door.

“Seriously?” Wade whined, rolling over onto his stomach. “After everything you just put me through? Now you're also making me get up to answer the door? This is abuse.”

“It's still my day.”

“Ugh! Remind me to never make another bet with you ever again, you heartless bastard!”

Wade got up off the bed with a grumble, stumbling on his feet. He reached down and grabbed the first clothing item he could find - Logan's black boxer briefs - and tugged them on.

“You're lucky I really want pizza. . .” Wade mumbled under his breath, heading towards the door. With a long suffering, overly dramatic sigh, Wade pulled open the door just enough to peek outside and not expose Logan's lounging form to prying eyes.

“Ah, it’s just the landlady, unfortunately,” Wade said loudly, looking Scott Fucking Summers dead in the eye. “You stay put, Wolvie, I’ll handle this. BRB!”

Wade shut the door firmly behind him and walked a little ways down the hall. He turned around, arms crossed over his chest, to face Scott. “Now what the fuck are you doing outside my apartment, Summertime?”

Scott opened his mouth like he was about to speak, then shut it quickly. Although Wade couldn’t actually see Scott’s eyes, he could tell where they were looking, darting up and down Wade’s mostly naked form.

Which was the moment Wade remembered what exactly he was wearing - a criminally short pair of boxer briefs and a quickly healing smattering of hickeys across his neck and chest.

Shit.

Well, there went that cat flying out of the goddamn bag at mach fucking 5. 

Wade fought back the instinctual urge to cover himself. He cocked his hip out to the side, plastering on a confidant smirk. “Like what you see?” Wade teased. “Careful with the staring or I might just have to call up dear old Jean.”

Scott tore his gaze away quickly, a flush spreading across his neck. He gritted his teeth and looked at the ground, aiming his words at the cracked tile flooring. 

“Do you always answer the door half-naked?”

“Only for prudes like you,” Wade said, popping his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I was busy before you came a-knocking. The naked kind of busy, if you get my drift.”

Scott huffed, tilting his head just slightly up. “Busy with. . . Logan?”

Wade tensed for a second, glancing down the hall at his apartment. He pictured Logan still spread out over the bed, sheets pooled around his waist, half-lidded eyes on the other side of the door, waiting for Wade to slip back into the warm circle of his arms.

Wade was a guy of many words - many, many, many words, some would say - yet even he couldn’t seem to find the right ones at that moment. 

If it was his call, Wade would shout it from the rooftops, let the entire fucking world know, how he and Logan were together, doing the devil’s tango, kissing and cuddling and holding hands and every other coupley thing Wade could think of. 

But he knew it wasn’t his call - it was Logan’s.

“How did you even find out where I live, Scotty boy?” Wade said, pivoting the topic and hoping Scott had sense enough not to push, or Wade was going to have to push back - as in push Scott down the fucking stairs.

“Negasonic told me,” Scott admitted after a beat of tense silence, now looking at a spot over Wade’s shoulder while he spoke. “I asked Laura, but all she did was confirm the two of you were living together. She said Logan would come to the school when he was ready and I shouldn’t push.”

“And yet here. You. Are.” Wade took a step closer to Scott, manic grin falling into something a little more serious, but no less intimidating. “Should have listened to the girl, Scott, she’s full of really good ideas. Especially about leaving Logan the fuck alone. Also, remind me later to take Negasonic off my Christmas list, I can’t believe she fucking doxxed me.”

“Listen, I just came to talk to Logan. I need to ask him -”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Wade cut Scott off, waggling a finger in front of Scott’s scowl. “You don’t need to talk to Logan, you want to talk to him. Two very different things.”

“Fine, I want to talk -”

“Well we don’t always get what we want, do we!” Wade interrupted again, rejoicing in his continued success at riling Scott up. “Anyway, if Logan wanted to talk to you, he would have walked his muscular little ass down to the school and rang the doorbell, but he didn’t. So take the fucking hint.”

“Logan is part of the X-Men and -”

“BZZZT. Wrong again, Scotty! Your Logan was an X-Men. X-Man? Whatever. Your Logan is dead , okay? D. E. A. D. And I -”

“Watch it, Wilson -”

“ - I verified that information myself when I inappropriately danced to a BackStreet Boys song with his fucking skeleton to create one of the best openings to a superhero movie ever made -”

“What the fuck are you -”

“- so sorry for your fucking loss, but you don’t get to waltz in here and steal my Logan because yours got himself kicked out of the cinematic universe.” Wade got close to Scott’s face, feeling the almost irresistible desire to hit him in his nicely cut jaw. “I found several different Wolverine’s on my little journey through the multiverse, so how about you go get one of those to hero worship and leave this one alone?”

Scott breathed heavily through his nose, fists clenched at his side, and Wade wished Scott would hit him, punch him, give Wade any excuse to let out all the anger he was feeling. 

Because of fucking course, right? Wade had been begging for years to be part of the X-Men, to be taken seriously as a possible recruit, and so many times he’d been shot down. He was too violent, too messy, too unhinged, too morally compromised - or so they kept telling him.

But now that Logan was back, all those rules seem to go out the fucking window, which made it very clear to Wade that the X-Men didn’t really care about any of that shit - and they especially didn’t care about Wade.

He was sick to death (and he couldn’t even fucking die!) of their holier than thou attitudes and their matching costumes and their hypocrisy and their fucky ass timelines. 

Logan said before that wearing the suit meant he was an X-Man, and while that was all nice and nostalgic and poetic and whatever, the suit had been obliterated into a million Madonna powered pieces.

That meant Logan was a free agent, Wade’s free agent, and the X-Men could keep their grubby little hands to themselves.

“You aren’t in charge of him,” Scott said in a low, serious tone. “I don’t know what the two of you have going on, and I really don’t care. Logan, any Logan, is a part of the X-Men and deserves the chance to be one. You can’t let your own issues with us stop him from being where he is supposed to be. Or at least giving him the option to find out for himself what he actually wants.”

“What he wants ,” Wade stressed, pointing at a spot over Scott’s shoulder, “is the fucking pizza we ordered.”

Wade placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder and used the leverage to propel himself past Scott and towards the pizza man who was currently waiting at the top of the stairs, staring at both of them with frightened eyes.

Wade beat down his anger, smoothing over it with his usual slick charm. Scott fucking Summers wasn’t worth his time, especially when he had a big ol’ Wolvie waiting for him in his apartment , hungry and probably still a little horny.

“I’ll take those,” Wade said, voice sickly sweet as he plucked the three boxes of pizza from the man’s arms. “Sorry you had to see those fireworks, don’t worry, I left you an extra fat tip on the app. You’re the best.”

Wade booped the pizza guy on the nose and then swung back around towards his apartment door, turning his head in Scott’s direction. “What kind of pizza does Logan like?”

“What?” 

“ What kind of pizza does Logan like?”

“I don’t. . .I don’t know? Why does this matter?” Scott said, voice heavy with exasperation, arms crossed over his chest.

“Stuffed crust, white sauce, not red, jalapeños and bacon on the left, chicken on the right, feta cheese over the whole thing. Fucking weird, right?”

“I guess? Wade, listen, there are things happening, mutants at risk, the professor-”

“What’s his favorite kind of shitty beer?”

“If this is you trying to prove some kind of point-”

“Pabst Blue Ribbon. What’s his favorite color?”

“Wade-”

“Trick question! I don’t even know the answer to that one yet, he still hasn’t told me,” Wade smirked, staring Scott right in his red-lens-covered eyes. “But which of us do you think has the better chance of finding out?”

A moment of tense silence pulled between them, like bubblegum stretched too far. Wade was the first to break it, tilting his head to the side. “I know him better than you. I’ve known this Logan for longer than you. If he tells me he wants to come visit you panty wearing justice fuckers, then okay. But until then, don’t you even think of gracing my doorstep again, or I’ll punch those stupid nerd glasses into your head so hard you won’t have to worry about them falling off ever again. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Wade gave Scott a wiggly fingered wave then opened his apartment door with the pizzas cradled on his hip and slid inside. He waited just a beat to make sure he heard the sound of Scott’s footsteps leaving, before he spun around to face Logan, who was staring at him questioningly from the bed.

Wade put on a big grin, refocusing his attention on where it should be. “Look what showed up while I was yapping with the landlady. It’s pizza time, sugarbear. I call dibs on the garlic sauce!”

***

Chapter Text

***

Wade was lying to Logan. 

Okay, maybe lying was the wrong word. Stretching the truth. Or conveniently not mentioning certain information. 

Lying kind of implied he was doing something bad and he really wasn’t. Technically, he was doing Logan a favor. His intentions were good, and he’d been told multiple times throughout his life that intent is what really mattered. 

Intention was three-fourths of the law or something like that. Wade wasn’t a lawyer, but he did know a pretty good one who owed him a favor after a case of accidentally exposed identity. Maybe Wade should reach out anyway to get a living will set up just in case Logan found out what he was doing. 

He wasn’t at the bowling alley with Peter like he’d told Logan when he’d walked out the door that morning, blowing a kiss over his shoulder and stuffing his Deadpool suit hastily into his bag.

No. 

No, he was currently standing at the gates of Xavier’s School for Overachieving Assholes - or whatever it was called - in his full Deadpool getup, flipping baby knife in his hand. He’d been standing outside for about fifteen minutes, fully aware Charles probably already knew he was there.

Not exactly his first choice to solve his current issue, but after careful consideration (about five minutes of thinking a little too hard about it), two pieces of advice, and a few close encounters, he’d ended up here - seriously regretting the wambo combo decision of wearing head to toe leather and being too chicken shit to go inside.

***

The first piece of advice had come from his go to source of wisdom, Althea and Peter, his most trusted disciples - also known as the two people least likely to ignore his phone calls. 

“Scott said it was selfish,” Wade said, moving his letter titles to group them by type. What the fuck was he supposed to do with an ‘x’? “But how can it be selfish when I’m just doing what is best for Logan?”

Peter hummed, stroking a thumb across his moustache while squinting at the board. They were currently over at Peter's apartment for their weekly Scrabble session, a tradition that had morphed from simply an excuse to consistently see Mary Puppins into a competitive, multi-layered battle for glory. Mary Puppins was currently on her dog bed near the space heater, head resting on her paws. “Have you asked him what he wants to do?”

“Well, no,” Wade admitted, spinning the ‘x’ tile between his fingers. “But you should see (sorry, Althea), how he reacts whenever anyone brings it up. Like a cat when you run the vacuum cleaner.”

“Then how the hell do you know if it’s what’s best for him?” Althea said, placing an ‘s’ tile down at the end of Wade’s ‘peanut’ row. 

“You and your plurals,” Wade muttered under his breath. “And okay, maybe I don’t know for sure it is the best thing, but it has to be better than just letting him have like Nam flashbacks all the time, right?”

“So you’re just gonna lie to him?”

“Lie is a strong word.”

“It’s the correct word.”

“I agree with Althea,” Peter interjected, adding ‘luck’ to the end of Wade’s ‘pot.’ “Honesty is usually the best policy. You have to trust him.”

“Ugh!” Wade said, tossing the ‘x’ onto the table and pushing his chair away. “You guys are my friends, you’re supposed to support me and my shitty decisions. Whatever happened to loyalty?”

“I’m not going to support you being an idiot,” Althea scolded, rubbing the piece in her hand to feel the raised bumps along the surface. “Logan’s got a lot of issues, but he puts up with your shit and he’s good for you. And you’re gonna screw it up by being a goddamn moron.”

“You were in a weird funk for a long time. Then Logan showed up, and now you’re doing better than ever,” Peter said, no judgement in his voice. He looked up at Wade, giving him a toothy smile. “I think you should do your best to keep him around.”

“But you guys haven’t met those justice-loving, ass-kissing boy scouts that call themselves the X-Men,” Wade said. “Not the real ones, anyway. Colossus and Negasonic barely count. They have a way of getting inside your head. Literally! Charles will snoop around in there and yank out your childhood traumas and use them to give some stupid speech about responsibility and honor and shit like that. I just know they would manipulate Logan into joining. They are very sneaky!”

“You have to trust him, or what’s the point in even having him around?” Althea said. “He’s gonna make whatever choice he’s gonna make, and there’s nothing you can do about that. But you owe it to him to let him make it.”

Wade slumped across the back of the chair, staring out across the Scrabble board. He hated it when his friends were right. It was so hard to be self destructive when you had people looking out for you. “Ugh, fine. I’ll consider talking to him about it, okay? But I make absolutely no promises. Talking about your feelings is literally worse than getting shot in the head, and I would know.”

“If you screw this up, just make sure you find another roommate, this time one you ain’t sleeping with. I’m not going back to splitting the rent two ways because you’re a dumbass.”

“Your support means the world, Al, it really does.”

***

The second piece of advice came from a more unexpected source a few days later.

Wade took a large bite of the burrito in his hand, kicking his feet as they dangled over the edge of the building where he currently sat. Next to him, a rope was pulled taunt, anchored to a metal pipe sticking out of the roof. The rest of the rope trailed over the side and disappeared down towards the ground.

Wade sighed, staring down at the half-eaten burrito with a forlorn gaze. “Everyone tells me I should be honest with him, but they just don’t get it, you know? I can’t compete with the fucking X-Men . They have matching uniforms and funding and their own bedrooms! I don’t have any of those things!”

When he didn’t get a response, Wade glanced down over the ledge, catching the panicked eyes of the man hanging from the rope by his wrists. The man whimpered, wiggling from side to side, sweat sliding down his face to drip on to the concrete below. 

“Hey!” Wade shouted, jostling the rope. “Are you even listening to me?”

“I'm s-sorry!” The man cried, fingers scrabbling to find purchase. Wade had already forgotten his name, just knew the guy was some shitty drug dealer who liked to hang around the high school and got a little too overconfident when expanding his territory. Wade had taken the job without even really caring about the details, eager to find an excuse to blow off some steam.

“Ugh!” Wade groaned, feeling suddenly not very hungry at all. He chucked the burrito over the edge, mood improving slightly when it bounced off the guy's head. “Whoopsies, my bad. Maybe if you were a little more helpful I wouldn't have to resort to throwing things at you.”

“I'll tell you where I hid Ricky's stash, okay? I'm sorry, please just pull me up, please -”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ricky? The drugs I took from his -”

“I don't care about any of that!” Wade said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Were you really not listening to me ranting about my situationship with Wolvie for the past ten minutes?”

“I thought that was part of the torture. . .”

“Okay, rude.” Wade fell onto his side, cradling the edge of the roof and looking down towards the alley. “Listen, whatever your name is, I -”

“Brian -”

“Nobody cares. I need advice , okay? I like Wolvie, like a lot. Maybe a whole lot. But I can feel something is off. Maybe something with me?”

“M-maybe you guys should. . .uh, go to couple’s counseling?”

“But we’re not a couple! I just said that!” Wade said, rolling over so he fell face first onto the rooftop. He could almost feel the scratchy surface of the concrete on his face through the material of his mask, poking at his skin. The sounds of the city surrounded him - honking horns, the buzz of electricity, the low chatter of life rising from the sidewalk - but he could hardly hear any of it over the repeating mantra of self doubt in his head.

“There’s no room in his life for both me and the X-Men,” Wade mumbled, pressing his words against the stone. “He’d pick one, and it wouldn’t be me. Maybe I’m just trying to draw it out for as long as possible by not telling him about Scott. Selfish, huh?”

Silence followed the confession and it occurred to Wade how ridiculous it was to be airing out his relationship problems to a rando bad guy. He’d wanted a neutral party, someone with no stakes in the game to give him some impartial advice. How sad was that?

Wade reached down for baby knife, ready to cut the guy loose and go sulk somewhere else, when he got a response. “What if you were in the X-Men?”

Wade paused, knife hovering next to the rope. He pulled himself up and crawled over to the ledge, peeking his head over the side. The man was looking up at him desperately, long hair clinging to his sweat drenched face. 

“What did you say?”

“If y-you were an X-Men, he wouldn’t have to choose, right?”

Wade hooked his chin over the ledge, giving a sad half smile. “Ah, if only it were that easy, random bad guy. I’ve tried to get in with that sorority for years now and can never seem to get past the hazing stage. It is a nice thought, though, isn’t it? Anyway,” Wade said, lifting up his knife again to put it against the rope.

“Wait!”

“What is it now?” Wade groaned.

“What if you used, um, leverage this time? L-like you make them let you join?”

Wade rolled his head to the side, humming, knife scraping against the frayed rope. “What leverage?”

“You said they want this Wolverine guy back, right?” The man said, eyes darting nervously to the knife. “You could use that. Tell them you’re a package deal, huh? They don’t get him unless they take you? They let you in or you both walk.”

“Interesting. . .”

“Yeah, and you don’t even have to tell him!” the man continued, bolstered by Wade’s continued attention. “Just go to these guys and make the deal happen, then you both can join and he doesn’t have to know you’re working them over.”

“Morally flexible and potentially effective,” Wade said, sitting up fully. “It just might work. Wolvie can’t ditch me for the X-men if I am an X-Men. Man. Whatever! He’ll be stuck with me! And those super troopers probably want him back bad enough to allow even my crazy ass in.”

“Right!” the man said, nodding furiously, fingers twisting against each other. “So, uh, you’re going to let me down now? Since I helped?”

“Huh?” Wade said, bringing himself back to the moment at hand and the guy he had hanging off the edge of the building. Right.

“See, now I’m really torn because on one hand, that was some really good advice,” Wade hummed, tapping the tip of baby knife against his chin. “But on the other hand, you’re a piece of shit drug dealer who sells to high schoolers.”

“I’ll stop, I swear! Cold turkey, right now, you’ll never hear about me ever again!” the man begged, wiggling like a caught fish. “Please!”

“Let’s compromise,” Wade said, spinning the knife around in his hand. “I’m trying really hard not to kill people anymore and I’ve been doing pretty good! So, how does just a pair of broken legs sound? Fair, right?”

“What-”

Wade pulled the knife up, cutting through in one swift move. The man screamed as he dropped, eyes wide with terror. Wade slid baby knife into its holster and spun around, whistling to himself. He bent down, collecting up his garbage - he was a mercenary, not a litterbug - as a loud yelp rang out from behind him.

“Think about your life choices!” Wade called over his shoulder. “And thanks for the advice!”

***

And you know, Wade could have easily ignored both of those pieces of advice. He’d been very tempted, in fact, considering they both contradicted each other and it was always easier to bury your head in the sand than actually deal with your problems.

Given his track record, he most likely would have just continued on, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his gut and the worry eating at the back of his brain like a little snack. He would have. . . if not for Scott Fucking Summers.

Scott was following him. Okay, well, maybe not actually following him, but it sure felt that way! How Wade had gone from literally never seeing a single X-Men besides the D-Grade extras to seeing Cyclops wherever he went was a mystery (most likely explained by the increase in budget and the Disney buyout, but whatever). Wade couldn’t go five fucking feet without running into the prick, conveniently only when Logan wasn’t around.

At this point, he’d seen Scott at the grocery store, waiting in line outside Wade’s favorite food truck, on the one bus Wade ever took whenever Dopinder was busy and couldn’t drive him places, walking past the laundromat when it was Wade’s turn to wash the clothes, and several other times. 

Wade suspected it was just the universe throwing its two cents into the whole situation because at most of these encounters Scott didn’t even notice Wade was there, which ruled out it being on purpose. Only two times had Scott even acknowledged he was aware of Wade’s presence. At the grocery store, he and Scott had locked eyes over a stack of a discounted pallet of cereal, but besides a glare, Scott had said nothing to him. Outside the laundromat, he’d given Wade a frown and a disappointed shake of his head, and then left without so much as a word.

Which was honestly so much worse than if he’d simply yelled at Wade, or tried to corner him again, or even showed back up at the apartment. He was just a constant, persistent, stupid-glasses-wearing reminder of everything Wade was trying very hard not to think about.

And then there was Jean . 

As fucked up as it was, Wade had secretly hoped the cinematic universe he called home would be one where Jean Goddamn Motherfucking Gray had managed to get herself blown up or similarly written out of the plot.

Now don’t get him wrong, Wade was a big fan of powerful women. Give him a girl boss any day of the week and he would be absolutely thrilled, front row seats to the movie, extra-large popcorn, cheering her on. 

Unless that particular girlboss had an intense romantic history with the man he was currently in a situationship with.

If just seeing Scott was enough to stoke the flames of his jealousy - he’d seen universes where he and Logan weren’t just coworkers, wink wink - bumping into Jean Contrived Romantic Side Plot Gray was like throwing a bus sized mentos into a diet Coke volcano. 

He’d eaten expired gas station tacos that made his stomach churn less than the sight of Jean Gray flipping through t-shirts at the small vintage store Wade liked to frequent a few blocks away from his apartment. 

Given Logan’s lack of patience (and his sharp, pointy claws that liked to make an appearance when he was really horny), Wade had quickly gone through a good chunk of his wardrobe. Wade liked wearing shirts with silly sayings or band tees from musicians he’d never listened to or souvenirs from places he’d never been. It was all about the feeling and things he didn’t know, and might never know, always had a better feeling than those he did. 

Wade barely put one foot in the store, eagerly drinking in the scent of old clothes and distant burning incense, when he spotted her examining a faded pink beach shirt. He stopped dead in his tracks, the door slamming into his ass hard and the bell up above rattling with enough noise to wake the dead. 

She glanced up and caught his stare, intense green eyes like a burning beacon of gamma radiation straight to his low self-esteem, making it grow ten times its normal size. “Wade,” she said pleasantly, giving him a small smile. “What a nice surprise. It has been a while.”

“Yeah,” Wade replied, the word sticking like toffee to the roof of his mouth. It was moments like these he really wished he actually had a secret identity and didn’t have the bad habit of adding any superheroes he met on his personal snapchat. “I’ll be honest, Jean, I didn’t take you for the vintage tee type.”

“Oh, it’s not for me,” Jean said, laying the pink shirt over her arm. “Kurt’s birthday is coming up soon and apparently he got into Jubilee’s record collection. Between the two of them I’ve heard more about sixties rock bands than I ever thought was possible.”

Wade joined her at the rack, flipping through the shirts without really looking at them, desperately trying to come across like her presence wasn’t bothering the absolute shit out of him.

When Wade didn’t respond, Jean continued. “I’ve heard some wild rumors from Scott,” she said, shooting Wade a quick glance out the corner of her eye.

“Yeah?” Wade said, like he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“About you. And this other Logan you found.”

Wade yanked a shirt off the rack, holding it in front of his face to block Jean’s face from view. It was an ugly color, a sort of off-yellow tie dye camp t-shirt from 1978. He could just make out the year in faded letters circling around the overwashed image of a pine tree. 

“Your boy toy is real nosy,” Wade said, biting back the words he really wanted to say.

“Wade,” Jean said gently, red painted finger nails cresting over the top of the shirt. She tugged it down, exposing her gentle, searching gaze. “Is Logan doing okay?”

God fucking shit, it was unfair how pretty she was - even if Wade hated her guts, he could admit he understood why men tripped over themselves to get her attention. She was incredibly intelligent, powerful, and stunning to look at in the way it hurt your eyes to look directly at the sun. 

Wade usually felt he looked like a wadded up piece of chewing gum stuck to the side of an abandoned bus stop, but in front of Jean, he suddenly felt even that description might be giving him a little too much credit. 

She didn’t even have a single fucking zit for Christ’s sake, while Wade’s skin was a topographical map of Canda someone dropped into a puddle. The sudden wave of disgust he felt for himself was a tangible thing, digging claws into his brain and dragging him down.

Wade plasted a completely unconvincing smile on his face, showing too many teeth and not enough serenity for it to seem at all genuine. “He’s doing fine. Great, in fact! I read some articles on how to help a cat adjust to a new home and honestly the tips have been really effective!”

Jean laughed, and fuck, even her laugh was nice. Wade’s fingers twitched at his side, fighting the urge to grab one of his hidden guns and just put himself out of this misery - not that it would last very long.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Jean said, taking her hand back. “I did want to apologize for Scott’s behavior the other day. I know his methods can be a bit. . . intense, sometimes. But it is only because he’s really worried about Logan. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Keep him out of a five-mile radius from my apartment and we’ll call it square,” Wade said, tossing the shirt haphazardly back onto the rack. He pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Dopinder with his location and several emergency alert icons. He pocketed the phone and crossed his arms over his chest, foot tapping anxiously on the floor. 

“I think it might be good if we had a chance to all meet? I’m sure a lot of Scott’s anxiousness just comes from not knowing about Logan. Plus, you and I have never really gotten the chance to properly talk. What if we all went out to dinner sometime? All four of us? I think it would be a great opportunity to all get to know each other. Especially if Logan plans on rejoining the X-Men.”

Wade pictured it, him and Logan, out to dinner at some fancy scmancy dinner place with Scott and Jean - three of the most attractive people Wade had ever seen sitting next to a sentient molding avocado on a pseudo double date. Scott whose jawline was sharp enough to cut the overpriced steaks right in half; Jean with her cherry lips and flaming red hair; Logan with his expressive hazel eyes and bulging muscles - Wade would be lucky if they bothered to pay the bill before ditching him to have the world’s hottest threesome.

“I’d have to bring it up with Logan,” Wade said, knowing he couldn’t shoot down the idea outright without coming across as rude. The last thing he needed was Jean crying to Logan about how mean Wade was and hastening how quickly Logan ditched him. “But who knows, maybe he'll feel sociable all of the sudden.”

“Great,” Jean said, pulling out her phone. She held it out to Wade. “Put your number in and I'll text you. I'll make sure Scott is okay with it, too, and then we can plan something.”

As much as Wade wanted to put in a fake number (or even just the number to the local pizza place Logan and him frequented, he could only imagine the look on Jean's face when she tried to call), he ultimately typed in his actual number and passed the phone back. 

He'd decided, rather quickly, what his strategy would be - keep your enemies close. Wade was already at an extreme disadvantage, so there was no need for him to play completely fair. 

“Perfect,” Jean said, typing out a quick message. Wade's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, unlocking the screen to reveal a stealthy selfie he'd taken of him and Logan when Logan had fallen asleep on the couch with Wade tucked against his side - just past Wade's dopey grin was Logan's sleeping face pressed against the back of Wade's neck, soft and relaxed. Wade smiled despite the jealousy still thrumming in his blood and tapped on the text notification at the top of the screen. 

This is Jean! :)

Wade swiped away the text, only for another one to pop up immediately after.

Doppin Dots: i am outside mr pool!!!

“Oh, and I wanted to ask,” Jean started, a curious glint in her eye. “You and Logan-”

“Oops, sorry to cut you off, Blue Jeans, but my ride just texted me,” Wade said, spinning on his heel and heading towards the door at a pace too quick to be casual. “We'll be in touch! My people will talk to your people or whatever the saying is. Buh-bye!”

Wade practically scrambled out of the store, sending the bell overhead into a frenzied ringing. Dopinder was pulled up onto the curb just outside, ignoring the angry glares from the pedestrians who had to walk around his car to get by. When he spotted Wade, he rolled down the window and leaned towards the passenger side.

“DP! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Dopinder, I'm good,” Wade said, yanking the back door of the cab open and crawling inside. He used his foot to pull the door closed behind him. Wade laid out across the back, turning his face into the seats and breathing in the familiar smell of Dopinder's lavender air freshener. 

“Where to, sir?”

“Just. . .drive around for a bit, buddy, okay? I just need to think.”

***

And over the course of his life, Wade had learned to not ignore coincidences - most things that happened were on purpose, whether by movie director design or a tug on the string of fate. 

So Wade finally caved to the signs, to the advice, to the annoying voices in his head, and now he was here, standing in front of the school with no fucking clue what he was going to say. The sting of rejection was a wound Wade always felt, like a cut in the back of his throat. Nobody had dealt a harsher blow than the Avengers turning him down, but the X-Men was a pretty close second. 

The Avengers had always been a long shot, even if it seemed completely fucking stupid to reject a guy who literally couldn’t die from their team of superheros who had a pretty bad habit of dying. They were the peak, the ultimate team, the people all baby superheroes were told stories about at bedtime. 

The X-Men, as Logan so gracefully put it during their argument in the car, would take anyone. They scraped the bottom of the barrel, flipped the barrel over, and then scraped there, too, looking for whoever they could take in.

Anyone but Wade.

Wade sighed, resheathing baby knife and putting his hands on his hips. He couldn’t just stand outside forever, especially with several mind readers inside who probably already knew how much of a little bitch he was being.

He needed to do this. If Logan was going to rejoin the X-Men, and it was becoming pretty obvious to Wade this was going to happen one way or another, then it needed to happen his way. Not Jean’s, or Scott’s, or anyone else’s. 

“Maximum effort. . .” he whispered under his breath.

Wade moved forward, jumping and grabbing onto the gate about halfway up. He quickly shimmed the rest of the way and threw himself over the top, landing with an oomp on the other side. He groaned lowly, flicking out his broken wrist to snap it back into place. Not the most elegant entrance, but effective enough.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and looked forward, catching the stare of a small group of students paused mid-soccer game. “Good morrow, students!” Wade said in an old timey accent, using his knees to push himself fully upright. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here for a campus tour. Got a big ol’ scholarship and lots of government money to burn. Do you all happen to know if this place accepts transfer credits from the University of Toronto?”

The group stared at him with a cautious curiosity, no doubt already aware of who he was. Wade wouldn’t be surprised if good ol’ Chuck had printed out little pamphlets with a picture of Deadpool on the front to give to the newbies as a warning. 

After a moment’s hesitation, a woman stepped forward who looked to be in her late twenties, maybe early thirties with cropped brown hair and a worn looking wedding ring on her hand. “What are you looking for?” she asked nicely, but carefully, eyes darting to the guns strapped to Wade’s hips and the kantanas on his back. 

“A way to make sure Logan doesn’t break up with me,” Wade said, gesturing flippantly. As the words registered in his mind, he froze, hand stuck mid dismissal. “Whaaaaaa - wait! Now hold the fuck on, what the hell was that?”

He’d meant to say a quippy one-liner about ‘baldmenseekingbaldmen.com’ (a well-loved classic from his jokes about Charles Xavier arsenal) but the truth had stumbled out of his mouth instead like a drunk being kicked face first out of a bar. 

“Sorry,” the woman said with a shrug. Behind her, the rest of the group had fallen into hushed, quick whispers. No doubt by lunchtime everyone would know Wade and Logan were together. Great. “My power. I subconsciously compel people to tell the truth. You must be Wade Wilson, right?”

Wade wagged his finger. “One, I’ve got the full cosplay on and everything, so let’s stick to made up superhero names, kay, bestie? And two,” Wade said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Your super power is super rad and super useful, next time I come here with Logan I need you glued to my side, got it? I'm going to make him spill all his beans.”

“Sure,” the woman said with a shrug and a knowing smile. “But don't come crying to me if you don't like what you hear. Everyone wants the truth until they get it.”

“Yeah, yeah, save the life lessons for the other students, I barely passed high school so that kind of knowledge is totally wasted on me. Besides that other thing I said earlier which I will not be repeating, I am actually looking for the big man himself, Charles Entertainment Cheese. You know where I can find him?”

“The professor is teaching a class right now, you're probably better off just waiting in his office.”

“Nah, I'll just go find him,” Wade said, walking towards the school. He waved goodbye over his shoulder, already scanning the windows of the school to see if he could spot the shining beacon of Charles’ head. “I appreciate the help! Remember to floss or whatever it is this school teaches you guys how to do!”

With no luck spotting Charles from the outside, Wade sighed and resigned himself to having to go in and look the old fashioned way. He jogged up the front steps and kicked at the door, fully expecting it to fly open dramatically just in time for his Emperor's New Groove reference. 

Instead, his foot collided with the hard wood with a loud, unsettling crack. Wade shouted, falling to the ground and cradling his injured leg to his chest. “Boom, baby. . .” he muttered under his breath, biting back tears as his leg throbbed with pain.

The door opened a moment later, pushing outward. Holding the door was Negasonic Teenage Warhead, typical annoyed frown firmly in place. “It opens outward, you fucking moron.”

“I forgot. . .” Wade whimpered, looking up at Negasonic with drooping lenses. 

“Clearly. Can you stop the dramatics and get the hell up?”

Wade rubbed his hand up and down his leg for effect (it was already healed) and then got to his feet. “Good to see you're as mean as ever. I was worried being around such a good person like Yukio might rub off on you.”

At her name, Yukio appeared over Negasonic's shoulder, giving Wade a little wave. “Hi, Wade!”

“Hi, Yukio!” Wade waved back, giving Yukio a wide grin underneath his mask. The smile fell when he looked back at Negasonic. “You and I have beef, you know, Negasonic Betrayal Traitorhead.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You doxxed me! To Scott fucking Summers!”

Negasonic scoffed. “Really? That’s what you’re mad about?”

“Yes! How could you tell that jackoff where I live? I thought I could trust you!”

“Wade,” Yukio piped up from behind. “I don’t think Ellie realized it would be a problem to tell Scott where you lived. You tell almost everyone, all of the time.”

It really was impossible to stay mad under Yukio’s patient, understanding stare, but Wade made a valiant effort anyway. “I do not!”

“You literally used it as an answer the last time we played Jackbox,” Negasonic said. “Street name, apartment number, and everything. On the TV for everyone to see.”

“Yeah! Well, that’s different! I trust you guys!” Wade said with  huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys are cool! He’s not!”

“Well how the fuck am I supposed to know you didn’t want me to tell him?”

“Well!” Wade sputtered out, realizing very quickly his anger held no actual weight. “You’re mean to everyone! I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about you blabbing all my secrets just because someone asked! You usually ignore people!”

“Wade, he’s like my teammate. Boss? Whatever,” Negasonic said with a dismissive gesture. “Sure usually I would just tell someone to fuck off, but unlike you, I can actually be a team player. I didn’t think it mattered.”

Yukio leaned forward and whispered in Negasonic’s ear. Negasonic groaned, rolling her eyes. “Fine,” she said, leveling Wade with look intense enough to flay a man alive. “I’m. . . sorry that I told Scott where you lived. My bad. Won’t happen again.”

“Apology accepted,” Wade said, moving forward with arms outstretched for a hug. The murderous intent in Negasonic’s eyes grew, verging on homicidal. Wade dropped his arms, placing them on his hips instead. “It gave me a chance to tear him a new asshole anyway, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

“Great,” Negasonic said with a fake smile that showed too much teeth. “Now move out of the fucking way, Yukio and I are busy.”

“We’re going on a picnic,” Yukio said, holding up a ribbon-threaded picnic basket behind Negasonic’s head.

“And you’re not invited,” Negasonic tacked on just as Wade was opening his mouth. 

“Boo,” Wade said, blowing a raspberry. “Your loss, I make a mean cucumber sandwich. 

“You’ll have to make them for me sometime,” Yukio said, following Negasonic as she started down the steps, pushing past Wade.

“Absolutely! Oh, real quick, before you guys go. Do you know where I can find Professor Clean?”

“I think the professor is giving a lecture right now,” Yukio said, pausing at the bottom of the steps while Negasonic rolled her eyes. “Not sure which classroom.”

“Thanks, like always, you are the best! See you later, Yukio!”

“See you later, Wade!” Yukio gave him a wave and then caught up to Negasonic, looping their arms together as they walked across the grass. 

Ugh they were just so cute! And healthy! And communicative! Wade was pretty sure if he tried to do something like that to Logan, he’d probably hobble away with one less arm - but it would be worth the five seconds of bliss before the inevitable maiming.

Wade took only a second to mourn how complicated his fucky ass relationship was before shaking himself out in a full body shiver and heading towards the door. He pulled open the door (fool him once, shame on him) and stepped inside.

Immediately the school was more alive than Wade had ever seen it, with students bustling to and from whatever it was they did for day to day activities in a school for weirdos. Wade ducked as one of them flew over his head and down the hall, backpack dangling precariously from her hand. 

“Hey, this is a no fly zone!” he shouted after her, which earned him a handful of giggles from the students standing close enough to hear. “Holy shit, Disney really wasn’t playing with the budget, huh?” Wade muttered under his breath, looking around at all the named and unnamed X-Men he could see scattered around just the entry hall. “This is what an extra 90 million dollars does for your little corner of the cinematic universe.”

Wade considered asking one of the students where Charles was hiding, but ultimately decided poking around would be a lot more fun. Plus, quite a few of the baby mutants were shooting him not-so-discreet looks of terror so they might not be very helpful anyway. 

After a bit of debate, Wade swung down the right hallway, artfully dodging past students while humming the ‘Spy Kids’ theme song under his breath. For the most part, his antics were ignored as the students rushed to and fro - only one girl had the nerve to stop in her tracks to watch him scoot along the wall like he was in a Mission Impossible movie (ah, if only he could be half as handsome as Tom Cruise, especially from 1994.)

He put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion as his hip bumped into a doorway. He felt around blindly for a doorknob and opened the door, slipping inside with a wink. He closed the door quickly behind him, feeling hopped up on the fantasy anxiety of getting caught. 

“Deadpool?”

Wade snapped his head around to look at the room he’d just snuck into, taking in the numerous rows of long desks, each with a beaker set placed every few feet. At the front of the room was a large table covered in stacks of paper, test tubes, and textbooks all neatly arranged. Behind said desk sat Wade’s second favorite blue X-Man: Dr. Hank McCoy.

“Beast!” Wade thrilled, pushing himself off the door and skipping over to the desk. “Wow, they even shelled out enough money for you to be here, I’m impressed!”

“I will take that as a compliment, I think,” Beast said, pushing his glasses up on his fuzzy blue face without looking up from the papers in front of him. “What are you doing here, Deadpool? And why-”

Beast trailed off, tilting his head up. He sniffed loudly, then did it again, and turned a surprised face towards Wade. 

“Oh, sorry to your sensitive little blue nose, Hanky Panky, I doused myself in Frosted Winter Woods before I left the house today. Bath and Body Works discontinued it a while ago but I bought forty-seven bottles so they couldn’t actually take it from me.” Wade reached out, snagging one of the weird looking science beakers on the desk and holding it up to his eye to peer at Beast through the warped glass. “If you want some, let me know. I got a guy who gets me the hook up.”

“I didn’t know you and Logan were together.”

Wade almost dropped the beaker as it slipped out of his fingers. He football dived forward and caught it with two hands, saving the glass but sending papers scattering everywhere.

“ What?

“You and Logan. . .” Beast continued slowly, turning a critical eye towards the mess Wade just made. “I’m certainly surprised, I wouldn’t have suspected he had that much patience.”

“How in ever loving hell do you know about that?” Wade said, slumping his body across the desk. “There is no way those newbies outside already told everyone! Unless Charles projected it over the loudspeaker with his stupid bald head powers.”

“While no doubt the rumor will eventually spread if you told one of the students, that is not how I know,” Beast said, pushing Wade’s limp form slightly to the side so he could start gathering papers. “I’m afraid it is rather obvious if you have a nose as sensitive as mine.”

“What, you’re telling me I smell? Yeah, Wolvie does chain smoke cigars in the apartment, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Beast sighed, shuffling the papers into a neat pile. “It’s not that. How do I put this kindly?” Beast hummed. “I suppose there isn’t a way. To put it plainly, you reek of Logan. In a way that suggests you two are. . . intimately familiar.”

“Wait, you’re saying I smell like sex with Wolverine?”

“I am regretting this conversation very quickly.”

“No, no, hold on,” Wade said, crawling all the way onto the desk so he could lean closer to Beast’s big ol’ blue face. “Back up, Huggy Wuggy, you gotta explain that one more.”

“There is nothing to explain,” Beast said, leaning away from Wade with a crinkled nose. “Just consider it a warning. Not even Frosted Winter Woods can disguise the scent to anyone with enhanced smelling.” 

“Whoa.” Wade dropped his body flat, head spinning with the implications of everything Beasts just said. He’d known about the scent marking thing, of course, in fact he’d been all too thrilled about it - any excuse to have Logan all up against him, purring and happy. But he’d never really thought about what that might mean outside the isolated little bubble of their apartment. The implication that Logan did it because he wanted people to know he and Wade were together. . .

“Now, is there anything I can help you with, Deadpool? I assume there is a reason you are here. I have a class arriving soon and I need to prepare.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wade shook his head harshly, sending that train of thought down a detoured track to spank bank station. Definitely didn’t want that at the forefront of his mind right before meeting with a telepath. “I’m looking for Professor X-cellent if you don’t mind telling me where he’s hiding. We have a meeting.”

“I highly doubt that,” Beast said with a knowing glance over the top of his glasses. “If you are looking for the professor, he is currently giving a lecture in room twelve down the hall. I would suggest you wait in his office, but since I know you will ignore that suggestion, please try not to be too disruptive.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior, don’t you worry your fuzzy little blue head.” Wade slid off the desk with an extended squeaking noise and dropped to the floor. He jumped up to his feet, spun on his heel, and walked toward the exit. “Thank you for your help, Beastie Boy, unless Disney splurges on Nightcrawler you might actually claim the spot as my favorite blue guy in the school.”

“What an honor.”

Wade gave Beast a quick salute and then left the room. To his right, a line of students had formed outside of the classroom, no doubt waiting for Beast to call them in.

“The answer to number three is A,” Wade stage whispered to the nearest student, cupping a hand next to his mouth. “Good luck!”

Wade left behind the students’ confused mummering to skip down the hall, counting down the room numbers in his head until he reached twelve. He pressed his ear up against the door and heard the muffled sound of Charles’ voice through the wood. Bingo.

Wade cracked the door open and peered inside, one white lens narrowing as he scanned the room. Charles was at the front, moving his chair back and forth like he was pacing while he lectured. The room was sort of auditorium style, with raised rows of seats filled with scattered pockets of students. Wade had never been to college, but he imagined this was probably fairly similar.

“A common mistake many mutants make is never understanding the full extent of their powers,” Charles said, spinning his chair to face the door. He caught Wade’s eyes and smiled - the one smile he always did, full of so much understanding and patience that made you feel important and special and made Wade want to start punching himself in the head until he became refamiliarized with the sting of rejection. “Most discover their powers, take them at their most basic form, and never try to see if they can exceed beyond the initial limitation.”

Wade slid inside and leaned against the door, crossing one leg over the other and his arms across his chest. He could feel the students attention turn towards him but he kept his gaze resolutely locked on Charles shiny bald head.

“For myself, I realized early on that my powers allowed me to access the minds of other people,” Charles continued, looking back at the class. “Initially, I thought this only meant I was a mind reader - an impressive power, certainly, but not very flashy. It was only later, as I kept pushing at my limits, I discovered the full extent of my abilities: mind reading, mind control, astral projection. Had I let myself be content with where I started, I never would have found what else I was capable of.”

“Sometimes you can even use telekinesis,” Wade piped up. “But it honestly depends on the comic book run. If you ask me, I think it makes you a little too overpowered.” 

“Deadpool,” Charles said, gesturing to a spot beside him. “Would you like to tell the class about your own experience?”

“Oh, Charles, you know I love to be the center of attention,” Wade said, clasping his hands together near his head and blinking his lenses in a flirty manner. Wade moved over to where Charles was sitting, disney princess waving at the staring students as he went. “What do you want to know about little ‘ol me?”

“Class, this is Deadpool,” Charles said. “I’m sure many of you are at least passingly familiar with him. Deadpool, can you explain to the students how you discovered the extent of your powers?”

“Sure, Professor X-Treme, you see, it all happened long ago when I was a little baby Deadpool in my late 20s/early 30s - depending on which author you ask. I got diagnosed with crazy bad cancer and went through some funky experiments to try to get better. Turns out, these experiments didn’t cure my cancer, they just gave me super cancer, which in nerd terms means my body is constantly regenerating all my cells. Anyone want to take a guess at what my power is?”

A few students glanced at each other cautiously, like they were unsure whether it was safe to ask a question. Wade placed his hands on his hips, trying to appear as approachable as possible. He needed to get on Charles’ good side, afterall, before their little chit chat. 

A girl in the second row hesitantly raised her hand. Wade pointed at her with a dramatic flourish. “Yes, you. What’s the answer?’

“You have. . . super healing?”

“Super, super healing, actually. But so close! Basically, I can heal from literally any injury completely. Broken legs, shattered spine, poison, bullet to the neck - nothing sticks!”

“So you can heal from anything ?” a boy spoke up from the back of the room, disbelief clear in his tone.

“ Anything. Do you wanna do a little show and tell?” Wade said, reaching down towards where baby knife was strapped to his calf. 

“I don’t think that will be necessary -” Charles began, but Wade was already pulling the blade out and raising it up to shoulder height. 

“Whoops! Hand slipped!” Wade yelled, just as he brought the blade down firmly into his stomach. The knife stung as it cut through his skin, a familiar pain he was all too accustomed to feeling. At this point, getting stabbed was almost like getting a papercut, just with way more bleeding. Maybe he had a few wires crossed, but he almost kind of even liked the feeling - his mind wandered unbidden to the sensation of Logan’s claws sinking into his arm, pinning him to the seats of the car so he couldn’t squirm away, stuck like a taxidermy butterfly to a canvas while Logan had his wicked way. . .

A hand on his arm brought him back to reality and the horrified stares of a dozen students. Wade looked to the side to see Charles’ looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. Mind reader. Right.

Wade pulled the knife out of his stomach, wiped the blood off on his suit, twirled it between his fingers for dramatic effect, and then resheathed it. “See?” he said, pointing to the exposed strip of skin which had already healed over. “All better!”

“Thank you for the demonstration,” Charles said with a weary sigh. “Now, class, let us connect Deadpool’s experience with his powers back to today’s lesson. Deadpool,” Charles continued, in the way a teacher would say the name of a particularly misbehaving student. Did Xaiver’s school have some kind of detention? If it did, Wade had a feeling he’d be the first to find out. “Can you tell us how you learned more about the extent of your powers? Beyond just the initial healing factor?”

“Well you know, at first I thought it was just your run of the mill healing factor. Maybe slightly better than Spiderman’s, not quite Wolverine, but definitely better than Superman’s. Then I took a couple more shots to the head, exploded into a couple different pieces, drowned, got poisoned, drowned again, and well after a while I was like ‘huh, you know, I probably should have died like seven times by now and yet I’m still kicking. Sooooooooo, a couple of existential crises later I figured out I’m immortal! The cancer that was going to kill me is now the very thing keeping me alive forever. How poetic and shit. I mean shiz. I mean, how old are you guys? Can I say shit? You have to be at least like teens if -”

Wade stopped mid sentence as a hand slowly raised into the air. It was the same girl who asked the previous question, staring at Wade with a wide gaze. 

“Yes?”

“Mr. Deadpool, are you -”

“Ah, ah, Mr. Deadpool was my father. Please, just call me Dead.”

“Sorry, Mister, um, Dead, are you. . . saying you can’t die? At all?”

“Yep! One hundred percent immortal, believe me, I’ve tried.” Wade felt Charles disapproving look against the side of his face even without turning to look. “Just kidding about the trying thing! But yeah, nothing can keep me down for very long - except eating an entire tub of ice cream in one sitting, that’ll take me out for a while and it is NOT pretty.” 

“What happens when you, like, explode?” a different student said from the back of the room, earning a wave of agreeing mummers from the other students. “Are you like. . .in a void or something?”

“You know that movie All Dogs Go to Heaven?” Wade said, looking over the sea of young faces who had definitely not seen the movie. “It’s basically like that, almost exactly.”

“But how do you -”

“Let’s refocus the conversation,” Charles said, holding up a hand, and the entire class fell silent almost immediately. “Discovering immortality from a healing factor is certainly impressive and no doubt took some time to realize. On a smaller scale, are there any other things you discovered upon learning more about your powers?”

“Uh, sure,” Wade said, scratching the side of his mask. “Instant healing means I can’t tear or really injure my muscles, so I can run faster, I’m way stronger, super agile. And, hmmmm, I can eat like a ton of food really fast because my body is always regrowing - they banned me from the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest, I think because Joey Chestnut was getting jealous. He doesn’t have a healing factor, he’s just a freak. And contrary to popular belief, I can also think really fast because my brain cells regenerate, too! Which also leads to me having super ADHD, basically. Although-”

“Yes, great, those are some perfect examples,” Charles said, turning toward the chalk board behind him. He lifted up a marker and began drawing two big circles, one with ‘super healing’ in the middle, and the other with ‘mind reading’. He added several lines branching out from the circles, connecting to other words. “From mind reading we discover astral projection, mind control, increased memory. From a strong healing factor, we discover enhanced strength, speed, mental processes, and metabolism.”

Charles put the chalk down and faced the class once more, eyes roving over each student. “You all are at the beginning of your journey. Before next class, I want you to think about ways to broaden your perception of your powers. Tell me, what else do you think you can do?” Charles let the words hover in the air for a moment, then nodded. “Class dismissed. I will see you all tomorrow.” 

Wade leaned against the back of Charles’ chair as the students collected their belongings and filed out one by one. A few of them shot Wade curious looks as they passed by, but none stopped to ask any questions, and soon he and Charles were left alone. 

“Man, if I was learning about super powers in school I might have actually paid attention,” Wade said, pushing off Charles’ chair and spinning around. He walked towards the nearest row of tables, taking a seat and kicking his feet up onto the desk while leaning back in the chair. “Instead I barely passed the 12th grade. If I hadn’t been able to pick locks, I wouldn’t have passed any of those stupid tests.”

“Deadpool, as much of a pleasure as it is to see you, I assume you have a reason for coming here?”

“What, you’re not going to just read my mind?” Wade said, jiggling his foot up and down. “And what's with the full names? I know you know my not so secret identity.”

“If I simply read your mind, there would be no need for conversation. And I do very much enjoy our conversations,” Charles said, coming to a stop in Wade's line of sight. “When a mutant is wearing their costume, it is usually for a reason. I like to respect that decision.”

“Yeah, well, I figured wearing a little spandex might help my case,” Wade mumbled, fingering the new cut in his suit. If only his costume could get a healing factor, too.

“Which is?”

“I know you’ve said no like six or seven times, but eighth times the charm, I think. I want to join your little band of merry men.”

“Deadpool-”

“ Before you say anything!” Wade swung his legs down and leaned forward, pressing his chest into the top of the desk. “This is different from all the other times! For one, I’ve been actually trying! Really hard! I haven’t killed anyone in like, a month! And my maimings are down 46% from last quarter.”

“Yes, I have seen -”

“ And, ” Wade scooted forward a bit further, feet pressing against the chair as his body slid across the desk. “I have something you want.”

“Oh?” Charles said, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Do share.”

“I,” Wade started, then paused for dramatic effect, “have Logan.”

“I am aware you two are close. Are you implying you would bring him with you if I were to allow you to join?”

“Yes! Gosh, I always knew you were one smart cookie. If you let me join the X-Men, then I can convince Logan to join the X-Men. It’s a win-win situation, really. You get your favorite poster child back, and I get my X-Men branded crop top back. I still can’t believe I had to give that back just because I didn’t actually join.”

“I would hesitate to put Logan in a position where he felt forced to rejoin us,” Charles said. “As much as I would warmly welcome Logan into this school, I would hope it would be his decision to do so.”

“Well-”

“I have seen into this Logan’s mind,” Charles said, voice taking on a firmer edge. “Just the surface, I did not want to pry. He has faced horrors I could only imagine, losses so painful it would bring any man to his knees. As much as I desire to help him, it has to be because he wants the help.”

Wade hadn’t really asked Logan too much about his old timeline. It seemed like it was probably a sore subject, and Wade was very much into the idea of keeping Logan as happy as possible. He’d suspected it was bad, given what little information he’d been able to find out. But to hear how bad, well, that certainly took a little pep out of his step. 

“Listen, Chuck,” Wade said, dragging himself off the desk to stand back up. He walked a few steps down and then sat so he was eye level with Charles, staring into those piercing baby blues. “I went through fucking Hell to get Logan here. I literally almost got ripped into tiny fucking atomic pieces trying to save this timeline while you and your posse of do-gooders waited around for that Disney check to clear. I jumped from timeline to timeline, died in a dozen different ways, went on a fucking buddy cop road trip , to save the world. I did it all without even being asked! And sure, maybe my reasons were selfish at first, but towards the end I realized this was about more than just me.” Wade paused, clamping a hand down on his knee to stop his jittering leg. “I got my happy ending. My friends, my timeline, hell I even got the fucking dog. But Logan. . . well, he just got me.”

Charles didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch between them. Wade dropped his eyes down to the stairs so he didn’t have to look at the other man.

“I know this Logan better than anyone. He can be in denial, but I know he wants this. He wants you guys,” Wade tacked on, hoping the words didn’t sound as bitter as they tasted in his throat. “Me convincing him? Well, honestly, that would just look like me not shit talking you guys for five seconds and telling him I think it would be a good idea for him to come here. I can’t promise he’ll come, but if he’s going to listen to anyone, it’s going to be me. As absolutely insane as that sounds.”

Charles sighed, bringing a hand up to drag along the lower half of his face. “Very well. I agree with you, I suspect Logan is more receptive to the idea of coming back to the school than even you realize. I sensed a deep loneliness inside of him and I believe being around the other X-Men would be good for his integration into this timeline.”

Wade dug his fingers into his knees, glad for the mask keeping his expression neutral as white hot jealousy licked up the walls of his stomach. Whether Charles meant it or not, the implication that Wade wasn’t enough for Logan to be happy wasn’t lost. “Guess we both just want what is best for Wolvie,” Wade said, a little too sugary sweet to come across as completely genuine but honestly he had already given a Oscar-Worthy enough performance just by being civil with Charles fucking Xaiver - if he dropped the bag a little towards the end, sue him. “So what’ll it be, X-Files? Logan and I are a package deal.”

“I have noticed your progress recently; your efforts have not been in vain. If you continue on this path, stick to a no kill rule, practice your teamwork skills, and convince Logan to give the school another chance, I will allow a chance to rejoin our ranks.”

“Hell yeah, Professor Xtra, let’s fucking g-”

“With one stipulation.” 

Wade dropped the hand he had been raising up for a high five, letting  out an annoyed sigh. “What is it now?”

“I will allow both you and Logan to come to the school. . .as trainees. You will both participate in at least three months of classes, power practice, team building exercises, and exams.”

“WHAT-”

“This is non-negotiable.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Wade spluttered, getting to his feet and waving his arms wildly by his sides. “ Trainees? You do realize Logan’s literally already been an X-Man and we have both been doing this superhero thing for like years. We don’t need training!”

“I have no idea what kind of training Logan experienced with his own X-Men. Not only that, as I’m sure you have been made aware, this Logan is quite different from the Logan I am familiar with. Training will allow me and the other X-Men to assess the best way to help Logan navigate these differences for himself and for the team. And you,” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “are extremely out of practice in regards to working with a team. Being trainees will be beneficial for both of you and I am not changing my mind about this. You either convince Logan to return with this stipulation in place, or I will turn you both away.”

“Oh my god, you are so lame!” Wade shouted, smashing his hands against the side of his head. As if he wasn’t already going to have a hard enough time getting Logan on board. “Whatever, fine! I’ll play your stupid little game. You are so lucky I look really good in that X-Man crop top. Which, be tee dubbs, can I have that in advance? For no reason in particular? Definitely not in relation to convincing Logan to join?”

Charles quirked another unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“If you can have non-negotiables, so can I!"

Charles let out another sigh, but turned his chair and started heading towards the door. “I believe there are some extras in the wardrobe room.”

“Yes! No worries, Charlie Boy, I definitely got this in the bag.”

Wade followed after Charles, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and dread. He had no idea if he was going to be able to convince Logan to do anything, but fuck if he wasn’t going to slap on a crop top and trying his absolute fucking hardest .

By the time Wade was done, Logan would have no choice but to say yes.

***

Chapter Text

***

Logan was lying to Wade.

There was really no other way to put it. 

Wade was good for a lot of things : sex, company, a good laugh - one thing he wasn't good for was peace and goddamn quiet.

Logan was used to being alone, but he didn't necessarily miss it. Waking up with Wade pressed against his back, wrapped around Logan like a huge fucking koala was ten times better than jolting awake on a motel room floor covered in booze.

But.

Often, Logan just needed a little bit of alone time. With both him and Wade being basically unemployed, they spent a lot of time together, morning, noon, and night. He woke up with Wade, walked down to the park where all the food trucks parked with Wade, watched TV with Wade, worked out in front of Wade, fell asleep in the same room (and more often than not nowadays in the same bed) as Wade. 

And Wade sucked at peace and quiet. Even on days when Logan could threaten him well enough to figure out the ‘quiet’ part for more than three fucking seconds, the ‘peace’ part was nonexistant. Even with duct tape over his mouth, Wade's energy radiated out of him, infecting the atmosphere of the room. Like the air was full of flammable gas just waiting for a match to be lit.

So yeah, Logan lied sometimes; said he was going on a run or hanging out with Laura or picking up some groceries. Any quick excuse Wade wouldn't really question or ask to come along for - Wade hated running and respected Logan's “bonding time” with Laura too much to interfere.

And instead of doing any of those things, Logan would find the furthest walking distance piece of shit bar he could find in whatever direction. The tinier, crappier, and quieter, the better. 

He liked real shithole places - the kind of spot people wouldn't look at you even once, let alone twice. Where the bartender put a beer in front of you without even asking what you wanted and the decaying jukebox in the corner occasionally groaned out some old rock n’ roll. Where they didn’t care if you smoked inside so long as you put your cigar out in your glass and not on the old wooden bar top.

Somewhere even a face as recognizable as Logan's was just another guy at the bar putting back glasses of whiskey at three in the afternoon.

It wasn't even about the alcohol, not really. If he wanted to get fucked up, he'd go back to St. Margaret’s and order ten of whatever the hell Wade got them last time. 

Nah, it was about the atmosphere. The quiet, uncaring, unchanging stillness of a shitty bar on the corner of a busy street. A bar like that could exist anywhere, in any universe, in any timeline, just the same in each one.

Logan would go for a few hours, just long enough to get a bit of alone time - a dozen or so beers, staring off into space with nothing else on his mind,  and he was good to go for a day and some change of Wade’s company.

Logan didn’t feel bad about the lying. He knew Wade lied to him all the time, mostly about stupid shit like where the last box of Cheerios went (Wade poured it out on their balcony to see how many pigeons he could get to land in one place, the mess was fucking horrific.) But very rarely, Wade lied to him about something important.

Something like Scott.

How the hell Wade thought Logan wouldn’t find out, well, that was a fucking mystery. 

Logan could admit he hadn’t handled the aquarium thing. . .well, to put it lightly. After the chat with Scott and Charles, Logan felt horribly exposed, like all the skin had been ripped from his body and every single one of his nerve endings had hooked themselves up to a car battery. When they’d got back to the apartment, Wade had tried to distract Logan with kisses and the tease of something more, but Logan had pushed him away and beelined for the whiskey he hid underneath the kitchen sink.

And yeah, in the following days the feeling hadn’t really gone away. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to touch Wade - fuck, he always wanted to touch Wade, get him all warm and sweet, fuck him until he couldn’t remember anything but Logan’s name. 

He wanted to, but his brain wouldn’t stop spinning a mile a goddamn second, thinking and thinking and thinking and spiraling and panicking. Thoughts bumping into each other and slamming against the walls of his skull, rattling him to the core.

He was comfortable here, finally. Content with Wade and their living situation and playing the hero just enough to let off some steam. He could even see himself becoming - god fucking forbid - happy for once, given more time away from his old universe and more days spent with his head in Wade’s lap watching bad reality TV.

He wanted to replace all the horrible memories from his past with new ones, memories that didn’t make him want to tie weights around each ankle and toss himself off the docks. 

Red could be for the color of Wade’s suit rather than the shattered remains of Scott’s glasses crunching under Logan’s feet. 

Blue could be the color of the hoodie Laura had gotten him and not the color of the suit Charles was wearing when Logan lowered him into the ground. 

The scent of smoke could be him and Althea puffing cigars on the balcony in a comfortable silence and not the last remains of the mansion clinging to his clothes as he ran away from the blazing inferno.

But it was hard - almost fucking impossible - to shape the past into something new when the past was insistent on trailing behind him like a dog begging for scraps. If it wasn’t the X-Men appearing on the TV when he was trying to watch the news, it was someone at the liquor store in an X-Men shirt, or the team plastered on the front of a newspaper at the bus stop, or Wade coming home smelling like Scott goddamn Summers .

All things which left Logan with an uncomfortable mixture of anger, nostalgia, loss, and crippling want. He missed his X-Men family, and no amount of ignoring the ache or trying to drown his thoughts with alcohol was going to make it go away.

It became very apparent that despite Logan’s wishes, there was no avoiding the inevitable, which left him with two choices: face it head on or wait for it to catch up with him. His terms, or the universe’s, and he was sick of bending to the fucking whims of fate.

So he took back a little bit of power over his life by remembering not to take his bullshit on out on Wade. Cashing in his bet had partially been about having a moment of control, making Wade do whatever Logan said one because it was hot and two because he knew Wade would do it, and he needed in that moment for someone to just fucking listen to him. It had also been to reassure Wade that despite everything else, Logan still wanted him there, in Logan’s life, bracketed between his arms and safe. 

If Logan was going to drag himself forward kicking and screaming, he was taking Wade with him.

Before Logan made any drastic moves, however, he knew he needed more information, and it wasn’t hard to decide where he was going to get it. There was only one particularly obnoxious X-Men who had made tailing both Logan and Wade his new favorite hobby, and Logan suspected that sooner rather than later Scott’s patience was going to run out and he was going to confront one of them again.

All Logan had to do was bide his time.

***

Logan smelled Scott before he saw him. The opening of the bar door let in a shaft of bright sunlight into the otherwise dark bar and with it the sharp scent of Scott’s cologne. Logan didn’t bother to look up. He brought the whiskey glass to his lips and took a long sip, leaning back in his chair. He’d chosen a table rather than his usual seat at the bar for this very reason.

The door remained open for a bit too long, tainting Logan’s quiet hovel with the noise from the outside world, before Scott finally grew a big enough pair to step fully inside. He made a beeline for Logan, judging by the sound of his sharp steps on the warped wooden flooring of the bar. He came into Logan’s line of sight a moment later, dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark brown leather jacket. 

He stood next to the chair across from Logan, swaying forward like he was unsure of what to do. He placed a hand on the back of the chair, fingers clenching tight against the wood. “Logan, I was hoping to find you here. I thought -”

“Sit down,” Logan interrupted, flicking his fingers to the seat.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” Scott said, reluctantly dropping down into the seat. Logan made eye contact with the bartender, nodded his head down at his almost empty drink, held up two fingers, and then turned his attention back to Scott.

“I’m not.”

“So Deadpool -” Logan raised an eyebrow, “- Wade told you I came by.”

“Nope.”

“He lied to you?”

Logan shrugged, throwing back the rest of his whiskey until the ice clinked against his teeth. “He does that.”

“Then how did you -”

“He came back into the apartment smelling like cheap cologne,” Logan said, sliding his glass back on the table. The bartender swung around a moment later, dropping two whiskeys unceremoniously on the table and clearing away the empty one.  Scott reached forward to grab one of the drinks, but Logan quickly pulled them both to his side of the table. Scott’s hand stopped midway across, fingers clenching into a fist.

“It’s not cheap .”

“Unless Xaiver suddenly started paying you guys more, it’s cheap.” Logan tapped a finger against the glass closest to him while watching Scott fume. “And that wasn’t the only time I’ve smelled it on him.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Logan, but -”

“Either you’ve been following him, or you’ve been sleeping with him -”

“-God, no, what? Why would I -” Scott spluttered, going red in the face.

“So fess up to stalking him before I assume the other thing and cut your fucking dick off.”

“I’m not sleeping with Deadpool!” Scott said, loud enough to turn a few heads at the bar their way. Scott winced and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “But clearly you are.”

“It’s none of your fucking business, Summers,” Logan snapped, feeling the Wolverine stomping around his head, baring its teeth. Rationally, yeah, he knew Scott had never even so much as touched Wade - but when Wade had crawled back into bed after answering the door smelling like Scott fucking Summers, rationality had been quickly crushed under an overwhelming wave of jealously.

The pizza was cold by the time Logan was satisfied with making Wade smell like home again.

“Clearly it is if you are going to accuse me of not only cheating on Jean, but cheating on her with Deadpool of all people.”

“Then fess up to the stalking. Quickly.”

“Fine!” Scott caved, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, I've been following him, alright? But I swear that was it, I didn't even talk to him.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, observing Scott's squirming over the rim of his whiskey. “Now why the hell would you do something like that?”

“I just. . .” Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was hoping seeing me all the time might egg Wade on to actually doing something about what we talked about. Getting you back in the X-Men.”

“And stalking him made more sense than just talking to me because. . .?”

“Let’s be honest, Logan. If I had tried, would you have listened?”

“Probably not.” Logan threw back the rest of his drink and dropped it  back on the table, watching a drop of whiskey cling to the inside of the glass. “Why do you want me to join so bad anyway?”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, fucking seriously,” Logan growled, barring his teeth. “Why?”

“Because. . .” Scott paused, looking conflicted. “Because we’re friends, Logan. Friends, superheroes, teammates, whatever you want to call it, the X-Men -”

“We’re not friends ,” Logan said, spitting the word out like chewing tobacco on the floor. “I don’t even fucking know you.”

“Logan, we’ve known each other for -”

“No. No, I knew my Scott Summers for years. My Scott, who I had to bury in an unmarked grave in case the humans wanted to desecrate it. Two sticks in the ground in the middle of the forest.” Logan dug his fingers into the scratched wood of the table, trying to forget the feeling of dirt under his hands, how the warm soil made Scott’s cold skin feel alive just for a second, just long enough to think, maybe, maybe. “Couldn’t even do an X-shape like we always joked about. Too risky. The last time I ever saw his face was when the dirt hit it.”

Logan looked up to see Scott’s mouth twisted in an unreadable expression. Logan reached forward and grabbed his other drink, the chill from the glass refocusing his mind, wrangling it back from the past. “I know you don’t mean anything bad by it,” he continued after a minute. “My Scott never had a bad bone in his whole goddamn body once he joined the X-Men. Found something worth fighting for and never let it go. Even when it got him killed.”

Silence hung between them following Logan’s words, dust from long hidden memories suspended in the air. Logan looked back down. It hurt to stare at Scott for too long, like the after image of an unexpected camera flash lingering in your vision. There was this Scott, then his Scott, blurring around the edges.

“I’m sorry," Scott finally said, voice low. “After you - I mean, our Logan died it was. . .terrible. He was difficult, and abrasive, and God knows we fought more often than we got along but. . .he was my friend. None of us have really moved on from it. I think-” Scott sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. "I think we all half expect him to just walk back in the door. And then, well, he did. Or, you did.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know.” Scott sighed and dragged a hand along his face, slipping underneath his glasses to rub at his closed eyes. “Listen, I’ve been going at this the wrong way. I can’t make you join the X-Men again. But . . I would like you to. I won’t pretend to understand what happened with Deadpool - whatever it is you guys did. What the Professor knows is that you could use some support. I want to offer you that.”

“I have support .”

Scott scoffed. “Deadpool is hardly -”

“ Wade, ” Logan growled, “is my friend. I don’t care if you fucking like him, but you aren’t going to say shit about him in front of me, got it?”

“So you are together. I knew it." 

Scott didn’t know shit; didn’t know anything about what he had going on with Wade, hell, Logan didn’t even really know. He’d always hated Scott’s smug fucking attitude - the fuck head always had to be right, always had to get the last word. The self righteous oozed off of him like noxious waste.

Logan would rather smash the glass in his hand and carve his own eardrums out than listen to a single fucking word Scott had to say about his relationship with Wade.

“I already said it was none of your fucking business," Logan said, trying to appear unaffected by Scott’s continued prying - the Wolverine was seconds away from leaping across the table and shutting him up for good. “And if you want me to even pretend to entertain whatever fucking bullshit you’re trying to sell me, you’ll drop it. Got it?"

Scott’s mouth twisted like he’d just bitten straight into a lemon. “Fine,” he said, prying the word from his mouth like a rotten tooth.

“Good. Now what the hell are you wanting to happen with all this?”

“We want you to come back. Or at least, consider coming back. You don’t have to actually commit to anything, alright? Just give it all a chance. I know you aren’t our Logan, but. . .” Scott sighed and looked down at the floor. “You are welcome at the school. You have a place there. Even if you don’t end up wanting it.”

A silent beat. Logan felt the heaviness of Scott’s words like the weight of the world, Atlas flexing his shoulders to get a better grip and causing the very ground to ripple with the movement. Nothing would be left untouched by what was said next.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Scott’s eyes shot back up, frenzied. “You’ll come back?”

“I didn’t say that,” Logan corrected, taking a long drink just to watch Scott squirm. “You want me to consider, I’ll consider. And that’s the best you’re gonna get.”

“I’ll take it,” Scott said, a bit too quickly, a cautious smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Now stay the fuck away from Wade,” Logan said, dropping the glass and getting to his feet. “If I smell you on him again, the only thing I’ll have to consider is whether I stab you through the head or the stomach.”

“Wade said something similar. Guess you two do have something in common.”

“ What did I just - ”

“Alright, alright, I’m dropping  it,” Scott conceded, throwing his hands up in surrender. “You can’t blame me for being curious.”

Logan huffed and pulled out his wallet, throwing a handful of bills onto the table. “Tell Charles next time he wants to harass someone, he can come do it his damn self.”

“The professor -”

“See you, Summers,” Logan tossed over his shoulder, already making his way to the door. He needed some fresh air, or maybe a smoke. Anything that got him out of the quickly shrinking enclosed space of the bar and away from Scott.

Logan felt his phone buzz in his pocket as he exited the bar, squinting against the sunlight. He ducked into a nearby alley, purposefully out of the way in case Scott left behind him and decided he still felt chatty.

Wade had gotten him the phone about a week ago after much whining about how he needed to be able to call Logan in an emergency. Logan had fought back tooth and nail, but had come home to find it on top of the couch with a big bow on it and a detailed list of handwritten instructions. Logan considered snapping the stupid thing in two and shoving both the pieces down Wade’s throat, but when he’d finally managed to unlock the fucking thing, he’d realized Wade had left him a gift to make up for it - several photos of Wade that had Logan’s teeth itching and cock quickly straining in his pants. Maybe the whole phone thing wasn’t so bad afterall. Plus, although Logan was reluctant to admit it, the convenience of the damned thing did make it easier to keep in touch with Laura and call Wade when he was out to remind him to pick up stuff.

Logan pulled out his phone and saw a text from Wade, partially blocking the screensaver Wade had picked out for him a few days ago - a picture of Wade holding Mary Puppins close to his head, laughing as her tongue licked up the side of his face. Logan liked the photo, the crinkle of Wade’s eyes and the full force of his smile.

With a tap, Logan pulled open the message to see what the hell Wade wanted now.

Wade: WOLVIEEE u gotta cum (hehe) home rn! edith made butterscotch cookies n they taste like an ACTUAL ORGASM get ur perky tush back as quick as possible!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The text was followed by a series of emojis Logan couldn’t even begin to decipher the meaning of - was that a fucking eggplant? - and an attached photo of Wade holding up three cookies in one hand like a Vegas card dealer with another one shoved halfway into his mouth.

Logan shook his head, lips ticking up in a quick smile, which soon dropped into a twisted frown. God, he was fucking screwed. He stared at the photo until a nearby car honked and startled him from his chaotic thoughts.

Logan sighed and closed the text, swiping up until he saw Laura’s contact. His finger hovered over her name, knowing that once he took this step forward, there would be no going back - but hell if he wasn’t going to take his life back with his own two hands.

He tapped the number and pressed the phone to his ear before he could chicken out, unable to distinguish between the ringing of the call and the ringing in his ears. After a few seconds, Laura answered. “Logan? What’s going on?”

“You free tomorrow?” Logan said, biting back his nerves. “I think I’m ready to give it a shot.”

***

Standing in front of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was like looking up at the gates of Hell - Logan was suddenly filled with the sinking realization that his fate was sealed, that every decision he ever made had led him to this moment.

Logan felt his heart try to leap into his throat and suffocate him to death. He swallowed reflexively, trying to force it back down. The only thing keeping his feet locked in place was Laura’s slowly approaching form, walking down the path towards the gates. If he couldn’t quite do it for himself, he would do it for her.

Laura greeted him with a wide smile and a wave. Logan raised his hand in return, hoping the expression on his face was more grin than grimace. Laura stopped on the opposite side of the gate and Logan tried to focus on her and not on the imposing building towering in the distance.

“I’m surprised you actually came," Laura said. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

"I definitely thought you were going to chicken out.” Laura stepped to the side and typed a series of numbers onto a keypad on one of the brick pillars. After a moment, the gates began to slowly creak open.

Laura slipped through the gap and came up to Logan, looking up at him with a knowing squint to her eyes. “You still thinking about running away?" 

“Yep."

“ Miedoso ,” Laura teased, shaking her head. She reached out and took one of Logan’s hands, grip tight around his fingers. “I can hold your hand the whole time if it will make you feel better.”

“Shut up,” Logan groused, giving Laura’s hand a quick, thankful squeeze before letting go. “I’m fine. Let’s just fucking do this. Charles know I’m coming?”

“Yes, he’s waiting for you in the gymnasium. Don’t worry, I told the other X-Men you were coming and made them promise to find somewhere else to be. Should only be trainees left.”

It was embarrassing as hell to admit, even to himself, but Logan was grateful Laura had the foresight to kick out a lot of the heavy hitters before he showed up. The thin strand of control he was currently using to slowly pull himself forward, arm over arm, might snap clean in half at the sight of an uncomfortably familiar face.

“Thanks," Logan forced himself to say, still not quite used to the way the word felt in his mouth. He certainly never had the opportunity to use it often back in his own timeline. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, crossing the boundary onto the school grounds.

He walked up to the front of the building in a sort of fugue state, alternating between staring at the winding path and glancing over at Laura - to her credit, she just smiled at him, hiding any judgement she might carry about a grown man cowering at the thought of going back to school.

Laura went up the steps first, grabbing onto the handle and waiting for Logan to join her. “I’m glad you are doing this,” Laura said. “It’s been good for me to have them around, and I think it will be good for you, too. Give you something to do that’s not just watching telenovelas with Wade all day.”

Logan couldn’t even argue - they both had recently gotten really into La Reina del Sur and Logan was pretty sure he and Wade had done little else but watch it and make out on the couch for at least two days in a row.

“Just don’t get too excited,” Logan warned, flexing his fists where they hung at his sides. “I can’t promise. . .well, I don’t know how I’m going to, uhhh, handle everything. Or if I even really want to do any of this shit.”

Laura looked down at the door handle thoughtfully, then back at Logan, at the tight set of his jaw and the twitching of his hands and the beads of sweat forming along his forehead. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes,” Laura repeated.

“Why?”

“Just do it, tonto. ”

Logan huffed and closed his eyes, somehow feeling more at edge now that he couldn’t see the school in front of him, like it was going to leap forward and swallow him whole the second he wasn’t looking. “Now what?”

“Tell me what the school looked like the last time you saw it.”

“Why would that. . .?”

“Since when has arguing with me ever worked for you?” Laura said, teasing. “Come on, I think it will help.”

Logan sighed, digging his fingers into the leg of his pants. This was the sort of shit he tried very hard to avoid remembering, but Laura was right - it was useless fighting here when she put her mind to something. “The outside. . .you could tell something had happened, but it wasn’t too bad. Smashed windows, graffiti. Shit, sometimes it just looked like that on a normal day.” The memories came back easier than Logan would like, slipping through the break in the dam with an eager speed. “Door was hanging off the hinges. Trash all over the damn place. I went inside and. . .”

Logan trailed off, fighting back a wave of nausea. Thinking about all this was picking at a long healed scar, digging his fingers into an old wound to spill new blood and make sure it never really faded. 

“What did you see?” Laura encouraged gently, her voice a helpful anchor to the present. He tied a rope around her presence and descended slowly into the memories, one foot at a time.

“The humans destroyed it. Ripped up the flooring, put holes in the walls, fucking. . .carved up the stairs. Made sure everything was fucking torn apart. I saw -”

He remembered stumbling further in, half out of his mind with worry; stepping over shattered glass and blood stained stretches of carpet - the only home he’d ever known in ruins around his feet. He’d found the bedrooms in a similar state, beds overturned, belongings in crumpled heaps against the walls, pillow stuffing scattered like guts across the floor. The whole place reeked of iron and piss, frying Logan’s nose and sending his instincts haywire. He ripped through the rest of the mansion, desperately searching, howling his grief, opening every door, until he found. . .

“Logan, open your eyes.”

Logan’s eyes snapped open, torn from the memory, to see Laura was holding open the door to the mansion. He could just see inside, the polished wood of the entryway, the warm light of the chandelier, the overpriced rugs Charles insisted made the place feel more “relaxed.” And most startling of all: life. Students walking back and forth, the sound of their chatter only slightly overpowering the distant sound of a piano being played. Logan sucked in a harsh breath and involuntarily stepped forward, drawn in by the warmth suddenly surging through his chest. 

As he made it through the door, it felt like coming home to a house from childhood someone else had moved into - the same walls, the same floor, but everything was slightly off. A different patterned rug extending from the door, a different colored trim running the length of the room, several different paintings framed above the staircase. Logan was glad for these small changes; had everything been the same, just as it was before, it would have felt sacreligious to walk inside, like disturbing a mausoleum. 

His entrance was met with several turned heads, especially from the students scattered along the stairs who gaped none too subtlety. Logan bared his teeth in response and the students quickly looked away, crashing like a wave into each other to start gossiping in low voices.

Laura stepped up beside him and butted her shoulder against his. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Logan answered, truthfully this time. “It is good. . .seeing it like this, you know? I wasn’t sure what it would be like.”

Laura smiled at him and walked to the right, gesturing for Logan to follow. “I’ll come with you to check out the rest later, but I think we should go see the professor now.”

Logan nodded and trailed after Laura, his head on a swivel as he tried to take it all in, like if he looked away for even a second, everything would disappear right before his eyes. He hadn’t been inside the mansion itself in years; he could never bring himself to go back to where it all happened, and the humans were quick to tear it down soon after to cover up the attack. 

Laura stopped in front of a set of double doors with a push bar. “The professor should be in here.”

Logan let out a heavy breath, psyching himself up. “Alright, let’s do it.”

As Laura placed her hand on the door, Logan heard her name be called out from down the hall. Both of their heads turned to see a group of students a little ways away, waving their arms in Laura’s direction. One shouted a series of words at her in Spanish that Logan couldn’t quite translate (Logan was slowly trying to learn for her sake, but old dog, new tricks and all that.) Laura responded with another quick couple of words and a large grin. She seemed happier than Logan had ever seen her, young and excited and bright in a way that made the dark thoughts in his mind recede just a little bit more.

“Why don’t you go over there,” Logan said, placing a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “I’ll be okay.”

Laura looked back at him, conflicted. “No, it’s okay, I can just-”

“Come on, kid, go to your friends.” Logan gave her a little shove in the direction of the group. “I gotta figure out how to deal with all this shit eventually anyway, take off the training wheels. Go have fun.”

Laura didn’t look like she fully believed him, but she nodded. “Okay. But call me if you need me to come back and I will. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“No promises.”

Laura gave him one last parting smile and then sped off to join her friends who easily swallowed her into their group. Logan watched for a moment and then turned towards the doors, forcing himself to put both hands out and push them open before he had too much time to think about it.

The doors opened into a sort of gymnasium, almost like a large basketball court but clearly modified to be used for the sort of training going on at Xaiver’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Several of the walls were padded with dark blue lengths of foam and the bleachers had been replaced with a stack of easily movable chairs. 

Standing in the middle of the court was a girl in an X-Men trainee uniform with a large pair of yellow headphones on, facing a row of evenly spaced glass tubes about ten feet in front of her. A few of them were broken on the ground, and several more had cracks running along the surface of the glass. To her left was Charles, also wearing a pair of yellow headphones with a tablet of some kind resting in his lap.

“I don’t think this is working, Professor Xavier,” the girl shouted, looking both annoyed and disappointed while glaring at the tubes.

“Just a moment, Beatrice,” Charles called out, turning his head to look at Logan. He gestured to a spot at his side and then turned his attention back to the girl. “I had a feeling country music wasn’t the proper motivator anyway. Let’s try something more upbeat.”

Logan came to a stop next to Charles who held up an extra pair of headphones. “You will want to put these on.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, but Charles didn’t elaborate. Logan took the headphones and put them on, feeling a little foolish. Charles’ fingers hit a few spots on the screen and Logan heard music start to play, a sort of jaunty old timey tune you’d hear in a cartoon from the 1950s. 

Beatrice looked over at the professor, a confused smile on her face. “Professor, what is this?”

“I thought perhaps something a little more light hearted would help.”

“This is just silly,” Beatrice laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think this is going to work, either.”

“Just give it a try, you never know. Perhaps your powers like silly music.”

Beatrice didn’t look convinced, but she refocused, staring intently at the glass tubes. Her mouth slightly parted and two of the tubes began to shake minutely, quivering like they’d been struck by a tiny hammer. Just under the din of the music, Logan could faintly hear a ringing noise, sharp but not consistent, rising and falling in a wobbly sort of pattern. 

After a minute, Beatrice shut her mouth and the ringing noise cut off, only leaving the music. She tugged her headphones off, sending her tight dark curls to poof out from where they’d previously been covered. “That wasn’t any better.”

Logan recognized the bitterness in her voice, had heard it a million times back when he was helping out at the mansion. There was nothing worse than not being able to fully control your power, to have to bend to its rules without even really knowing what they are. 

“We’ve made progress today, even if only a little,” Charles reassured, taking off his headphones. Logan followed suit. “Do your ears hurt at all?”

“Less than before,” Beatrice said, walking up to the tubes and looking over them with a critical eye. “The cracks are still too messy.”

“We’ll do some more practice tomorrow. If I’m not mistaken, your next class begins soon and I don’t want you to be late. As homework for tonight, ask one of the other students if they have any music they recommend. We will try those out next time. Unfortunately my own musical knowledge is fairly limited.”

“You got it, Professor Xavier. Thank you.” Beatrice handed the headphones back to Charles, gave Logan a quick up and down appraisal, and then left to the sound of slamming gymnasium doors. Logan was left along with Charles, trying to keep himself as collected as possible.

“Beatrice Allen,” Charles said, turning his chair to face Logan. “A fairly new recruit. She has the ability to create a high pitched ringing sound, but unfortunately she is still working on trying to control the pitch and avoid hurting her own ears while using it.”

“I could’ve come later if you’re working with students,” Logan said, shifting uncomfortably. 

“No, no, I wanted you to see this. The next generation.” Charles gestured to the stack of chairs against the wall. “Grab a chair.”

“You don’t want to move this into your office?” Logan asked, glancing at the doorway where anyone could walk in at any time.

“Trust me, Logan, this is far better than my office. Everyone looks for me there first, so it is not as peaceful as you might assume. Don’t worry, you have to reserve this room, so no one will interrupt us unless it is an emergency.”

Logan whipped his head back, glaring at Charles. “Don’t poke around in my fucking head.”

“My apologies,” Charles said, lifting his hands up slightly in contrition. “Force of habit. Sometimes even my powers get away from me. Please, sit. I think it is best if we are both comfortable for this conversation.”

Reluctantly, Logan grabbed a chair and placed it next to Charles, straddling it backwards so he could rest his arms along the back. “So.”

“So,” Charles repeated with an amused smile. 

“Your messenger boy was pretty persistent.”

Charles chuckled. “I assume you are referring to Scott.”

“Yep.”

“I’m afraid all of that was his own doing. I encouraged him to speak to you for his own personal reasons, but I see he perhaps took it a bit too far.”

“You seriously didn’t put him up to that?”

“I did not,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I understood you needed time to adjust. I think Scott was under the impression he could help you along in your decision.”

“He started following us.” Logan clenched his fist just thinking about Scott trailing after Wade, watching him from a distance. “Following Wade. Trying to psych him out or something.”

“His methods are unfortunate,” Charles agreed. “I never would have told him to bother either of you unless absolutely necessary.”

“I finally got him to fess up to it. Make him admit what he was trying to do. He. . .” Logan sighed, dragging a hand across his face. “He kept talking to me like I was the other Logan. The one you guys knew. But I’m not. ”

“I know that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You may look and sound like him, but you two are different in ways that become quite obvious if you look for them.”

“Like he was a world saving hero and I’m a fuck up?”

“No,” Charles said firmly. “The Logan I knew was certainly not without flaw. He made many mistakes, several which ended up costing someone their life. He might have become something great, but he certainly did not start off that way. He was rude, quick to fight, and often unkind. It took many years for him to let down the walls he had put up to keep the rest of the world out.”

Logan remained quiet, unsure of what to say.

“Your life took you down a different path. A dark path. I saw it in your mind when we first met. There is a sadness in you, a horrible guilt too large for you to contain. The loss of your X-Men has changed you irreparably. Your reluctance to let people get close to you led to the death of those you care for deeply. You regret not letting them know how much they actually meant to you before it was too late. Not letting them see who you really were.”

Logan laughed, dark and low. “Maybe you missed your calling going with the whole professor thing. Should have been a shrink.”

“The other Logan thought I should be a lawyer,” Charles said, folding his hands together on his lap and looking down at them, taking a beat of silence. “I do miss him. We all do. He was a part of our family and his absence haunts this place. But, I don’t want you to feel like you are a replacement. I want you to return to us not to fill the void our Logan left behind, but to help you.”

“Yeah?” Logan scoffed, leg jumping up and down at his side. Fuck, this conversation was getting a lot more serious than he was prepared for. Charles always had a way with words, a way to make you open up even when you really didn’t fucking want to. “How’s coming back here gonna do that? Everyone’s going to look at me like a dead man walking.”

“Don’t you look at me the same way?”

Logan’s leg stilled and he tensed, gripping the back of the seat. Fuck, Charles was too insightful for his own fucking good. Even now, when Logan looked up at him, it was a fifty fifty shot whether he saw this Charles or the one laying six feet under a whole universe away.

“Maybe they will look at you that way to start, but once they get to know you, see you , their minds will change,” Charles continued. “In the same way your mind will change about me. You are not my Logan, and I am not your Charles, but we can learn our differences together and use this opportunity to move past the ones we have lost.”

Logan nodded involuntarily, wanting so desperately for Charles’ words to be true. “I want that,” he forced out, though honesty always had him stumbling, unsteady. “I want. . .to be a part of something again. To do something good.”

“Wade,” Logan’s head shot up at the name, “has given you a rare opportunity. By bringing you here, you can begin again. Become the version of yourself you wish to be. And so can he. I’ve noticed you have been a good influence on him. We’ve always wanted Wade to be a part of the X-Men but couldn’t get through to him. So you can imagine my surprise when he came to me a few days ago, asking to join. I was -”

“-wait, what?” Logan interrupted, narrowing his eyes. “What did you just say?”

“That Wade stopped by to talk to me about joining the team?”

“What do you mean he ‘stopped by’?”

“Oh, dear,” Charles said, heaving a sigh. “I had hoped he would have already mentioned it to you. Wade came here to advocate for you both to join. He assumed you would eventually desire to do so and wanted to make sure if you joined, then he would also be allowed to tag along. I told him I had noticed his more recent attempts to change his ways and told him I would accept his demands, if my conditions were met.”

Logan felt anger roll in his stomach, baring his teeth and clenching his fists. He had lied to Wade about coming here, so he couldn’t really be upset that Wade had also lied, but the idea of Wade going to Charles without him made him uneasy. He didn’t understand Wade’s angle, what he got out of trying to con his way onto the team. Wade bitched about the X-Men almost nonstop and made it incredibly clear he enjoyed his life as a freelancer over being a member of a team. Part of the reason Logan had been so hesitant about even coming in the first place was because of Wade’s distaste for the whole thing. He’d worried by choosing the X-Men, Wade would want nothing to do with him, and Logan knew he wouldn’t be able to handle a rejection like that from the man he was quickly becoming so attached to. 

Why the hell would Wade lie to him about this of all things?

“What conditions?” Logan asked, trying to shove down the anger for later when he saw Wade again. No way was he letting the fucking moron get away with going behind his back about something this important. 

“My conditions are that both you and Wade would join the X-Men but as trainees for at least three months, during which time you will be attending classes and power training. He agreed, but I warned him that he would need to convince you as well, or the deal was off.”

“ Trainees? ” Logan spit out, leaning forward enough to make the chair tilt on its legs. “You cannot be fucking serious.”

“I am.”

“I’ve been an X-Men for fucking years and you want me to put on one of those stupid little shirts and sit in the back of a classroom taking notes? Wade, sure, he’s good at fighting but terrible at listening to fucking anyone, but -”

“I am not budging on this,” Charles said simply, like the argument had already been won. “Those are my terms. Either you and Wade both accept, or there is no place for you at this school. You might both have experience, but if you really want me to treat you like you aren’t the Logan we lost, then I must put my foot down about this matter. You and I are strangers, I have never seen you fight or work with a team. The training will better help me and the rest of the team know how to best integrate you both. Do you understand?”

Logan felt properly scolded in a way he hadn’t felt since his first days as an X-Men. Why, oh god fucking why, did Charles always have to be right. “Fine,” Logan grumbled, dropping his seat back onto the floor. “But I’ll have to talk to Wade first. Can’t fucking believe he didn’t tell me.”

“Perhaps he was just waiting for the right time. Now, there is much more I would like to discuss with you, several recent incidents that give cause for concern, but that will all have to wait until you’ve officially joined. Besides that, do you have any questions for -”

The gymnasium door slammed open, almost making Logan jump clear out of his seat. He whipped around, a growl building in his throat, to see Negasonic Teenage Warhead walking across the room, phone in hand.

“Sorry, professor,” she said, coming to a stop next to Logan’s chair. “I know you said to only interrupt in case of an emergency, so. . .” Negasonic flipped her phone around and held it out in front of Logan’s face, showing off a text conversation. “I think he meant to send this to you.”

Logan squinted against the bright light of the phone, pulling back until he could see it more clearly. At the top of the conversation was the name Deadpool followed by a long series of one sided text conversations, all sent from Wade. The most recent one caught Logan’s attention.

Deadpool: wulvie cim quck they ffsd go me sunsert motel helllpppf

“What the fuck?”

“I’m pretty sure my name in his phone is ‘W Elle W’ so he probably clicked on the wrong name,” Negasonic said, popping her gum. “My guess is he’s tied up or something, he’s not a good texter but he’s usually better than this.”

Logan got to his feet, red beating at the sides of his vision. “Someone’s got him?”

“That’d be my guess. Sunset motel is like ten minutes from here, really fucking sketchy place. Wouldn’t be surprised if Wade got involved in something stupid.”

“I have to go find him,” Logan said, turning and heading toward the door, all his anger at Wade twisting into worry. Wade was technically immortal but Logan remembered that run in at the warehouse like it was yesterday. Wade couldn’t die, but he could be hurt, and Logan wasn’t going to let that happen.

“It’s probably fine but you know,” Negasonic shrugged, already looking back down at her phone and typing. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Logan,” Charles called out after him. Logan didn’t stop, just turned his head enough to see the professor behind him. “Think about what I said. And be careful.”

Logan nodded in response and then slammed open the gymnasium doors, sprinting out into the hallway. God help whatever fucking idiot decided to touch what wasn’t fucking theirs - Logan was going to rip them to shreds. 

***

Even without the room number, Logan was able to find Wade easily. He followed his nose, chasing Wade’s familiar scent past the dingy check in counter - the man behind it didn’t even look up from his phone as Logan barreled past - and through the discolored hallways of the motel. A lot of different smells assaulted his senses - the burning sting of bleach, a heavy air of cigarette smoke, tacky latex, and slowly festering mold. Logan cast them all aside, locking in on the distant aroma of cherry blossoms and warmth further in the building.

He swung his head to the left and the right as he passed room after room, growling low under his breath. Whenever he caught whoever was holding Wade, he was going to make them fucking pay. 

Towards the back of the building, he finally found it - Room 185, an ugly yellow door with peeling paint and crooked numbers. A bucket of ice lay upturned in front of the door, now half melted. As much as he wanted to simply kick it in, Logan took a deep, steadying breath and pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear what was going on inside. 

Two voices came through, muffled, but clear enough for Logan’s sensitive hearing to be able to pick up. “- for one job. We aren’t being paid enough to deal with two freaks.”

“It doesn’t matter, we can’t just let him walk away. He saw that we got the orange guy and you heard how much he was fucking blabbing before you gagged him. He would rat us out for sure. And he punched you in the goddamn face .”

“Yeah, sure, but what the fuck do we do with him?” the first voice said with a groan. “Orange is getting picked up by the buyer, but Ugly is just sitting there. The buyer didn’t ask for two and he sure didn’t pay for another one.”

“Well, we got two options: we kill him or we try to sell him. He’s clearly some kind of fucking mutant, maybe the buyer will want a set and we can squeeze more money out of him.”

“With how much he pissed me off earlier, I’m thinking killing would be better. What if we -”

Logan didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence. He took a step back, then ran forward, slamming his shoulder against the door. It gave out pathetically easy, flying off the hinges and falling to the floor with a loud bang. Logan entered the room, stepping on the broken door and unsheathing his claws with a growl.

“What the fuck -”

Logan heard two gun clicks but didn’t even bother to look up, building growl getting stuck in his throat at the sight before him. 

Wade was leaning against the end of the bed, wrists and ankles securely tied with a length of rope. Logan trailed his eyes up miles of exposed skin to the hem of the red shorts Wade was wearing - so tiny they barely covered his ass and tight enough to leave very little to the imagination. If that wasn’t distracting enough, his entire stomach was exposed, showing off his abs and bringing focus to the X-Men themed crop top he was wearing. The sleeves were short enough to accentuate his arm muscles and when he shifted, the shirt raised high enough to show a teasing flash of his chest. Wade locked eyes with Logan and wobbled back and forth a bit, saying garbled gibberish into the duct tape slapped over his mouth.

The sound of a gun going off startled Logan out of his haze just as pain exploded in his shoulder. He grunted and stumbled back, glancing over to see a bullet lodged in his skin. The Wolverine howled with rage, pawing at the floor of its cage, maw dripping with drool.

His head whipped back to attention, taking in the room at large and not just Wade’s bare skin. Two men stood further into the room, standing in front of a wide window covered in a piss colored curtain. They were both dressed casually in street clothes and black beanies pulled low on their foreheads. One had a gun raised and pointed at Logan, smoke still rising out of the barrel. The other had a gun trained on Wade, high enough that if fired the bullet could go straight through his head. 

Next to both of them, in the corner of the room beside the beds was another figure, huddled in on themself. Their face was tucked against their bound hands resting on their knees, hidden by a messy head of orange and white hair. Logan could just barely make out the smattering of orange splotches along their skin and the aggravated flicking of a pointed devil like tail. Logan guessed this was the “Orange” the two guys had been talking about - a poor mutant bastard these assholes wanted to sell to the highest bidder.  

“You got three seconds to put the goddamn guns down and get the fuck out of here before I gut you like a fucking fish,” Logan barked, clashing his claws together just to watch the fuckers jump.

“Stay back!” said the man with the gun aimed at Logan. He had a large, fresh cut under one eye that was slowly swelling closed. 

“Three.”

“I said stay the fuck back!” Two more bullets hit Logan, one in his leg and the other in his lower stomach. Logan moved forward slowly, but steadily, barely feeling the bullets as they popped out of his skin and clinked onto the ground. 

“Two.” Another round of bullets, now from both men who Logan was now fully convinced where fucking moron nobodies who got caught up in some high level shit they didn’t understand. He almost felt bad for them, but they’d fucked up big time messing with one of the very few people Logan gave a shit about.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Wade started to take advantage of the attention being off him to start wiggling out of his bonds. Further back, the other mutant had barely raised his head, looking curiously at Logan with a set of orange and white mismatched colored eyes. 

“One.”

“God fucking dammit, I didn’t sign up to fight the fucking Wolverine!” Bad guy #2 yelled, swinging his gun wildly to the side. His eyes darted to Wade, sweat trailing from his temple, and lifted to aim the barrel back at Wade’s head. 

Big mistake. 

Before Logan could lunge forward and tear the guy’s head off, Wade sprung up and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck to drag him to the floor. The gun went off in the following scuffle, but knowing Wade was out of immediate danger was enough for Logan to set his sights on the other man and slash his claws forward. 

Bad guy #1 just managed to react in time, stumbling backwards to avoid the blow. Logan’s claws cut through the fabric of his shirt but barely nicked the skin. Logan didn’t let up, following the retreat with another jab. The man hit the ground and Logan got him through the leg, pinning him to the floor. Over the sound of pained screaming, Logan heard a strange shuffling noise to his left. His head shot up, teeth bared, to see the mutant from before being untied from his bindings by. . .himself? Another mutant was standing behind the first one, appearance almost identical except for a few slight differences in the hair and pattern of the orange splotches. 

Both mutants caught Logan’s gaze as the ropes fell from around the first one. They stood still for a moment, like a deer stuck in the headlights of an oncoming semi truck, and then the second mutant quickly dissolved into a puddle of orange colored goop on the floor. Between Logan’s confused blinks, the first mutant sprinted towards the window and jumped forward, shattering glass and escaping into the night. 

Logan grunted as a bright sting of pain shot through his chest, looking back down to see that bad guy number one had unloaded another bullet. “Give it a fucking rest,” Logan growled, yanking his claws out of the man’s thigh and grabbing the gun. He threw it across the room blindly and then placed his claws threateningly against the man’s neck.

“Hold on, baby cakes,” Logan heard from over his shoulder. A bare leg came into his field of vision and he couldn’t help but follow it up to see Wade standing above him, holding the other man’s gun loosely in his hand. It shouldn’t be as hot as it was, but Logan felt his eyes trail along Wade’s skin, catching a glimpse of his nipples underneath his crop top. 

Logan felt his teeth itch to get one of those sweet nubs in his mouth, make Wade cry out underneath him while he teased the sensitive skin. Logan shook his head firmly, trying to remember that he was mad at Wade for lying to him. 

“What?” Logan snapped.

“You look like you’re gonna make this man start talking through his asshole,” Wade chided, dropping into a crouch next to Logan, which was even worse because it made his shorts ride up even higher and his thighs look even bigger and fuck. Logan tore his gaze away to refocus on the man he still held at claw point. “I just figured you might not want to do that. These guys are not worth our time.”

“They hurt you,” Logan said, feeling the anger return and twitch his hand just a little higher, enough to cut into the man’s skin. 

“Psshhh, don’t even worry about it, sweetie pie. If anything, I hurt them. Got this guy right in the face, oooh that’s gonna heal real nasty,” Wade said, leaning forward and bopping the bad guy right on the cut beneath his eye. “But seriously, they don’t know anything. I was listening the whole time. Just a couple of idiots who don’t even work for the guy they’re trying to sell mutants to. Boring. ”

“You’re on a job?” Logan said, hurt that Wade hadn’t let him know about it beforehand. “Dressed like that?”

“Oh, no, I’m not,” Wade said, sounding sheepish. “I-”

“P-please, let me go, I just want to -”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Wade shouted, hitting the man upside his head. “I was literally talking. Fucking rude, bad guys have no manners nowadays. Anyway, Wolvie, I was actually planning a little surprise for you.”

Logan blinked, turning his head far enough to look at Wade’s knee. “A surprise?”

“Yeah. A. . .” Wade paused, glancing down at the bad guy, then leaning forward to whisper. “A sexy surprise.”

“Yeah, I got that. You’re barely wearing any fucking clothes.”

“Do you like it?” Wade said, holding his arms out to show off. “I thought you might.”

Logan very purposefully did not look. “How the fuck did you end up in here?”

“It was an accident.” Wade waved his hand dismissively. “I was coming back with ice for the beers I got you and accidentally opened the wrong door. Whoopsies! But I saw the poor fucker they had tied up and tried to help, then that asshole,” Wade gestured to the right, supposedly at the man in the room. “Hit me on the back of the head. I came to all tied up and then they just argued for a while about what the fuck to do with me. It sucked. I’m glad you got my text and came to rescue me.” Wade sighed dreamily and leaned against Logan. “My knight in shining adamantium.”

All that bare skin being pressed away against Logan was making it hard to think. He stood suddenly, dislodging Wade with a startled yelp. “Whatever. What the fuck are we going to do with them, then?” Logan said, looking over to see the second man slumped over the side of the bed, unconscious. 

“I say we tie them up and stick them in the closet. Leave them for the cleaning staff to find. There were enough gun shots I’m sure somebody has already called the police so they can take care of it.” Wade got to his feet and stretched, groaning with the effort. Logan felt the tips of his ears burn red, trying desperately not to look. “Besides, I want you to come back to my room. The surprise might be ruined but we can still have a little fun.”

Logan just nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. He grabbed bad guy number one and dragged him over to the closet. Wade soon joined him with bad guy number two and they both worked together to tie the assholes up and shut the closet door firmly in their faces. “You know, I’m starting to get why Spidey likes tying people up so much, it really is the best. Alright, come on, Sugar Bear, let’s get out of here.”

Wade grabbed Logan’s arm and tugged him out of the room. Turned out, Wade’s room was only a few doors down, just as shitty as the others. Wade pulled out a key from somewhere on his body - Logan didn’t want to know - and unlocked the door. Inside was similar to the other room, but with one bed instead of two. A long window ran along the other side with blue curtains mostly closed. Next to the bed on the nightstand was a heart-shaped box of chocolates already open surrounded by a handful of beers.

“I know it’s not much but you know, the outfit was supposed to be the big surprise. This place is a shit hole but I wanted somewhere low key where they wouldn’t ask any questions. Also sorry about the chocolates, I got hungry. Still got plenty of beers, though. And - ugh, hold on, Wolvie, someone’s texting me and they won’t stop.” Wade pulled out his phone - again, Logan didn’t want to know - and glared down at the screen. “Negasonic? What the hell does she want, she never texts. . .”

Wade’s face scrunched up in confusion and he brought the phone closer to his face. After some rapid tapping, he looked up at Logan. “Wolvie. . .I didn’t text you, I accidentally butt texted Negasonic, and she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to text you. How did you know I was here?”

Logan took a deep breath, knowing things might be about to get ugly. He was going to tell the truth because he was sick of all the fucking lying, and the conversation needed to happen anyway. Ideally it wouldn’t have happened while Wade was standing across the room from him, wearing barely any clothing and being distracting as sin, but it couldn’t be helped. 

“She showed it to me.”

“Showed it to you?” Wade questioned, eyes narrowed. “Are you hanging out with Negasonic behind my back because that is super messed up, you know. She has way too much dirt on me and she WILL blab about it just to screw with me. Where did you guys even go?”

“I wasn’t with her, I was. . .” Logan dragged a hand through his hair, wishing all this shit was easier. “I was at the mansion. Talking to Charles.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to slice skin. Wade stared at Logan, a blank expression on his face as he held the phone loosely between his fingers. “Oh.”

“Oh? The fuck does that mean?”

“I thought I had more time,” Wade said, so quiet it was almost hard to hear. Logan had never seen him like this, carefully empty, eyes unfocused.

“More time to what ?”

“I thought I had more time before you left me.”

“What?” Logan said, feeling like he was playing poker with half the cards missing. 

“You’re going back to them, right? That’s why you went. You’re leaving.”

“I went to talk to Charles, alright? That’s all. Doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”

“Yeah,” Wade scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, face slowly flushing in the way it always did when he was getting mad. “ Sure.”

“You calling me a fucking liar?”

“Yeah, I am. No fucking way you just went to the X-Men mansion just to chat. You’re leaving me to run off to the fucking boy scouts.”

“Don’t put fucking words in my mouth.”

“I will put them in your. . .fucking, ugh!” Wade walked towards the bed, brow furrowed. “I know it’s the fucking truth. You were just fucking waiting for the chance to leave.”

Logan growled, feeling his claws ache to shoot forward. What the fuck was Wade talking about? “Now why the fuck would I be ‘waiting for a chance to leave’? That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“I literally time traveled to bring my girlfriend back from the goddamn dead and even that wasn’t enough to keep her around! I’m so fucked up that breaking the fucking laws of physics isn’t enough to make someone stay." Wade was pacing now, quick laps around the bed while his arms swung wildly, punctuating every word. “I’m a fucking people . . . fuck, what’s the opposite of a magnet? A fucking people . . .exploder! Anyone comes within five feet of me and I blow them up with how annoying I am!" 

“ Hey -" 

“Don’t try to tell me I’m not! You know it, I know it, the readers know it, everyone fucking knows it! So yeah, I knew it was only a matter of time before Charles jangling the keys to the mansion in front of your face was more interesting than watching my fucking clown show. And I was right! You fucking went!”

"You fucking went, too, don’t fucking start-”

"I went to try and save my own ass!” Wade shouted, whirling to a stop with his fists clenched white at his sides. "I’m a fucking leech. I knew you would leave me for them, so I wanted to make sure you couldn’t. They make me an X-Men, you’re fucking stuck with me, and I get to pretend for a few more months that you actually want me around.”

Logan scoffed. “You think I’d still be here if I didn’t want to be? When have you ever seen me do a goddamn thing I didn’t want to do?”

“You’re a good guy! You’re being nice and pretending -" 

Logan laughed out loud at those words, bitter and short. “A good guy? Are you out of your fucking mind? I am the reason my family died because I was fucking selfish-”

"That wasn’t your fault-”

"The hell it wasn’t,” Logan growled, moving closer to where Wade stood towards the end of the bed. "You don’t get to tell me shit about it. You weren’t there. I fucked up. I screwed everything up. You aren’t the only destructive piece of shit in the fucking world and I’m sick of hearing you talk like you are.”

"The X-Men want you back, not me. I’m the fucking leech biting into your leg they are tsking at but letting slide until they can find the chance to yank me off." 

"Why do you care so much what those fuckheads think, huh? Who gives a shit?”

"Because I want to be one of those fuckheads!” Wade plopped down on the edge of the bed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes. “I want it so badly it’s honestly pretty fucking embarassing. I talk a lot of shit about them, but Vanessa was fucking right. I want to be part of something, do something important. But every fucking time I try I get the door slammed in my face and a ‘better luck next time’ pep talk. But you. . .” Wade paused, crazed smile peeking out from the spread of his fingers. “You just get handed it. You don’t even have to ask and they’re literally banging down your door to come pick you up and take you to summer camp. It’s not fucking fair.”

“Well who says I even want it, huh? Just because they’re holding it out doesn’t mean I have to take it.”

“Of course you fucking want it!” Wade snapped with an unusual harshness to his voice. “I can see it all over your face. We ran into two X-Men at the aquarium and it fucked you up so bad you didn’t touch me for a week. You want to go back to them, you think about them constantly, and I can’t even blame you. When the options are between me and a second shot at the family you lost in your own universe?” Wade scoffed and dropped his hands into his lap, staring at the floor. “Why the fuck would you ever choose me?”

Logan didn’t even make a conscious step forward, his body simply moved, crowding into Wade’s space. Maybe it was the Wolverine - howling like a goddamn banshee at the sight of Wade’s watering eyes - who moved his hands to lock around Wade’s wrists and push him back on the bed, using his legs to pin Wade in place. 

“Logan, what the hell -”

“Shut up, fucking, be quiet,” Logan growled, shaking red from his vision. The Wolverine was furious, digging claws into Logan’s brain, barking a repeating mantra of comfortcomfortcomfort. “I want to choose you.”

Wade rolled his eyes, anger warring with misery in the complicated shape of his frown. “Don’t just say shit. You don’t fucking mean it. I always knew you were going to ditch me at some point, just fucking rip the bandaid off already so I can get a head start on figuring out how many bullets it takes for me to forget you ever happened.”

All the fight fell out of Wade as he went limp under Logan’s hold, determinedly staring at the wall to his left while his teeth dug into his trembling bottom lip. The Wolverine followed Wade’s surrender, the anger from before shifting into a horrible anguish. Logan needed to do something before the sad, echoing whimpers could pull him under, too. 

“I. . .goddamn fucking damn it, okay." Logan took a deep breath, collecting every single one of his nerves on the tip of his tongue. “I like you." 

Wade’s eyes snapped back to Logan, staring up at him like he’d just asked Logan what 2 + 2 was and gotten the answer 46 in response.

“You like me?" 

“Yes, you fucking moron." 

“Wait. . .like like like me or like me?”

Logan blinked. "What?”

"Which one?”

"Huh?" 

Wade rolled his eyes again. “Which kind of like?" 

“I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about." 

“Do you like, " Wade said, extending out one finger on his left hand, “or like like me?" He repeated the gesture on his right hand with two fingers.

“Uhhh. . ." Logan’s eyes darted back and forth between the fingers as if looking at them long enough would magically explain whatever the hell Wade was talking about. “Like like? I think." 

“Oh my fucking god,” Wade breathed. “Are you sure?" 

“Yes?" 

“That didn’t sound very sure."

"Jesus Christ, just fucking listen, alright?” Logan let go of Wade’s wrists and sat back, letting Wade pull himself into a sitting position with his knees tucked against his chest. “I like. . . being around you. I feel comfortable. Safe . Steady. Back in my world, everything was shit. I was shit. But you look at me sometimes and I feel - God, this is so fucking stupid, ugh, I feel. . . like maybe I’m not shit. Like I can be better than before, corny as that fucking sounds.”

Wade stared, wide eyed, more vulnerable and unsure than Logan had ever seen him. “You’re being serious?” Wade said, voice low. “You actually. . .you’re not, I don’t know, just doing this because you feel bad?”

“I’m not in the habit of saying shit I don’t mean.”

“So I’m just supposed to believe that you like me?”

“Why are you fighting me on this so fucking much?” Logan grumbled, a red flush creeping up his neck. It was hard enough saying the words in the first place, he didn’t expect to have to elaborate or that Wade would argue with him about it.

“Look at me,” Wade said with a dry laugh, limply gesturing to his body. “Sorry if I am having a hard time believing someone as hot as you would even give a guy like me the time of day, never fucking mind say he like likes me.”

Logan knew Wade was insecure about his looks - he mentioned it at least once on a good day, dozens of times on a bad one - but the utter disgust threading through Wade’s words still left him reeling. “After everything we’ve done and you still think I care about all that?”

“As I’ve had to learn the hard way, baby cakes, having lots of sex doesn’t mean people actually like each other. Or even think the other person is attractive. I’ve had my fair share of hook ups who kept their eyes closed. Can’t say I blame them.”

Logan bit back a growl, feeling red creep into his eyes. The thought that anyone could get the chance to be with Wade and make him feel so disgusting - Logan’s claws itched with the urge to hunt every single one down and show them what ugly really looked like.

Fed up with words, Logan cupped the side of Wade’s face and pulled him forward, turning his head so he could drag his lips across Wade’s temple. He pressed a light kiss there, then several more, trailing down until he reached Wade’s jaw. He felt Wade tremble underneath the delicate touches and the sudden taste of salt against his lips. He took a deep breath, inhaling Wade’s comforting scent, then pulled back to look him in the eye. 

Wade’s eyes were watery and red rimmed, darting all around Logan’s face like he didn’t know where to look. Logan cupped Wade’s jaw in both of his hands, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles along his cheeks. Holding Wade like this felt like clutching a live butterfly between your palms, feeling its delicate wings batter desperately against your skin - one wrong move and you’d break it beyond repair. 

“I like how you look,” Logan said quietly, shared in the air between their faces like a private prayer.

A fresh stream of tears soaked Logan’s palms. Wade swallowed harshly and turned his face, leaning into Logan’s touch. “I know I’m bad at saying what I’m feeling,” Logan continued. “I can’t promise you it’ll get any better. In my experience, the less people know about you, the better. But you ain’t ever used any of my bullshit against me. . .except in bed.”

Wade laughed at that, a short, wet sound Logan felt vibrate against his palm. “The whole feral thing is hot, what can I say?” Wade muttered, almost sounding like his usual self. “An AO3 reader’s wet dream come true.”

“I know I lied to you about the school and I’m sorry,” Logan said, the shape of an apology strange on his tongue. “But I’m not lying about this. I will never lie about this. And I’ll be even more honest. . .” Logan sighed, tracing the line of Wade’s jaw. “You’re right. I do want to give the X-Men thing I shot. I don’t really know why, or what I’m expecting, or fucking anything. But I do. And I want you to be there, too. Or else I’m not doing it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Logan let out an oomph as Wade barreled into him, wrapping around his body like a drowning cat. They both fell back onto the bed in an awkward tangle of limbs, the movement enough to remind Logan just how little clothing Wade was wearing. He pinched his leg and purposefully refocused his thoughts as Wade pressed against him, tucking his face against Logan’s shoulder. It was by no means a comfortable position, with their legs half hanging off the bed and Logan’s arm crushed under Wade’s body, but Logan had never felt more content as Wade’s soft breaths tickled his neck.

“I like like you, too, Wolvie,” Wade said, a whispered confession in the chapel formed by their bodies. “And I’m sorry for lying, too. I can’t ‘educated wish’ my way out of this one, I did just actually lie.”

Logan chuckled, sliding his hand down to cup the back of Wade’s head. “I would tell you not to do it again, but I know you’re gonna.”

“I do love lying,” Wade said wistfully. Wade tilted his head back into Logan’s hold, brown eyes still slightly rimmed with red but crinkled at the edges in amusement. Logan heard the Wolverine’s delighted purr in his head, and only a second later realized he was also making the same noise. Embarrassment choked the sound in his throat, turning it into a sort of cut off hiccup. Wade laughed, wiggling up to press a quick kiss against Logan’s lips. “You’re so cute, Wolvie. Little a big ol’ kitty cat.”

“I’m not fucking cute .”

“You are. Super duper cute. With your kitty ears and your pointy claws. All you need is a little tail.” Wade’s hand slid to Logan’s ass and gave it a playful squeeze.

“I’m going to kill you,” Logan growled, covering Wade’s mouth in a brutal kiss of biting teeth.

“Promises, promises.” Wade dove into the kiss, opening his mouth sweetly underneath Logan’s onslaught. His mouth tasted faintly of chocolate and mostly like home, a sharp sweetness Logan desperately wanted more of. His hands slid underneath that stupid fucking crop top, holding Wade in place so he could go even harder, get Wade whimpering and wanting. 

The loud screech of a police siren cut through the sound of Wade’s steadily growing moans. Soon, the motel room was bathed with flashing blue and red lights, close enough to catch the angry glint of Logan’s eyes. “Of fucking course,” he groaned, slipping his hands out from Wade’s clothing. “We should get out of here before they start coming door to door.”

“Awwww,” Wade pouted, throwing his arms exasperatedly over his head. “But we were just about to have really hot ‘I like-like you sex’. I’ve heard it’s even better than ambiguous relationship sex.”

Logan rolled off the bed and stood up, twisting to stretch out his shoulders. He was getting way too old to be rolling around on shitty motel mattresses. He held out a hand to Wade to help him up. Wade took it and Logan tugged him upright until they were face to face, then pressed a quick kiss to Wade’s forehead. “Something tells me it’ll be even better if we don’t have cops kicking down the door halfway through.”

Wade’s face flushed pink. “I don’t know, honey bunches, I do have a bit of a voyeuristic streak in me. Although my hatred of cops might overcome my horniess so fair enough. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

"One sec.” Logan walked towards the closet and yanked it open, looking around until he spotted a folded up white robe on the top shelf. He grabbed it and blindly flung it back in Wade’s direction. “Put that on." 

When he turned around, Wade was holding the robe in front of his body like a dress with a confused furrow to his brow. “Why? I thought you liked my crop top." 

“Don’t want anyone else seeing you dressed like that," Logan responded, half under his breath. The Wolverine barked in agreement, growling low at the thought of people seeing their mate so scantily clad. 

Wade rolled his eyes but tossed the robe on, cinching it tight around his waist. Logan almost immediately regretted the decision - with the little clothes he was wearing covered up, it now looked like Wade was wearing nothing underneath. “Possessive bastard,” Wade mumbled, smiling like an idiot. “I really hope the author put that in the fic tags because holy hell, Wolvie.”

“Shut up,” Logan said, shoving Wade towards the door of the motel room and pointedly not letting his eyes rake up and down Wade’s body. “We’re leaving.”

“Ooooh, maybe I can get Charles to give you an X-Men themed crop top as well. Just for sexy times, of course, god, if you wore that thing out on the field the only fighting that would happen is over who gets to slam their face into your tits.”

“ I said -”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, I know,” Wade dismissed, flapping one hand in Logan’s direction as he pulled open the door and peeked down the hallway. “Looks like the coast is clear for now.” Wade looked back over his shoulder, a playful glint in his eye. “Race you to the back door?”

Wade didn’t wait for a response, pushing off the door frame and sprinting down the hallway, robe flapping wildly around his body to reveal teasing flashes of his legs. Logan growled and took off after him, grinning ear to ear.

***

“Hmmmm,” Charles said, flipping through the stack of papers in his hand. The grandfather clock in his office ticked steadily forward, punctuating the silence.

Across the desk sat Logan and Wade, dressed down to their civies. Wade’s leg was jumping up and down and his hands were twisting together in his lap, no doubt a ball of nerves as Charles decided their fate. Logan discretely reached out and placed a steadying hand on Wade’s thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. He didn’t look at Wade, but he felt the muscles under his hand suddenly tense, and then release. Logan patted his leg twice and then pulled his hand back as Charles glanced up at them.

“Looks like this is all in order. All the paperwork is correct and I quite enjoyed some of the doodles in the margins,” Charles said, placing the stack onto the desk with a smile. “Congratulations to both of you and welcome to the X-Men trainee program.”

“Fuck yes!” Wade shouted, jumping up from his chair. He ran over and wrapped his arms around Charles shoulders, placing his cheek against the top of Charles’ head. “I knew you would come in clutch for me, Charlie boy, us baldies gotta stick together.”

“You’re quite welcome, Wade, now if you could please -”

“You won’t regret this, don’t even worry about it, Wolvie and I are going to be on our absolute best behavior. I’m usually lying when I say that but this time I mean it!”

“Wade, sit the fuck down,” Logan said exasperatedly, once again unable to believe this was the man he’d chosen to stick with. 

“Sorry, baby cakes,” Wade said, letting Charles go with a sheepish grin. “I’m just so fucking excited. We get to be real superheroes now. With actual paychecks and everything! Which is good because Al made it very clear we still have to pay our part of the rent even though we aren’t even living there for three months. You know, I told her -”

“Wade.”

“Right, right, sitting down now.” Wade came back around the desk and as he passed Logan, he ruffled his hair. Logan flushed, embarrassed at the warmth crawling across his chest at the gesture, the way his heart picked up its pace in response to Wade’s touch. Fuck, yep, he really was screwed. 

“There are just a couple of general rules to go over before I let you both lose in the mansion,” Charles said. “One, which should be obvious, while you are representing the X-Men there will be absolutely no killing. And from now until your training period is over, you are representing the X-Men. Understood?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” Wade said, giving a mock salute. “No killing. Only maiming.”

“No maiming, either.”

“Booooo,” Wade stuck out his tongue, blowing a raspberry. “This place sucks already.”

Logan smacked him on the arm, ignoring Wade’s petulant whine at the hit. “We understand, Professor,” Logan said.

“Good. Two, you will be expected to stay at the mansion for the duration of your training period. You are not trapped here, of course,” Charles added, cutting Wade off as he was about to interrupt. “You are both adults, you are free to wander. But you must return to the mansion every night. Any extenuating circumstances must be communicated to your trainer.”

“And who, pray tell, will be in charge of training us?” Wade asked, drumming his fingers on the armrests of his seat.

“Whichever X-Men volunteers for the task,” Charles said. “So far, many of them have been rather reluctant. I should have an answer for you, soon.”

“Fair, fair, not everyone is able to handle all of this, ” Wade said, gesturing to himself. He looked over at Logan and gave him a flirty wink. Charles raised an eyebrow and Logan resisted the urge to strangle Wade. “Any other rules we should know about, Charlie Brown?”

“Everything else will be in here.” Charles slid two folders across the desk. Logan took the one that said Wolverine on the top and half-heartedly flipped through it, eyes glazing over quickly. He wasn’t really a paper work kind of guy. “The rules, your class and training schedules, your room assignments, and a few other things. I encourage both of you to take a look at all of it in depth once you get settled. Despite any history you have with the X-Men, you will be treated like any other trainees here, which includes disciplinary action should you not show up to your classes or dismiss your training.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, goody two shoes shit, I got it,” Wade said, rolling his eyes. He got to his feet and swiped his unopened folder off the desk. “We good to go? There’s some posters I’m itching to put up in my new room that Wolvie said were too ugly for the living room. Oh, and my strings lights, ugh, this is going to be soooo cool. Party in my room later! Charles, you aren’t invited, not because I don’t like you but having the principal there would really harsh the vibe.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, Wade, you are free to go. Please try not to cause too much trouble.”

“Let’s go, big guy,” Wade said, grabbing Logan’s arm and tugging him out of the chair. Logan allowed it only because he really did want to leave as well, get to his own room and have a moment to just sit with the weight of all the choices he’d just made. Nothing was going to be the same ever again.

He gave Charles a curt nod and let Wade pull him out of the office, content to go along with Wade’s nonsense until he was suddenly pushed against the wall. He growled as Wade’s hands locked around his wrists, holding him in place with the super strength he rarely used against Logan. “What the fuck -”

“Shhhh, Honey Badger,” Wade crooned, pressing up against Logan in a horribly distracting way. He slid his thigh between Logan’s legs, just enough pressure to rut up against. Logan’s eyes darted down either side of the hallway, looking for any one who might catch them in the act, but ultimately his eyes were drawn back to the playful heat in Wade’s eyes and the wet shine of his lips. “I just have one question for you.”

“ What?” Logan grumbled, fight falling out of him as Wade turned his face to press his lips against Logan’s ear. 

“Are we going to christen your room or mine first?”

Logan flexed his wrists against Wade’s hold, feeling heat surge through his body. “ Mine.”

“Let’s go see just how soundproof these walls are, huh? Last one there has to wear the crop top.”

Wade pressed a wet kiss on Logan lips, let him go, and ran off down the hall, laughing at the top of his lungs. Logan shook the haze of red from his vision. Fuck, Wade must have figured out Logan had a thing for chasing him down.

Logan pushed off the wall and started prowling after Wade slowly. He was eager to make some new memories in this old mansion - starting with the sound of Wade’s giggles echoing through the hall, his sweet cherry blossom scent a winding trail to their temporary new home.

He would never really be able to completely get rid of the cobwebs of the past clinging to the corners, maybe never really be able to shake the sense of wrongness that itched in the back of his mind, but he wanted to try. 

And he wanted to try with Wade. 

***