Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ch. 1: TABLE OF CONTENTS

Ch. 2: Prequel (how Logan & Wade got together)

Ch. 3: Puppy Logan has fun with Wade at the mansion

Ch. 4: Logan tops

Ch. 5: Hank's gift

Ch. 6: Eevee Scene

Ch. 7: Collar Conversation

Ch. 8: Wade & Logan's first time

Ch. 9: Body Worship

Ch. 10: Cock warming

Ch. 11 & 12: bratty puppy Logan pt. 1 & pt. 2

Ch. 13: Wade makes Logan's engagement tag

Ch. 14: Lingerie

Ch. 15: Semi-Public

Ch. 16: Logan panics during sex & uses his safeword for the first time

ch. 17: Logan is triggered by open water

ch. 18: Logan gets overstimulated from noise and Wade can't/doesn't know how to help

Ch. 19: Hank lets his wild side out with Puppy Lo's help

Chapter Text

“What’s wrong, Wolvie? Where ya going?” 

He’s met with silence, nothing but the tremor of Logan’s hands as he paces toward the door. 

“ Lo ?” 

And oh, ‘Lo’ is new, isn’t it? Logan can’t recall Wade having called him that in the Void. It’s a new endearment, because of course that’s what it is, with the way Wade’s mouth curls so sweetly as he says it, the way his tone softens around it. It’s something so little, just a shortened version of his name, but it stops Logan dead in his tracks, trembling hand clutching the door knob. It holds the weight of domesticity, the implications of their little bubble they’ve managed to create together since Wade brought him home a month ago. ‘Lo’ feels like a promise, like proof that Logan is lovable outside of the yellow, and the claws, and the cowl. He gets to be ‘Lo’ within the walls of their apartment; Wade dubbed him so, stripped him down to his bare essentials and still found affection for what he saw. 

Logan feels his knees want to buckle, he braces his other hand flat on the door in front of him. Fuck . 

“Wade…” the word cracks and crumbles in his dry throat. He swallows, ducking his head. “Wade.” 

“C’mere, Lo, please? Just… just come sit back down? Why don’t we drink here tonight, watch a movie? I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I can keep my hands to myself, though, I swear.” Wade’s painfully earnest, raw and made honest in a way that Logan swears is something that only he gets to see. Wade’s never been so vulnerable when it’s not just the two of them. The apology doesn’t sit right with Logan — Wade hasn't done anything wrong or unwanted, they’d just been sitting together on the couch, knees brushing pleasantly but suddenly Logan was struck with such a strong sense of belonging and contentment that it sent him running for the door. 

“I don’t want you to.” Logan closes his eyes, braces for the rejection that should happen, that he’s used to happening. “I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself, Wade.” 

When he turns to look at the other, Logan thinks maybe he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Wade stands stock still, slack jawed and misty eyed. He looks at Logan like he just gutted him with his claws — but that hasn’t happened in a long while. Abruptly, Wade grabs the baby knife that had been living on the end table by the couch, gripping the blade in his palm. The double edge cuts him, shallowly, but enough for bright red blood to drip from his hand before it heals. 

Logan yelps like he’s the one cut, skin flayed and torn, he flings himself at Wade reaching for his injured hand to cradle against his chest. The knife clatters to the hardwood below their feet. “Wade, what— what just happened?” He has the strange, animal urge to bring Wade’s palm to his mouth, to lick the blood off, make sure he’s clean and whole again. Instead, he curls the fingers of his hand around Wade’s, brings them up to his face and brushes his lips across the scarred skin on the back of Wade’s hand. “Why’d you do that?” 

Wade’s eyes are impossibly wide, damp with unshed tears, but sparkling like hope and starlight. “Thought I was hallucinating.” He says roughly, a contrast to the softness of his eyes. “Why were you trying to run away earlier?” 

Come on, Logan, you can do this , he thinks to himself. He’s given you everything he can already, you can give him the truth . 

A quieter, smaller voice inside his head says, this finally feels safe . 

“I… I just got, um, overwhelmed. Knee jerk reaction. But I don’t want to be like that, anymore.” He’s leaning into Wade as he speaks, pulled into his orbit. Their faces are much closer than when they started the conversation. 

“I still don’t know what I did to overwhelm you, I’m sorry — both for doing it and not knowing what I even did. Can you try to tell me?” Wade’s got him trapped, ensnared in his eyes. It’s funny, Logan thinks, he expected Wade to be watching his mouth, or making some comment about how they’ve shuffled so close, but he doesn’t. His eyes never leave Logan’s, seeking and searching. 

“Not all that used to being taken care of. Makes me jumpy sometimes, I guess. But you make it … easier to stay put.” 

“Logan, please tell me this is real right now. And it’s going where I think it’s going.” 

“S’real. M’right here.” He squeezes Wade’s hand in his, brushing another kiss without thinking about it. “I want it, I want you. If you’ve been serious, and I think you have, but—“ 

“Serious as a fucking heart-attack, honey badger. God, I fucking want you, too, Logan, please.”  Wade pulls his hand away from Logan’s now, wipes the blood off on his shirt before cupping Logan’s face in scarred palms. He thumbs at Logan’s beard, just holding him, waiting for Logan to make the first move. 

And he does. 

Logan tips his head, brushes his nose against Wade’s before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. He grabs at Wade’s waist, pulls him into his body, clutching him close. Wade gasps against his mouth before kissing back, nipping softly at Logan’s bottom lip. Logan will deny the whine he lets out as he opens up for Wade’s tongue until he’s dead, probably, but fuck if it isn’t one of the best kisses he’s ever had. 

Wade pulls back first, running his hands through Logan’s hair before resting them on his shoulders. “Finders keepers,” he giggles into the space between them. “Oh my god, I’m gonna keep you forever, Lo, you have no idea. Can I kiss you again, baby? Please? I don’t ever wanna stop, let’s go for a world record, okay? Longest kiss ever. C’mere gimme those pretty lips.” 

He babbles, gently pushing Logan to sit back on the couch, all high energy and excitement, like he’d just been waiting for this moment. Waiting to finally have this. Like a dog released from their holding position. 

Logan is flushed, relief coursing through him. He’d known that Wade had been serious, had meant what he said about Logan, but he couldn’t really completely shake the nagging voice that told him he wasn’t allowed to have good things. Didn’t deserve them. That Wade would realize just who he let into his home, how horrible Logan truly was, and rightfully kick him out. 

“Hey, sweetheart? Where’d ya go? Are you okay? We don’t have to keep kissing if you don’t want, we can just cuddle or—“ Wade’s pulled back, sitting in the middle cushion next to Logan on the couch. Frown lines crease his mouth and his forehead. Logan aches at having put them there. 

“N-Nono. No, I want— I want that. I’m sorry. I just, god I really sort of thought you’d reject me.” 

“Reject you, baby? Never. You’re my favorite, my best Wolverine. Could never ever reject you.” Wade’s shaking his head, beaming at him, so soft and warm and bright. Logan thinks he’s become his sun, his center, but the thought doesn’t scare him as much as it might’ve, because it’s Wade, and if Logan knows one thing in this new universe, it’s that Wade is safe. 

Logan doesn’t remember the exact point in their adventure together when he and Wade stopped fighting each other and started fighting for each other, but that didn’t necessarily stop after the Void. Wade brought Logan home and continued to prioritize and protect him as if it were second nature, a natural thing. When Logan’s overwhelmed or upset, Wade’s there to deflect, redirect. A too loud noise that startles Logan gets him shushed gently, a hand rubbing across his shoulder blades. His social battery hitting its limit means Wade sticking to his side like glue to volley questions and comments that Logan can’t answer. 

He settles Logan so smoothly, so easily that half of the time, Logan doesn’t even realize he’d needed it. It’s a delicate balance, and Wade’s an expert at not raising Logan’s hackles; doesn’t even bring attention to the fact that Logan needed soothed in the first place. Normally being so attended to would set Logan off, insult him, but moments simply pass, Wade comes and goes, leaving Logan feeling revitalized and recentered. 

Wade’s still looking at him with that soft, hesitant look and Logan can’t have that, needs Wade to know he can be sure of this, certain of Logan . He pounces on him, pins him down on the worn couch cushions, kissing all over Wade’s scarred face to make him laugh. He maps the ridges and divots with his lips, memorizes their topography on his heart. Repeating like a mantra in his mind, mine, mine, mine . I want this. I can have this . 

Logan feels light for the first time in decades, knowing that things could be different here in this universe, all because this universe has Wade in it.

Chapter Text

Wade hadn’t meant to start anything, he really didn’t. It wasn’t his fault the way things ended up. 

He was just messing with Logan after an obnoxious training session the two of them had attended in the early afternoon at the mansion. It had ended tensely, Scott had made a few remarks about Logan’s more animalistic fighting style compared to the other Logan from this universe and Wade could tell it got under his Logan’s skin. 

Wanting to ease the tension, Wade had started to dote on Logan after they changed back into civilian clothes. He fussed and fixed Logan’s flannel collar, ruffling his kitty ears and scrubbing his cheeks with his knuckles, general things that Wade knew only he had the privilege of doing to Logan. Wade went to put Logan’s dog tags back on his neck, jingling the pair to adjust them on the chain before opening the clasp. Logan liked for Wade to keep them on his person if Logan wore them to the mansion and had to change into his suit. It gave him a warm feeling to know Wade kept them close in a hidden pocket of his suit next to his heart. 

The tags clink pleasantly as Wade shakes them out to straighten the chain, catching the light and drawing Logan’s eye. He tilts his head at the sound and sight, and Wade pauses. There’s a specific glint in Logan’s wide eyes, and he’s leaning into Wade’s space eagerly. 

Logan’s lips part prettily on an excited inhale. 

Wade gasps delightedly, the sound further spurring on Logan’s excitement building in his chest. “Oh my god, baby,” he whispers in hushed awe. “Is that my pretty puppy I see trying to come out and play?” Adrenaline and exercise often had the effect of bringing Logan’s instincts to the forefront, though he typically kept his puppy nature away from the mansion. 

He wiggles Logan’s dog tags chain in emphasis, noting the way his eyes track the movement closely. They jingle enticingly in the air. Logan wants to fight it, he can’t drop here — now — can he? They’re at the mansion of all places… Logan’s never done that here before, never done it anywhere but within the safety of their apartment. But Wade’s here, he’d never let anything bad happen, and he’s teasing him now in the best way, voice so soft and sweet like it always is when Logan’s his puppy. It makes the decision to sink into his instincts easier, not much of a choice at all when Wade looks at him with that face that tells Logan he’s perfect the way he is. Logan knows he could tell Wade to stop, cut it out and the other would back off instantly, help draw him from the brink of his headspace and they’d go home like planned. But training had frustrated him and he wants to forget about it if he can. 

Wade grins wider at the hazy, content look in Logan’s eyes — they never dim when he’s a puppy, in fact they get lighter, bright with happiness despite the dazed, distant element in them that lets Wade know he’s got to tend a little more closely to Logan’s needs. Guide him with a bit more firm of a hand if he strays. 

“You want your tags, pretty baby? Huh?” Wade grabs them up, clutching the whole of them in his palm, hidden within his hand and Logan startles a little at the motion. “Come get ‘em.” 

They’re the only two left in the locker room in the basement — Wade always makes sure to drag his feet getting changed to give Logan some time to calm down after training and being around the other X-Men; they’re allowed to linger because of Logan, the others (mostly Scott and Jean) trust him more than Wade so he’s given special permissions. The others had filtered out to prepare for study groups or grading or lab work. Wade makes the split decision to push Logan further, he widens his stance into a mock fighting position, shaking the chains in his hands, and then he books it, taking off in a sprint to the elevator around the hallway. 

Logan whines behind him, frantic and a little caught off guard, thoughts slowing down in his headspace. Why’s Wade running from him? Did he do something wrong? Then he hears the metallic clink of his tags, and Wade calling after him. “You comin’ or what, puppy baby? Bet you can’t catch me!” 

And oh, Logan gets it now, they’re just playing a game! He loves games with Wade. He bounds after him, running on all fours down the hallway after him — he’s a little too slow, though, the elevator door closes with Wade inside before he can reach him. Logan growls at it, bowing low in a threat before remembering the stairway. He races to it, scaling the steps expertly before sliding to a stop outside the elevator door. 

He sits back on his haunches, wiggling his hips excitedly — he knows he beat Wade to the ground level, can smell him making his way up the elevator shaft. The door opens and Logan pounces as soon as Wade steps across the threshold, jumping up at his outstretched hand, holding the tags above his head out of Logan’s reach. He whines, pawing at Wade’s chest imploringly. “Ah, ah. That’s cheating, baby, you gotta beat me to get your tags back. Can’t just cute your way into me giving them to you.” 

Logan sits back down, puppy eyes in full effect, wide and sweet, begging like a good boy. This always gets him what he wants. Something catches Wade’s attention over Logan’s head, though, causing him to pout. 

“Look, sweetheart, it’s baby badger!” Logan whirls, and sure enough, there’s Laura, walking over to the two of them with a wide smile on her face. She drops to her knees to hug Logan from his spot on the floor. He chuffs in her ear happily. 

“How was training today?” She sits next to Logan, looking up at Wade for an answer, knowing Logan won’t be talking for a while. 

Wade shakes his head, “Boring, but we’re playing a game now, you want in mini Wolvie? Logan’s gotta catch me to get his dog tags back.” Wade drops the chain from his palm, dangling them from his fingertip. Logan whines at the sight of them just out of reach. 

Laura laughs, “Sure, any chance to beat your ass.” 

Wade grins, “as if !” 

And then he’s off again, running through the halls of the mansion with two Wolverines on his tail. He dips around corners, sliding across empty tables, and ducking under entryways to fake them out. 

Okay, maybe the tables were suddenly empty after Wade slid across them. But again, not his fault. And besides, nothings broken after it clatters to the ground in his wake. 

Wade giggles in delight as he breezes past Jean Grey’s baffled look, laughing harder when she nearly falls over at the sight of Logan running after him. She calls Logan’s name incredulously, but Logan only cares about one thing right now — chasing after his mate. 

Eventually, Wade makes his way outside using the back door to the spacious grounds of the place. He hears Laura interject to Ellie and Yukio who they had passed on their way out. 

“Wade’s it! Get him!” She shouts at their puzzled looks. The girls shrug, looking at each other for a brief moment before joining the chase. 

“Oh fuck,” Wade gasps under his breath. Now he’s got four people after him and he’s running out of steam. Running through the garden is both easier and harder. The free space gives him more room to maneuver with less worry about wrecking anything, but he’s also constantly within Logan’s sights, who’s honed in on Wade with all his puppy determination. He scales fences with a comedic yelp, trying to keep just out of reach of Logan. Ellie, Yukio, and Laura have all split off in three directions, hoping to cut Wade off. Logan takes a much more direct route, simply chasing after Wade’s heels and scent. 

Logan is having the time of his life — this is the most fun he’s ever had at the mansion. Really, he didn’t think he could ever have a decent time at the mansion, but leave it to Wade to find a way to give it to him. Running around the yard after Wade is so freeing and exciting. After Laura joined, Logan’s happiness doubled, both members of his pack sharing in his playful fun. He’s chuffing and whining on every inhale, racing after Wade on all fours. He jumps over a bush to cut Wade off but the merc was expecting this move, knowing Logan as well as he does. Wade had backpedaled, circling a loop and running back in the direction of the trees at the edge of the grounds. 

Before Logan can course correct, his path is blocked by a pair of long legs in black slacks. He stumbles into a sitting position landing on his ass, not wanting to bowl anyone over that isn’t Wade and looks up expectantly to see who’s in his way. Wide, happy puppy eyes meet the red ruby-quartz of Scott Summer’s casual glasses. There’s a concerned frown on the other’s face. 

“Logan, are you alright?” 

Logan tilts his head, considering Scott’s question a dumb one. Why wouldn’t he be alright? He's actually way more than alright right now. He’s playing with Wade, burning off excess energy in a way that nothing else really can. He knows the nap he’s gonna take after this is going to feel so good with Wade holding him and petting his hair so he stays asleep. Logan chuffs in answer, grinning widely at Scott. He’s just a puppy right now, no space in his little puppy brain to hold a grudge, especially not from so long ago like this morning. 

“Did something happen? Is Wade around?” Scott whips his head back and forth, scanning the grounds for the merc. 

Logan perks up at the mention of Wade, remembering their game. He whines softly, an apology to Scott for having to go, but he really does need to find Wade now! He’s not gonna lose this game, he can smell Wade’s trail and knows exactly where to go to find him. 

Laura, Ellie, and Yukio have all tapped out, the latter two not possessing the mutational strength and stamina to keep up with Wade, and Laura simply wanting to watch. They sit in the grass, cheering Logan on when he races past them, in hot pursuit. He zigs and zags in the same movement Wade had run previously, on purpose to spread his scent in a confusing manner. 

Eventually the distance closes between them, Wade can hear Logan’s feet falls behind him. “Hi, puppy baby! Knew you’d find me, you’re so smart.”  

He skids to a stop by the tree line, squaring off against Logan, facing him now. They circle each other, Logan slinking low in a prowl, but his hips wiggle endearingly. Wade can’t help but stifle a giggle at Logan’s growling purr. He’s trying to bare his fangs in intimidation, too, but his mouth skews more toward a grin than a snarl. “You gonna get me, puppy? Yeah? You’re so close to winning, aren’t you?” 

Logan pounces, tackling Wade to the grass, pinning his shoulders with his hands. His claws safely tucked away — of course they are, he doesn’t have anything to defend against, not when Wade’s with him. So close and warm and happy. Wade’s no threat. 

Wade gasps, giggling as Logan licks at his face and neck. He goes limp under Logan’s weight, signaling his defeat as Logan whines happily. Eventually Logan remembers his tags, still clutched tightly in Wade’s hand and sniffs them out. He nips insistently at Wade’s fingers to get him to loosen his hold. Gnawing playfully with his fangs. 

“Okay, okay. You win, puppy baby! Yay! You got me!” Wade chuckles, sitting up but keeping Logan in his lap. “Here, here’s your prize, sweetheart.” He fixes the necklace onto Logan’s neck, adjusting the chain so the clasp sits in the back and his tags rest in their rightful spot on his chest. Logan squirms, preening under the attention, and licks a puppy kiss to Wade’s nose in thanks. 

Wade pets through his hair, sharing Logan’s happiness, but he’s a little concerned when he realizes Logan’s out of breath, panting excitedly still. “Easy, baby, deep breaths for me, okay?” He forgot Logan can’t really pace himself when he’s under his instincts' influence, easily getting overexcited. 

Logan nods his head, trying to calm down. He chuffs intermittently still, though it’s quiet in his throat. Wade kisses his cheeks. “Good boy. You wanna go back inside? I think you could use some water, puppy.” 

Logan nods again, climbing off Wade’s lap, he moves around to cling onto his back, wanting a piggy back ride. He drapes his long arms over Wade’s shoulders, plastering himself to his back. Wade groans, standing up and adjusting Logan so he won’t fall off his back. “You’re so spoiled, puppy.” He teases, knowing it’s his life’s mission to make Logan even more spoiled. 

Logan purrs, nipping at Wade’s ear lovingly as he clutches his arms around the other’s neck. He’s sleepy and satisfied that he won, eyes drooping and head falling to rest against Wade’s as he’s carried back to the mansion. “Oh, baby, I know. You’re all tuckered out now, huh?” 

Wade waves at the girls as they pass them, still sitting on the lawn, relaxing in the sun. “Hi, Yukio! You can run really fast, that was impressive!” 

“Hi, Wade! Looks like Logan won!” Wade just grins in answer. 

Nah , he thinks, I won . 

Wade carries Logan into the kitchen, he perks up, licking at Wade’s ears and chuffing. “Don’t squirm, puppy, I’ll have to put you down.” 

But he sets him down, anyway, even after Logan stops shifting in his hold to get him a drink. Wade fills a glass at the faucet, cupping Logan’s chin to help him use it. Setting the empty cup aside in the sink, Wade thinks a quick apology to the poor bastard on dish duty this week, before picking Logan back up. “Good boy, you wanna go home now? Or stay around here until you’re back to usual?” 

Logan doesn’t really answer, just cuddles close to Wade’s chest, resting his head on the merc’s shoulder. Wade peppers kisses across his forehead, swaying gently. “I think you’re all puppy spaced out, my love. Not gonna be makin’ any decisions for a while, huh?” 

The door to the kitchen opens, Jean and Scott entering, engrossed in a conversation, seemingly about Wade and Logan. 

“— think he makes him do it? Like some kinda sex— oh. Hello, Deadpool.” 

Logan whines low, burying his face in Wade’s neck, the tension in the room palpable, even to his puppy brain. Their arrival makes Wade’s decision for him. 

“Hi, Logan and I were just leaving. Training was great this morning, Summers. Real fun times.” It’s not worth the fight, plus, Scott’s stupid comments got them here with Logan all soft and content in Wade’s arms, right where he belongs. So it couldn’t have been all that bad, right? 

They make their way to Logan’s truck, Wade thinking about all the ways he’s going to continue to spoil his puppy for his impromptu puppy day when they get home. He drives them home with a smile on his face as Logan snores softly in the passenger seat, knowing he has something precious that no one else would ever really get.

Chapter Text

“Baby, can we… not next time maybe, but uh, another time? Do you think I could fuck you? If you want that. I know you said you’re uh, not a natural, but I’d be really good. Make you feel good, I promise.” 

Wade can’t help but laugh at how shy Logan’s acting. His bashful little honey badger. He’d take anything Wade gave him, beg for the nastiest things to be done to him, but asking to do something to Wade has his face all pink. “Mm, we can do that, yeah. Know my little puppy’d fuck me so good.” 

–

They were gonna try it out tonight, they had the perfect opportunity for it. Althea was taking a weekend trip and Laura had an exam to study for so wouldn’t be coming for her usual stay, either. It was adorable and flattering how excited Wade could tell Logan was about it. He’d been extra clingy and touchy feely all day, using any excuse available to get his hands on Wade – which, admittedly, isn’t out of the ordinary, but it’s charged with something else knowing they’re going to try something new. 

It was only about thirty seconds after Althea bid them goodbye and the door was slammed shut that Logan pounced, practically jumping at Wade from the opposite end of the couch, but the other caught him easily against his body, anticipating his move already. Mouth hot and insistent, Logan kissed and sucked instantly-fading bruises into Wade’s neck. Wade moaned, fisting a hand in his hair, clutching at Logan’s shoulder. 

“C’mon, let’s go to bed, love.” Wade whispers into his ear, making Logan shiver, a high whine slipping from his throat. “Yeah? You still wanna fuck me, puppy?” 

“Yeah, I do,” he croaks, voice ragged and fucked out already just from the teasing of the day. 

Wade pushes him off gently, cupping Logan’s chin in his hand briefly as he stands and makes his way to the bedroom. He strips quickly, too keyed up to draw that part out, but Logan’s not gonna complain. Wade can hear him nearly panting in the doorway as he watches him undress. He smiles to himself, this is going to be so much fun. 

Logan shuts the door behind himself, throwing his clothes every which way as he struggles to catch up to Wade, he kneels at the end of their bed when he’s finished. The mattress dips at his weight, cock bobbing against his stomach with the motion. He’s so hard it almost hurts and Wade’s teasing him, tutting at him and picking up his clothes to put them in the laundry basket. 

Once finished cleaning up, Wade situates himself in the middle of their bed, makes a grab for the lube, “Do you want to–”

“I wanna do that!” Logan rushes to say, bouncing up on his knees, practically drooling at the opportunity to finger Wade. 

Wade laughs at him, softly, lightly, but it makes Logan click his teeth shut, blushing bright red. Embarrassed. 

“I mean… Can I open you up? Please?” He tries again, hoping to sound less desperate, but Wade reaches for him, looping an arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss. 

“Precious puppy,” he coos. “So fucking cute, sweetheart of course you can open me up. M’all yours.” He presses the lube into Logan’s hands, letting him go from his hold to splay himself out. 

Logan slick his fingers eagerly, whispering a hushed, “thank you, fuck.” as he settles between Wade’s spread legs. He’s so careful with him, gently easing his first finger in after circling his hole to spread the lube. 

“Not gonna break me, Lo,” Wade groans, flexing his hips down. “Gimme another one, baby.” 

Logan works him up to three delicately massaging his walls, making sure the stretch never burns for long. Wade drinks up his reverence greedily, every press of his fingers setting him his nerves on fire. Cock leaking a pool of precome on his stomach, Wade writhes on Logan’s fingers that have been brushing his prostate on every thrust. 

“Wade, please .” He begs, desperate, and pulls his fingers out, shuffling down to plant his feet on the floor. Wade follows readily, hanging his ass off the end of the bed, he hikes his legs up on Logan’s shoulders, lining his cock up with his hole. Logan shakes, holding himself back as he presses inside slowly. 

Their hips meet, eliciting a groan from each of them as Logan slides home the whole way.

“Fuuuck, that’s good. Good boy, Logan. Filling me so well. You’re so fucking big, baby, fuck.” Logan is big, Wade’s not just blowing smoke. He’s thick and long, pressing against Wade’s walls perfectly. 

If Logan thought Wade was talkative when he topped, it was nothing compared to Wade when he bottomed. Logan whimpers, wanting to move desperately but waiting for Wade’s cue that he was okay. The praise makes him weak, the tight heat of Wade further contributing to his undoing, making him hazy with need. 

“M’good, can move now, Lo.” 

He starts easy, the same reverence he fingered him open with, snapping his hips in a smooth rhythm. The glide is perfect, Wade’s loose and relaxed completely, feeling so good as he fucks him until Logan ducks his head, watching where they’re connected. 

“Come on, look at me, sweetheart, that’s it.” Logan’s eyes snap to Wade’s immediately. “Good boy. Need to see that pretty face.” 

Logan can only moan in response, moving his hips faster, harder. He finds Wade’s sweet spot automatically, nailing it with steady pressure, keeping the eye contact Wade likes. “God, right there, puppy, that’s the spot. Christ.” 

“Feel so good, Wade,” Logan whines, pathetic and close already. God. His hands clench the sheets right beside Wade’s head. Wade’s gonna ride this power trip for weeks . Logan’s hips stutter, mindlessly fucking into Wade, chasing his release. 

“You gonna come, angel baby? Wanna fill me up and claim me? Make me yours.” Wade purrs, clenching hard on purpose, relishing in taking Logan apart even as he’s the one on his back. 

Logan shakes his head, gritting his teeth. Fuck. He wants Wade to come first, wants to be good for him. Wade grins, determined to win. 

“You — fuck — that’s alright, honey, you just gotta keep fucking me after you come. You can do that for me, can’t you? Keep goin’?” Wade lolls his head back, stretching languidly as Logan hammers into him. The pleasure builds steadily, sparks running up and down his spine. He’s still leaking, wet and messy where his cock hits his stomach in time with Logan’s thrusts. 

The desperate sounds of Logan’s neediness fill the air, pairing with the slick sounds of skin on skin. He whimpers as he gets closer, making Wade’s head spin, the same pretty noises he makes when Wade takes him apart on his tongue. His words are long gone and Logan’s losing the fight, slamming into Wade hard and fast. The force of it pushes him up the bed, away from Logan who growls, hazy and fucked out, frustrated that Wade’s seemingly trying to get away from him. He grabs at Wade’s hips, pulling him back to meet his own harshly. 

Wade keens for it, arching nearly off the bed, loving how Logan’s taking what he wants. Wade really fucking likes being what Logan wants. His growl edges into a purr once he realizes Wade isn’t going anywhere, but he keeps his hands tight on Wade’s waist anyway. 

“Fuck,” Wade pants, still babbling despite being on the edge. “You’re perfect, so perfect for me. Can feel you’re so close, why don’t you let go, hm? I know you’ll just get hard right away again. Won’t even need to stop.” He reaches a hand up, cupping the nape of Logan’s neck to pull him down into a kiss. It nearly folds Wade in half, but the stretch is so good. It’s a dirty trick, knowing Logan falls apart from Wade’s kisses. 

He nips at Logan’s bottom lip, licking at the seam until he lets him in. Logan cries out into his mouth, shaking desperately as he pumps him full of his come. Wade licks at his teeth, grinning victoriously. “ Good fucking boy .” 

Wade’s right, of course, Logan’s hips never stop moving, cock not yet flagging. He reaches a hand between them to his own cock, coming himself at the first brush of scarred fingers. Wade makes a mess between their chests, painting them both with his release. Logan whimpers as he fucks him through it, no doubt feeling the way Wade clenches down, milking him with his walls. 

His legs fall from Logan’s shoulders, shifting down to his hips now. Wade digs a heel into the small of his back, spurring him on. “M’so needy puppy, c’mon. Give me another one, I know you can. I’m yours, aren’t I? Don’t you want everyone to know?” 

“ Mine .” Logan grits out, guttural and groaning, on edge again. Wade moans, turning his head to the side to bite at Logan’s forearm. He can’t do the same kind of damage that Logan’s fangs can, his own teeth too blunt for much impact, but it gets the job done. It’s an act of claiming and marking all the same to Logan. The bite tips him over the edge once more, spilling into Wade again. 

Wade gasps, releasing Logan’s arm at the wet warmth of him, feeling him coat his walls. His eyes roll back, his own second orgasm taking him by surprise, completely untouched this time. “ Logan .” 

The other barely holds himself up, nearly collapsing his whole weight onto Wade, panting and shaking in the afterglow. He pulls out slowly, watching hungrily as come drips from Wade’s hole. 

Wade expects it, but still yelps at the first pass of Logan’s tongue over his hole, fucked out and sensitive. “Fuck, baby. Good boy, clean up your mess you made.” And he does. 

Logan cleans him up with soft kitten licks, sucking gently at his hole to lap up his own come. It should be gross, but it nearly drives Wade to the edge again as Logan worships him. He mouths at Wade’s cock, swiping his tongue over the head to collect the last of his release, before moving his head further up to drag his tongue over Wade’s stomach, cleaning him there, too. Wade goes limp as he’s taken care of, worn out and content. 

When he’s done, Logan gently pulls them both up to the head of the bed, laying Wade out on his chest. He’s purring, deep and loud before they’re even settled completely, pressing kisses all over Wade’s face and head. He finds his words again, mumbling praises into Wade’s ear, “So beautiful, baby, thank you. Were so good for me, Wade. I love you.” 

It’s adorable, witnessing Logan use Wade’s own litany of praise and gentle aftercare, figuring that if it works on Logan it would work on Wade, too. 

“I love you, too, puppy.” Wade says before falling asleep pillowed on Logan’s chest.

Chapter Text

The basket had apparently just shown up — not with the regular mail, not on any sort of delivery truck. The entire mutant household was completely oblivious to a gift basket just happening to appear in Dr. Hank McCoy’s very much always on lockdown lab. 

But Hank knew who it was from without even opening it. 

For one, the tissue paper was red and black and the basket itself was highlighter yellow with blue accents. It didn’t take Hank’s genius IQ to infer what those colors meant. 

He sighed to himself, a little wary, but open minded as he locked the lab door behind him, just in case any student or colleague may wander down here in need of assistance while he unwrapped the gift. Hank picked the basket up gently, gave it a little shake. It wasn’t all that heavy but he could hear the tinkling and rattling of glass inside. Huh. 

Well, curiosity killed the Beast and all that or whatever, but satisfaction would hopefully bring him back. He began unwrapping the basket carefully. 

“Oh my stars and garters.” 

The first gift on top was an absolutely ridiculously sized box of XXL condoms which Beast merely huffed at — embarrassed — and set them aside. 

The second gift was a calendar for the next year complete with 12, old fashioned pinup style photographs of Wade himself. Flipping through the calendar (there’s that curiosity that’s going to kill him, again) revealed a watermark on each image stating “photo creds to Dopinder”. His mask was on in each photo but his outfits for every month were startlingly elaborate and, as Hank looked closer, maybe homemade? 

A small comment on the back revealed that this was a limited run, for only the very best of Wade Wilson’s friends. Hank was oddly touched. 

The third gift, the one that rattled when he shook it, was a new set of test tubes complete with a stand and corks. The stand was engraved, “Property of Dr. Henry McCoy” in scrawling script. Beast displayed those proudly on his corner desk in the lab. 

The final gift had Hank’s eyes misting over — tucked carefully inside the bottom of the basket, wrapped neatly in red and black tissue paper was a signed, limited edition copy of Animal Farm . It was his favorite book, the one he’d read during his stay in prison. The book was genuine leather and fully illustrated, housed inside a firm case for protection. A note tucked in the pages like a bookmark read: 

Thank you for coming to check on Logan, you’re a very good friend Dr. McCoy. 

Hope you have fun with these gifts ;) just a little something for the man and the animal in you! 

Don’t be a stranger, 

WWW

It’s weirdly touching and comforting – if anyone else had made similar remarks to Hank he would've been indignant, but something about Wade Wilson made him feel okay about it. After seeing him with Logan, how adoring and accepting he was about him, it made Hank feel just a little bit better about his own struggles.  

Logan picked a very good mate.

Chapter Text

“Lo, baby what’s this?” Wade asks in confusion, digging through one of the grocery bags Logan had brought home. 

Oh, damn. Logan had misplaced the bag with Wade’s surprise in it, he wasn’t supposed to find it yet. He’d hidden the gift among the vegetables he’d bought, knowing Wade would be disinterested and make Logan unpack that one. But Wade had sniffed it out apparently, using his sixth sense about things that had to do with himself. 

Logan scratches anxiously at his beard, putting a six pack in the fridge. “Uh, that’s for you. I saw it and remembered the game you play with the little guys like that. And I liked that one.” 

Wade grabs the Eevee plush with slightly shaky hands, pulling the stuffed animal gently out of the bag. He’s quiet, too quiet for Logan’s liking. 

Logan’s stomach twists, nervous. 

“If he’s not right or not even from that game I can take him back or somethin’. Or Mary can use it as a chew toy—“ 

“What made you pick this one?” Wade asks quietly, cutting off Logan’s anxious ramble. 

Wade knows why, at least he thinks he does, but he wants Logan to admit it. He’s seen the little collection of plushies at the store, Logan could’ve picked any one of them. 

Logan had found him playing Pokémon on the Switch just last week after they’d come back from a mercenary gig. Freshly showered and out of his suit, Wade had sprawled himself out on the couch to unwind. Logan had quietly settled down with him, lying with his back against Wade’s chest, their legs tangled and stretched out. Wade wrapped his arms around Logan, resting the controller across his stomach and talked his ear off about his favorite Pokémon (Logan just kept calling them “little guys”). This kind of casual intimacy wasn’t new for them, but Logan was still a little jumpier than usual, took longer to wind down since The Incident™️. But he relaxed against Wade that night easily, like it was before anyone had ever interrupted their peace. 

When Wade showed him Eevee Logan had laughed perking up adorably at the TV screen. “He looks like you!” 

“Yeah, peanut that’s my character I made him.” Wade had been confused, he’d shown Logan his avatar first, even cycled through a few outfits just for shits and giggles to be silly. 

“No, Wade, the little guy. He’s cute with those big brown eyes. And his fluff kinda looks like a hoodie you wear.” 

Wade hadn’t said anything back in that moment, too choked up to really get any words out. He’d just kissed the top of Logan’s head, right between his kitty ears and showed him that they could play fetch with the “little guys” if Logan wanted. 

Here, though, now in their kitchen unpacking groceries, Wade wants to hear it again. Make sure it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. 

Logan’s cheeks are turning a delightful shade of pink and he won’t make eye contact with Wade. “Reminds me of you. ‘Cause of your pretty brown eyes and— and your sweet face and you have that hoodie that’s real fuzzy-like…” 

Holy fuck he said it again. Wade hadn’t imagined it the first time. 

Logan shuffles his boot awkwardly on the kitchen tile, still looking anywhere at Wade when he trails off. But suddenly Wade’s there, all over him, in his arms. Eevee plush set very carefully on the table with the rest of the groceries. 

“No! He’s perfect! I love him, I love you . Thank you, sweetheart, it was so nice of you to get him for me. He’s one of my favorites, you remembered.” Wade tugs him close, arms winding around Logan’s neck. He pecks sweetly at his mouth, smiling against Logan’s soft lips. 

Logan’s chest rumbles as he holds Wade snug, accepting his kisses eagerly. 

“Oh, peanut, you think I’m cute ?” Wade teases when they part. Logan chases his mouth with his own, not ready to stop kissing him. 

“I do,” he says, eyes on Wade’s lips, shameless. “Real cute.” 

One of the things that surprised Wade probably the most after they’d gotten together was just how sweet and honest Logan could be when he was in the right mood. He’s never been mean to Wade — not since their mutual fight in the Void had thoroughly worked out their tension at each other’s actions, throwing insults that were mostly directed at themselves . But sometimes Logan’s just quieter about things unless he’s in his softer mood. Words stick in his throat. Physical touch does a lot of talking for Logan. And now, Wade is learning, so does gift giving. 

Hearing Logan call him cute ( real cute a little voice inside his head reminds him) made butterflies erupt in Wade’s stomach. He giggles, walking the two of them backwards until Logan’s backside hits the edge of the counter by the sink. Wade could swoon at the groan Logan lets out, voice ragged and rough. Worked up already just from a few kisses and Wade’s wandering hands.

He trails his fingers lightly up the front of Logan’s shirt, traces the hair on his stomach up, up, up to his perfect fucking tits. Wade crowds him, dips his head to bite at his ear and whispers sweetly, “you want somethin’, baby? Can I take care of you?” 

Logan bites at his own lip, gripping the countertop hard , he stifles a whine. “If you want.” 

Wade grins, presses their hips together to feel the outline of Logan’s rapidly hardening cock. “Always want you, honey badger — gonna need a real yes, though.” He tweaks Logan’s nipple under his shirt, bringing his other hand down to toy with the button of his jeans. Won’t go any further, though until Logan gives him the go ahead. 

“Yeah. Yes. Want you to touch me, please.” 

He gropes at the front of Logan’s pants, rubbing his palm over the bulge there. Logan ruts into his hand, claiming Wade’s mouth with his own, lips so soft and sweet. Wade kisses him messily for a moment before pulling back with a smirk, dropping to his knees on the tile. 

“Fuck,” Logan whispers. He fumbles with his belt, undoing his jeans and showing them down his thighs. His cock bobs in front of Wade, flushed a pretty pink and leaking at the tip. Wade laps at him eagerly, holding him at the base, he tongues along the vein running his length before sucking at the head, locking eyes with Logan. “ Wade ,” he whines. 

Wade pulls off with a light pop, licking the taste of Logan off his lips. “So pretty for me, baby.” 

He stops teasing this time, taking Logan to the base in one go, nose pressed against the soft skin of his lower belly. He hums, the vibration driving Logan crazy. Wade works him expertly, bobbing his head in an easy rhythm, taking full advantage of his lack of a gag reflex. 

Logan shudders and shakes apart above him, still gripping the countertop like a vice. Wade’s honestly surprised it hasn’t crumbled in his hands yet.

“ Hah , Wade, m’close.” Logan moans, throwing his head back to knock against the upper cabinets with a thunk. “Please?” 

Wade grips his hips, strokes his thumb lovingly over the ridge of muscle there. He sucks harder, hollowing his cheeks and taking Logan even deeper. He feels Logan’s hands cup his jaw, hold his head gently. The fingertips of his left hand trail down to Wade’s throat, feeling the way he’s stretched around Logan’s length. Wade swallows once, twice, and it sets Logan off. He comes down his throat with a breathy whimper, hips stuttering and abdomen tensing. 

Wade sucks him down greedily, licking him clean when he’s done. He pulls off a final time, and Logan helps him stand on slightly shaky knees. Always a gentleman. Logan pulls him into his chest, purring. 

“So fucking good at that, Christ.” 

“Well they don’t call me the blowjob Queen for nothin’, honey badger.” 

The comment gets the poor little Eevee plush chucked at him, but Wade thinks it was worth it.

Chapter Text

The animal comments should get to him, really. And if they weren’t from Wade he’d have probably shut them down immediately, but every time the other calls his hair kitty ears or says he’s his honey badger, Logan can’t help but feel warmth bloom in his chest. 

The way Wade says these things like they’re okay, like he likes them about Logan feels so good. Feels like love and acceptance for things that Logan’s only ever been told to hide from anyone else before. 

He’s in Wade’s lap the first time he calls him “puppy”, straddling the merc’s thick thighs as they lazily make out like Logan’s not 200 years old. But Wade makes him soft again, needy and sweet and wanting for the first time in so fucking long. 

Wade grabs at Logan’s hips and ass, greedy handfuls, pulling Logan into a slow, dirty grind on his thigh. He moans into Wade’s mouth, picking up the movement naturally. 

“Fuck, that’s a good puppy.” 

Logan goes stock still, freezing completely in Wade’s hold. He doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said, yet, hazy from Logan’s lips and the feel of his weight in his lap. Wade mouths across his jawline, nipping that soft spot behind his ear before Logan’s stiffness seems to register. 

“Sweetheart? You alright?” He pulls back to look Logan in the eye, scan over his face to see what’s wrong. 

“C-called me ‘puppy’.” He whispers. 

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. It kinda slipped out, but I won’t do it again if you don’t like it.” Wade’s hands tighten, squeezing in sincerity. 

Logan suppresses a whine, face heating. He shakes his head ‘no’. 

Wade takes his chin in a gentle hold, thumb brushing scratchy facial hair. “Gotta use your words for me, baby. Please?” 

He closes his eyes, nose scrunching, “I liked it. A lot, actually.” 

When he opens them, Wade’s beaming at him, a certain glint in his eyes that has heat coursing through Logan’s veins. 

“Yeah? You wanna be my pretty puppy?” 

When they have sex later, the endearment makes Logan cry out, clenching around Wade in ecstatic pleasure, unable to fight the feeling of right and good the term brings. 

—

The puppy comments stick around, filling Logan with a special kind of warmth every time the new nickname pops up, amping up in intensity as time goes on. 

He’s sprawled across Wade’s stomach in their bed one night, pleasantly fucked out and sleepy. Content in ways he hadn’t thought possible anymore as Wade’s fingers dance across his neck softly. Once again, if it were anyone else so close to such a vulnerable spot, Logan would have shredded them with his claws, but because it’s Wade he simply purrs at the feeling of being handled so lovingly. 

“You know,” the merc starts quietly. “Pretty puppies usually have collars. Let people know they’ve got homes to come back to. People who’d miss them if they’re gone.” 

Oh.  

Logan sits upright with a jolt. “You wanna put a collar on me?” 

Wade traces Logan’s collarbones, fingers dipping into the hollow of his throat, “Only if you want that, too.”

“I want. I wanna be yours, your puppy.”  He falls forward into Wade’s space, caging the other in. Wade draws him nearer, kissing all over his face and looping his arms over Logan’s broad shoulders. “But I want, um, I want you to pick it out? If that’s okay.” 

He’d be too embarrassed and not know where to begin with materials or designs. It’s best to leave it up to Wade. Especially if this is something Wade’s already been thinking about. 

It feels big, not like a spur of the moment thing; even though Wade had brought it up in a casual manner. Logan can tell it means something to him. It’s what makes it that much sweeter and easier to say yes to it, despite his slight embarrassment. 

Wade cups his face, kissing the small space between his eyebrows with cracked, warm lips. “When do you want it by, sweetheart?” 

It’s all on Logan’s terms, always. A fact that he’s still getting used to, being so involved and considered at every point in the relationship. But he trusts Wade. Completely and implicitly. Knows he’d never do anything Logan didn’t like. 

“Baby?” 

Logan ducks his head, hiding his face in Wade’s neck, making a home there, he pleads, “what if you surprised me with it? When— when you thought the time was right?” 

He wants to say ‘when you think I deserve it’ but knows that’s not the case. Wade wouldn’t have brought it up already if he didn’t think Logan was worthy of wearing his collar. He can practically feel it already, the sense of ownership enveloping him. But this time, instead of dread or cold fear, the thought of being kept comes with warmth. Wade’s safe and good; he smells and feels like Logan’s home. Something he’d been searching for without a map, but was somehow lucky enough to stumble upon anyways. 

Wait, that’s not quite right. Maybe it wasn’t luck. Because Wade found him, found Logan, through sheer force of will and determination. Chose him. And keeps choosing him every day. And Logan’s beyond grateful to be taken home that day. 

Wade smiles, Logan can feel it against his shoulder, teeth pressing lightly on his skin. “Sure thing, puppy. I’ll surprise you with it. Make it real special for my good boy. He deserves it.” 

Logan whines, happy and damn near glowing bright red in his face. He fights a wiggle building up in his hips, collapsing his weight onto Wade’s body, startling a laugh from the merc at the force of it. 

“I’ll take care of it, Lo. Just leave it all to me, puppy baby, I’ve got you.” 

He starts thinking of what to put on the tag immediately as Logan drifts off to sleep on his chest.

Chapter Text

Wade’s mouth was quickly becoming one of Logan’s favorite things — a surprise to both of them, in all honesty, but Logan couldn’t get enough of him since they’d started being physical with their affections. Even his voice, which had admittedly grated Logan in the Void, now comforts and culls him. 

He holds Wade against him now, the merc perched solidly in Logan’s lap, kissing him like the rent was due (which, it was, but that’s a different story). Logan fights a whimper, choking his noises down against Wade’s soft, scarred lips. Wade’s loud where Logan’s trying to be quiet, moaning sweet little “mhm”s and “oh”s into Logan’s eager mouth. 

They’ve been at it for a while now, taking full advantage of their first night alone since getting together. Logan had pulled Wade into his lap near instantly after Althea had bid them goodnight and left the apartment. He rumbles pleasantly in his chest, nipping his way across Wade’s jawline and down his neck. 

“God, that feels good,” Wade gasps, tightening his fingers in the little curls at the nape of Logan’s neck. He grinds his hips down, moaning louder at the feeling of Logan’s own hardness pressing against him. Logan makes that choked off noise again, muffled against Wade’s neck. 

“Peanut? You alright, sweetheart?”

“Uh huh,” Logan nods dumbly, skimming his hands over Wade’s sides, desperate to keep him where he is. He’s overwhelmed by Wade’s presence, the weight of him, solid and real in his lap, the smell and taste of him all around. 

He flinches a little, despite his enjoyment, when Wade’s mouth drifts to his neck. His shoulders lilt upwards, instinct calling him to protect himself — to not let anyone so close to somewhere so vulnerable. Wade takes his flinch without complaint or insult, just moves his mouth to Logan’s ear, moaning softly into it as he rocks his hips against Logan’s abdomen. 

Logan shudders before finally surrendering, rationalizing to himself that it’s Wade and he’s allowed to be vulnerable with him. He bares his throat shyly, leaning into Wade to show it off. It feels good when his lips attach to the sensitive skin, hot and gentle but insistent. 

His hips buck involuntarily, grinding himself against the curve of Wade’s ass where he’s made a home in Logan’s personal space like he owns it, and fuck, Logan thinks, he damn near already does. 

It’s then that Wade remembers that Logan usually stops them before they get too far ahead of themselves, wanting to take things slow. He pulls back lightly, cupping Logan’s face in his hands. “I got you all worked up, baby, I’m sorry. We can stop if you want.” 

That’s the last thing Logan wants right now. “Don’t— I don’t wanna stop.” He moves his hands down, kneading over Wade’s ass, encouraging him closer, to grind harder. His mouth finds the junction of Wade’s neck and shoulder once more, bared from the loose hem of the t-shirt Logan had accidentally stretched out the first time he borrowed it. 

Logan bites , finally whimpering there as Wade’s skin breaks, blood beading only to be licked away with soft sweeps of Logan’s tongue. Kissing the ache away. 

Shit , he’s done it again. Got violent and rough where he should be soft. He can’t help it, though, the animal in him wanting to sink its teeth in something warm and living. 

“F-fuck, m’sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Do that again. Lo, please. Please .” Wade begs, cards his fingers through Logan’s hair, tipping his own head to bare his neck; he guides Logan’s teeth back to where he wants them.

He bites harder, sinking sharp canines slowly as Wade cries out, going stiff in his hold. Logan laps up the blood this time, too, completely unaware of Wade’s ecstasy until the heady scent of him hits his sensitive nose and he feels the dampness of Wade’s release against his stomach. 

“ God . Fuck, baby.” Wade shifts, tipping Logan’s face up, gazing raptly at the blood — Wade’s blood — tinting his pretty lips. His pupils blow wide as he swipes his thumb across Logan’s bottom lip teasingly. “Gimme a minute and I’ll be ready to go again. But I can take care of you in the meantime, angel baby.” 

“Oh,” Logan breathes. “That was— you, um?” He blinks, caught off guard but oddly pleased, deep in his chest. “You can go again?” 

He’s never been with anyone who had his healing factor and the stamina that came with it; he was used to taking care of himself, anyway. But if Wade was offering, there was definitely something he wanted. 

“How about we go to the bedroom, baby?” Wade climbs off his lap, wincing slightly at the mess he’d made of himself, before making his way to their shared room. Logan’s slept in his bed every night since their first kiss, cuddled close and warm, but they hadn’t done anything else yet. 

Logan follows without a second thought, stripping as he goes, dumping his clothes left and right, uncaring. 

“C’mon,” he stretches out on their bed on his back, arms crossed behind his head, body on full display. “You gonna fuck me or what? Was it all talk, mouth?” It’s soft teasing, Wade can hear the way Logan calls him ‘mouth’ now like he calls Logan ‘baby’. And Wade’s observant enough to see the fissures in Logan’s veneer now, too. 

He’s tense and a little anxious. But Wade vows that he won’t be for long. 

“Fuck, no, baby I can walk the walk as well as I talk. Gonna make it so good for you.” Excitement thrums through Wade. Never in a million years did he ever think this was how Logan would want their first time to go. 

Logan’s mouth waters as Wade strips, each stretch of new skin revealed making his heart skip in his chest. Wade’s fucking pretty , an intoxicating combination of hard edges and soft curves in all the right places to drive Logan crazy with want. He’s hard again, bobbing long and thick between strong thighs; Logan can’t quite stifle the whine in his chest as his eyes track the movement. 

“D’you like fingers better? Or could I eat you out?” Wade asks with a wiggle of his brow bone, rifling through his dresser drawer for the long forgotten bottle of lube. It had been a long time since he’d been with anyone, and the depression of his last couple years had snuffed the last traces of his libido for a hot minute. 

Logan sits up on his elbows, head cocked to the side and an adorable, confused pout on his lips. “Um, I heal?” He doesn’t exactly understand why Wade was asking about that — wasn’t that the whole point of fucking someone with a healing factor? That had been the draw for a lot of Logan’s past partners. 

His legs are bent, knees nearly touching, sort of drawing in on himself, even though he doesn’t mean to be. Wade finds the lube, coming to kneel by Logan’s feet. He rubs a warm palm up his calf soothingly. 

“I know you heal, peanut. But I like to make sure it’ll feel good. Can I do that for you?” 

Logan feels a protest rise in his throat, but he clicks his teeth together, tamping it down. Wade’s face is soft and sweet and he hasn’t made any move forward, yet. Just waiting for Logan to decide. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Yeah? Thank you, baby, it’ll feel really good, I promise.” Wade makes quick work of slicking his fingers and settling between Logan’s spread legs. He climbs up his body, hovering over Logan to kiss across his nose and cheekbones. Logan catches his lips at the first press of his fingers against his hole, sighing contently at the satisfying stretch. 

“Fuck, that’s good, sweetheart, look at you. Are you gonna take my cock this well?” And oh , the way Logan trembles at his words. Fuck. He clutches Wade’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he rocks against his fingers. 

Nothing hurts when Wade finally enters him, propelling a purr from deep in Logan’s chest. 

“Wade,” he pants, “please.” 

And Wade would never deny his pretty baby anything when he asks so sweetly like that. 

He sets a steady pace, hitting Logan’s prostate with innate accuracy on every thrust, relishing the way Logan throws his head back against the pillows in pleasure. He’s perfect, fucking perfect and Wade’s gonna keep him here forever he’s already decided. This is where Logan belongs, pleasured out of his mind on Wade’s cock. He tells Logan this between gasping moans, nipping at his ear to punctuate the statement. “Never gonna get enough of this, baby. So good for me.” 

It’s good , but Wade thinks he can make it even better. He slows his hips, grinding into Logan easily before he stops completely, pulling out of him. 

“N-no— I’m sorry, wait. M’sorry,” Logan says, desperate hands on Wade’s back to entice him back. 

“Shh,” Wade shushes him gently. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m not going anywhere. You didn’t do anything wrong. God. Just wanted to see if you’d flip over for me? I wanna try something I think you’ll like.” 

Logan’s eyes widen but he complies, rolling over and shuffling up onto his knees, feeling a little more vulnerable and uneasy than he’d like. The feeling lasts just until Wade slips back inside easily, the angle hitting different and deeper. His hands map every inch of Logan’s sides and hips, warm and comforting as he drills into him hard enough to punch whines out of him on every exhale. 

It had been good before but this , with Wade’s hands unceasing in their exploration of him, Logan thinks he could die happy right here in their bed. 

Wade’s grip on his hips is possessive and self-assured, but Logan feels the softness, the affection and reverence underneath it. Like he’s grateful to be there, grateful that Logan’s his to claim. One of his hands trails a path up Logan’s spine to curl his fingers around the nape of his neck, holding him gently but firm, the tips of his fingers digging in just barely. It’s enough for Logan to keen at the implications; at the suppressed strength Wade’s hiding. 

“So fucking gorgeous, Lo.” His thumb sweeps the side of Logan’s neck delicately. 

Logan’s reply is muffled, mumbled into Wade’s pillow. “Mmfhh.” He’s never been called that with such aching sincerity. 

He rocks his hips back, fucking himself on Wade’s length, their hips meeting in a steady, simmering rhythm. The heat builds quickly and Wade knows he’s not going to last long, not with the tight heat of Logan’s body and the sweet little whimpers of need he keeps making, as if he’s surprised that it feels so good. 

But Wade’s nothing if not a gentleman. He grips Logan’s hips harder, pulling him up and snaking a hand under them to stroke his cock in time with his thrusts. Logan’s dripping, slick and hot and he shakes as Wade thumbs the sensitive spot near the head. 

“Fuck. M’gonna come,” he whines, turning his face and rubbing his cheek against Wade’s pillow, freeing his mouth so Wade can hear just how good he feels to be taken apart like this. 

Wade smirks. “That’s the goal here, peanut. Fuck. M’right there with ya. Where do you want it, baby?”

He growls at the question, as if there’s any other answer — he wants Wade to claim him, wants to be his completely. “Inside. Inside.” 

Logan comes first as Wade strokes him expertly, spilling hot and slick over Wade’s fingers with a reedy groan. 

“Good boy, that’s it. So pretty when you come. Christ.” The sight of Logan’s face, jaw dropped and eyes rolling as Wade makes him come is enough to spur Wade into his own orgasm. He dips low, covering Logan’s body with his own as he pumps him full of his come, biting at his shoulder to stifle his cry. 

Wade feels Logan’s purr through his back, answering it with a pleased hum of his own as he pulls out gently, gathering Logan into his arms as they roll onto their sides. Wade half thinks that Logan will protest, huff and fuss about being babied after but instead he shifts around to make himself comfortable.

“Are you a cuddly lil Wolvie after sex? Oh my god. This might actually be the best day of my life.” 

Logan growls, grumbling and huffing just like Wade thought, but he snuggles closer into Wade’s chest, tucking his nose into his neck. They stay like that for a while, Logan mapping Wade’s skin with his lips, content and purring. Eventually, Wade’s wandering hands, in their slow, eager insistence make heat rekindle low in Logan’s gut. For once, Logan doesn’t feel the need to deny himself this. 

“I wanna go again,” Logan purrs, pushing at Wade’s chest and propping himself up. 

Wade’s answering smile could put the sun to shame.

Chapter Text

They’re lying together in their bed on a lazy, quiet afternoon when Wade’s brain decides to ruin his own life. As it typically does. 

“Were you attracted to me at first? Like, in the Void?” The question falls out of his mouth before he can stop it. 

Logan’s pause makes his stomach clench and then fall out of his ass in quick succession. Fuck. Why did he fucking ask that? The moment had been perfect, one of those no-rush days where Logan hasn’t gotten dressed yet, instead choosing to lounge around in just a pair of Wade’s shorty shorts with stupid words printed on his perfect ass. 

But Logan was quicker than his anxiety could be, before he could open his mouth to put his foot in it, Logan clamped a large, warm palm over his mouth, pairing it with a slew of kisses to his cheeks and forehead to lessen the accidental sting of the impact. Metal bones and all of that. 

“Shush. Shh, please. Just lemme gather my thoughts before you spiral, okay? You caught me off guard, but I’m not gonna lie to you, or come up with some bullshit just to reassure you. Besides, the truth isn’t what you’re thinking and you deserve better than some stupid made up platitudes, alright?” 

He nods behind Logan’s hand, fighting the urge to lick his way out of this. 

“We were a little busy in the Void, weren’t we baby? I wasn’t really thinking about things like that. Your voice was attractive, sure, but you were saying obnoxious shit nearly the whole time,” Logan starts, eyes sparkling the way they always do when he teases at Wade. “And you were in the suit, so it wasn’t… I mean it was you, but you had your armor on. Hard to find someone authentically attractive when you know they’re hiding themselves. I was doing the same thing, though. I was in the suit, too.” 

Wade draws his brow together, silently imploring Logan to keep fucking going, because right now he doesn’t really know what the fuck he’s on about.

“But then, we got home and we got cleaned up and I realized I was so, so fucked as soon as I caught the way the light through these windows made your eyes go all golden, and saw the soft as fuck clothes you like to wear. When you became you, in those few hours before the party, I knew. You came out in sweatpants and no shirt to hand me clothes after my shower and I nearly fucking fell over—“

And here, Wade shoves his face away to argue, because he remembers that and yeah, Logan had done a crazy double take, but Wade had thought the whole time that it was shock and a little disgust. “I thought you—“ 

“I know what you thought . But I’m telling you what it was. You were still a little damp and pink from your own shower and it took everything in me not to fucking pounce on you and beg you to fuck me. I wanted to trace the fucking water droplets left on you with my fucking tongue,” Logan laughs at himself, shaking his head lightly. “But I figured that was a little bit rude and way too fucking forward, especially considering all the favors you were doing for me already.” 

“I already knew I couldn’t let you go. Hence the fucking steel door incident. But that was more general affection, I’d have taken having you in my life in any shape or form after that. I would’ve just been your friend if we’d lived and you got back together with Vanessa,” Logan finishes saying softly, a little sad at the thought, remembering how he initially thought he really didn’t have a chance with the merc. 

“I never knew.” 

Logan shrugs, sheepish suddenly. “Ya never asked, and then we got together and, well, I kinda just assumed you’d known that I pretty much instantly wanted you.” 

“Will you— will you tell me now?” Wade whispers, sounding frayed and slightly desperate, but he knows it’s okay. That if he falls apart Logan will patch him up. He has to know, though. Needs to hear the rest of it; everything Logan feels and thinks about him and his body. 

Logan smirks, eyes dark as a purr erupts in his chest. “I can do more than just tell you, darlin’. How about I show you? Can I do that for you?” 

Wade feels himself splintering already, “Fuck. Fuck, you can do whatever you want. Christ, Lo, please.” 

Logan hovers above Wade, skimming soft, unblemished hands down his sides, following the motion of Wade’s shivers. Where Wade’s healing kept him on the cusp of dying, just a hair's breadth from the precipice of decay, Logan’s preserved him in perfection, whole and brilliantly, blessedly alive. The contrast grated on Wade on his worst days, sometimes believing himself unworthy to touch and be touched by someone so unlike himself. But Logan never hesitates to reach for him, to relish in his scarred hands on sacred skin or to trace and memorize every part of Wade’s own topography. 

He starts slow, barely brushing his lips against the shell of Wade’s ear, he purrs, “you’re so beautiful, baby. Pretty face, pretty smile.” His lips move, grazing over Wade’s cheekbones, pressing at the corner of his mouth. “Cutest little nose.” This, Logan nips gently — a tease to make Wade crinkle it, which he does, proving Logan’s statement. 

Logan laughs gently at him, but Wade’s stunned into silence, wide-eyed and vulnerable as a baby deer, gazing at Logan like he’s got his heart in his hands. He clutches weakly at Logan’s shoulders as the other moves further down, mouthing at Wade’s collarbone and neck as he goes. “I love you. Every part of you.” 

The words burn like a brand in the middle of Wade’s chest. 

Logan settles his weight, straddling Wade’s waist for a moment to grab his wrists, pulling them up to his face to press tiny kisses into each of his fingertips. “I love these hands. Think about them all the time. How you can play me like a fuckin’ instrument with ‘em. Take me apart and put me back together like you do your guns. I love the way you move them when you talk, the way you have so much energy that it just has to have a place to go.” 

It’s the most Logan’s ever said at one time, Wade thinks, without him interrupting the other. It feels new and important; a tipping point. 

“And these arms? Fucking Christ. You put me in a headlock in the Void and I thought about it for the first entire three days we were home after that.” He runs his hands down from Wade’s wrists to caress over his forearms all the way up to his shoulders. “Couldn’t come up with a believable excuse for you to do it again, but goddamnit, I fuckin’ tried to.” 

Wade’s jaw goes slack, “R-really?” The attention’s making him dizzy, light headed with sharp, sweet pleasure. He strains against his shorts, erection twitching and pressing against Logan’s ass. Logan grins, shifting against him. 

“‘Course, baby. I mean it. Feels so good when you carry me in them, too. Like—,” he cuts himself off, pausing to think as his face goes pink. “Like nothing can hurt me when I’m there.” He whispers the last part like a confession. A secret between them. 

Before Wade can fall apart completely at the admission, Logan moves again to push Wade’s thighs open and settle between them. He kisses across Wade’s stomach, grinning at the way the other tenses and flexes his abdomen, knowing it tickles. Wade nearly bucks his hips completely off the bed, but Logan follows the motion to nip at his v-line in admonishment. “Relax, darlin’. I have you.” 

Wade shudders and fists the sheets, gasping lightly. “Logan, Logan .” 

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here,” he shuffles further down the bed, placing Wade’s thighs over his shoulders. He digs his fingers into the muscle there, lowering his mouth to lick a stripe over Wade’s clothed cock. 

The merc whimpers, fighting the urge to close his legs and crush Logan’s head, though the way Logan’s mouthing at his inner thighs now, Wade guesses that he wouldn’t mind if he suffocated between them. His purr rumbles through his lips, increasing the sensation of his scratchy facial hair. Wade scrabbles for purchase in Logan’s hair, running his fingers through tousled kitty-ear cowlicks encouragingly. Logan speaks again, confirming Wade’s suspicions, “And these fucking thighs, Wade. God. Want my mouth on them all the time. Want you to wrap them around my waist and never let me go. The way they look when you’re in your suit drives me insane.” 

“Y’know what my favorite part of you is, though, darlin’?” And Logan grins wide with all his sharp, dangerous teeth, tipping his head back into Wade’s hands. It’s a joke, they both know Logan isn’t superficial enough for it to be completely true, but it’s mind numbingly hot for Wade to pretend right now. Logan runs his hands down his thighs to tug down his shorts and free his aching, leaking cock, grin growing impossibly wider and more wicked. His eyes betray him, though, so full of love and warmth that Wade feels like he’s being bathed in sunlight. 

“So fucking perfect, Wade. Christ. Could spend forever with you filling me up. Like you were made for it, made for me.” Logan strokes him languidly, base to tip and spreads the precome beading at his tip. 

“Logan please, I’m— I’m already fucking close,” Wade whines pathetically, desperation coloring his words. 

“You can come whenever you need to, baby. I want you to feel good,” Logan says before sucking Wade’s cock into his mouth, taking him to the hilt in one go. Another difference between them, the way being in control doesn’t exactly come natural to Logan, how even now, with Wade in the palm of his hand, so completely at his mercy, he thinks of nothing but Wade doing whatever he wants. Wade likes to play with Logan sometimes, make him wait — listen— and be good for him and it drives Logan wild, but they’ve never played the other way. 

Wade stifles a cry, “Lo, angel baby —” he rolls his hips, pushing further into Logan’s mouth, hot and wet and perfect. Logan lets him fuck his mouth gently, rolling his eyes back and opening his throat he purrs , spiking electric heat up Wade’s spine. He drools, messy and ruinous, slobbering all over Wade in his enthusiasm to tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. Logan pulls off enough to just suck at the sensitive head of him. 

Wade trembles, moaning long and loud as he pushes at Logan’s head, urging him to take him deeper into his mouth. Logan shifts his grip to Wade’s hips, holding him in place as he swallows him down. He digs his nails in, just on the verge of being too sharp and the jolt of pain sets Wade off. 

“ Fuck , Logan. Fuck, baby, I’m coming— I can’t—” he babbles through it, cutting off in a low groan, coming down Logan’s throat as he swallows everything Wade gives him. 

Logan moans around his full mouth, pulling off to lick Wade clean with soft swipes of his tongue, careful and attentive. Bordering on worshipful. When Wade starts to bat at his forehead he moves away from his dick completely, shifting to nuzzle at his hip. 

“I love you,” Logan mumbles into his skin, but Wade hears it as if he shouted it. 

“I— you—” Wade can’t even think, can’t form a single blessed sentence, for the first time in fucking forever, no words find him. He doesn’t need words, though, as Logan tucks him back into his shorts, climbing back up over his body to collapse onto his chest. Wade’s arms wrap around him automatically, feeling different now with his new knowledge of just how much Logan relishes being in them. How safe he makes Logan feel. 

“I love you,” Logan says again. “Every part of you.” He purrs, rumbling and strong as Wade squeezes him tight. 

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So fucking much, you’ve got no idea the things you do to me.” Wade feels brand new, disassembled and put back together in a new light. Like he’s different, but somehow exactly the same. Like he’s found his purpose, to be loved and looked after by the one and only version of the Logan that followed him home. 

The one that saved him.

Chapter Text

Pt. 1

“What’re you doin’,” Logan asks softly, standing in the entryway to their kitchen, watching intently as Wade scribbles furiously with a red crayon over the dozens of papers spread across the dining table. Wade doesn’t look up at him, too hyperfocused on the task in front of him — he’s been sat in the same spot for nearly three hours, muttering and talking to himself out loud, rationalizing out his next merc job, a feat Logan was incredibly attracted to being able to witness. He always got a little fuzzy-headed when Wade subtly flexed his competency at what he does. 

“Just trying to crack this shit, peanut. Can’t seem to figure out the best way to break into their stupid base with the least trouble — not that I mind trouble per se, but I’m not exactly a lonesome gal on my own anymore so I gotta start thinking about taking it a little bit easier. Got this cutie back at home base who worries about me when I’m out now.” 

Oh , he does listen when Logan talks; they’d had a tiny conversation a few weeks ago about how Logan would sort of, maybe, kind of, prefer if Wade didn’t come home so clearly previously beat up from his jobs, but Logan didn’t know if any of it stuck with him considering how he hadn’t made all that strong of a case. He wasn’t about to demand things from Wade on his jobs, especially since Logan himself wasn’t exactly ready to be out in the field with him for protection just yet. He needed a little more time to settle. 

Logan unsuccessfully fights to stifle the whine that builds in his throat. It escapes from his lips despite his efforts, ringing around the kitchen, chasing the scratching of Wade’s crayon across paper. The sound causes Wade to finally, blessedly look at Logan but he shrinks a little under the attention, curling into himself in embarrassment at his neediness. But he’s agitated; sometimes buzzing just under his skin that he can’t quite name, just that it always calms under Wade’s careful watch. And besides, the other had been at this for far longer than either of them anticipated it would take, and he just misses his company. 

He’s not quite capable of putting all of this into words, though, so he merely nods solemnly when Wade asks, “doing alright, sweetheart?” 

Wade smiles indulgently at him, looking too fuckin’ cute for his own good in Wade’s clothes, a threadbare hoodie with new holes in the sleeves from Logan’s gnawing fangs and pajama shorts, despite the fact that it’s 2 in the afternoon. It makes Wade’s heart hammer knowing how fucking special it is to witness Logan stripped of his defenses like this. He’s clearly after something, but Wade doesn’t think even Logan himself knows what it is, it’s good for the both of them that Wade’s the Wolverine Whisperer. 

“Come here, Lo.” He makes his voice firm, confident in the way that reduces Logan down to an eager to please little puppy — and it works like it always does, pulling at the invisible tether between them, drawing Logan to his side as if he simply materialized wherever Wade wished instead of having to take deliberate steps. “There’s my good boy. You feeling needy, puppy?” 

Guilt crashes into Logan, fueled by the already thrumming surge of negative energy in his head and his veins. “No,” he says, entirely unconvincing. 

“Mm, maybe it’s just me, then,” Wade considers, undeterred and smirking. “Missing my baby while I do all this boring work.” 

He loops an arm around Logan’s waist, twirling the crayon in his other hand. Logan’s warm under his palm where Wade slides it under the hoodie to stroke at his side. “D’you wanna do something for me?” 

Logan’s nodding yes before the questions even completely out of Wade’s mouth. “Yeah? Alright, sweetheart. Can tap out whenever you want to, though, you know that.” He scoots his chair out a bit from under the table, spreading his legs to make room for Logan between them. Wade feels Logan shudder, hears the sharp intake of his breath stuttering in his throat. Wade raises his brow bone at him, questioning and checking in, but Logan just swallows, snapping into motion to crawl between Wade’s legs and settle in. He’s hidden here under the table before, a myriad of times, in his puppy headspace and he feels a fraction of calm wash over him at the cozy security of the spot. 

He’s gorgeous as he looks up at Wade through his lashes, kneeling for him with an eager wanting written clearly on his face. Logan rests his hands on Wade’s thighs, but doesn’t reach any further without permission. Such a good boy. His lips part as he watches Wade breath, anticipating his next command. 

“Puppy want a bone?” 

It startles a snorting laugh out of Logan as he reels back, scrunching his nose. “Don’t say it like that!” 

Wade cups his jaw, petting through the hair on his cheeks, he grins at him. “Alright, alright. I won’t, I promise. Can you gimme an answer, though, sweetheart?” 

Logan tenses his fingers on Wade’s thighs, leaning back in with wide eyes, “yeah. Yes, I want.” 

“Good boy.” 

He strokes at Logan’s cheek once more before undoing the zipper on his pants — he’s half dressed in his Deadpool suit from the waist down, a simple white t-shirt on top. Wade undoes the fly to fish out his rapidly hardening cock, just the sight of Logan before him enough to get him going. 

Logan licks at his lips, looking ready to pounce but before he can envelope Wade in his pretty mouth, Wade tips his chin up, forcing him to look into his eyes. He inches his hips forward slowly, tip dragging against Logan’s full bottom lip. “Want you to just hold this for me, baby, can you do that? Be my good little puppy for a while, huh?” 

He watches, eyes dark and possessive, as Logan closes his lips around the head of him softly, running his tongue along the underside in silent agreement. Wade feeds him the rest of his length steadily until he feels the stretch of Logan’s throat accommodating him. Logan sputters, nearly choking before he adjusts and settles down, slumping his shoulders as he presses his nose to Wade’s abdomen. He’s careful to keep his fangs in check even as he loses himself to the sensation. 

Running his hands through Logan’s hair, Wade groans. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fucking perfect for me.” 

Logan just whines in answer, closing his eyes as the rest of the swirling nerves he’s been feeling since he woke up dissipate with the heavy weight of Wade on his tongue. 

Wade goes back to work, looking over his maps and his diagrams with renewed perspective, threading the fingers of one hand through Logan’s cowlicks and picking up his crayon with the other. Logan remains mostly still, holding Wade in the perfect heat of his soft mouth. 

A while passes, nothing but the sounds of scratching wax on paper and Logan’s occasional whimper of need. He’s kept his hands on Wade’s thighs, but the other knows he’s aching and hard where he kneels on the tiled floor, could probably come in two easy strokes if Wade let him touch himself, but he hasn’t given him permission and Logan won’t ask with his mouth full — ever the gentleman. 

He forgets himself occasionally, starts to suck Wade’s cock in earnest, but he stops immediately when Wade tuts at him. “Ah, ah. Easy, honey badger. You were doing so well.” 

The praise makes his head spin and his stomach swoop. He’s leaking a wet spot into Wade’s shorts, twitching at every small tug of Wade’s hands in his hair. But his mind is blissfully blank and quiet; nothing matters to him right now but the feel and smell of Wade all around him. 

Eventually, Logan reaches his breaking point, getting desperate for release — either his or Wade’s, it doesn’t matter, each of them being equally satisfying to him in different ways. He whimpers continually, high pitched and muffled against Wade’s groin. Shifting his hips proves no relief, rutting into the air like a dog, his own cock rubs against the damp fabric just enough to tease and nothing more. Logan’s mouth pools with drool for the millionth time this afternoon and he swallows once, twice before tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

His whines pitch more frantic and desperate, eyes flicking to Wade’s in a silent plea. Logan begs so prettily that Wade just has to crumble every time. When their eyes meet, Logan bobs his head up and down slowly, just once, letting Wade slide across his tongue in a slick, hot stroke. 

The crayon snaps in Wade’s fingers as they tighten uncontrollably. 

“Fuck, fuck , Lo.” He bucks into Logan’s mouth roughly, dislodging the tears from his eyes, tracing the wetness as it tracks down Logan’s cheeks with his heavy gaze. “You need more, puppy? Need me to fuck your throat and fill you up?” 

Logan purrs, nodding his head the best he can with Wade’s cock deep in his throat. He opens more for him, letting the merc tangle his fingers demandingly into his hair to push and pull him up and down his length as he pleases. “Take it for me, baby, come on. My good boy. So fucking good at this, aren’t you? Should keep you like this all the time, on your knees for me where you belong.” 

Lorna chokes and falters at his words, hips stuttering as he comes in his shorts with a rough moan. He pulls off Wade in slight panic, knowing he didn’t ask permission before he came, but Wade soothes him gently, cooing in that special voice he uses just for Logan. “Sh, sweetheart, you’re alright. You’re my good boy, it’s okay. Want you to feel good. Come back, c’mere.” 

Wade guides his mouth back down, letting Logan get him off any way he wants now that the moment’s tension has broken. Logan dives back in eagerly, using his hands now to stroke Wade’s cock while he laves his tongue over the sensitive tip. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Fuck—,” he cuts off with a high moan as Logan swallows him down completely again, working his throat the way he knows Wade likes exactly. He pets at Logan’s hair, relaxing into the way his orgasm builds and builds. Wade watches the way Logan’s mouth moves raptly, pretty pink lips stretched wide over his cock, letting the heat and tension coiling in his stomach burn until everything goes white. 

Face pinched in pleasure, Wade rolls his hips into the sensation, spilling down Logan’s throat in thick spurts. He whines happily, claw tips peaking in and out of his knuckles as he kneads at Wade’s thighs with his hands, content and satisfied that they both got to feel good. He pulls off Wade for a final time, purring hard as he licks his lips clean of his release. 

Wade pushes his chair back out the rest of the way, careful not to scrape across the floor and hurt Logan’s ears and pulls the other up off his knees to settle in his lap. “That was so good, baby, thank you. I love you, was that okay? You feel alright?” He sweeps wide palms across Logan’s back, cuddling him close to press kisses all over his face. Logan just purrs louder, nodding his head against Wade’s collarbone, filled with a bubbly, lighter feeling than he had been experiencing earlier. 

-

Pt. 2

Logan absolutely, 100%, sure as shit was not pouting. 

But if he was, it was Wade’s fault. 

“ Wade ,” he whines, squirming in his spot on the couch beside the merc, desperately trying to will his erection down since it looks like Wade isn’t going to be doing anything about it any time soon. “When you said you wanted to ‘watch a movie’ and then slapped my ass, I really didn’t think that meant actually watching a movie.” 

Wade leans forward, elbows on his knees and his eyes locked onto the tv. “You know, puppy baby, I didn’t think I meant that either, but then I didn’t realize it was this movie we were gonna watch.”

“You picked this movie!” He fights down a whine. 

“What’s ‘a matter, sweetheart, you need somethin’?” Wade finally tore his eyes away from the screen to level Logan with an artificially coy look, batting his barely there lashes in a dare. Logan rarely, if ever, asked for anything he wanted. 

Wade had been riling Logan up all damn day. It started when he bent him over in the kitchen that morning before breakfast and then didn’t stop; soft words and even softer, lingering touches all day leaving Logan half hard and aching for more for hours today. He opens his mouth, wanting to growl and bare his fangs but all that comes out is the pitiful, petulant whine he suppressed earlier. He can work with that, though. 

Logan leans against Wade’s side, warm and solid. Puppy eyes in full effect, he shifts his hips, drawing Wade’s attention to them in a snap. Wade could prep him and be inside him in minutes if he felt like it – even quicker if he just fucked him right away, but Logan knows by now that Wade doesn’t ever want it to hurt him, that he wants to take care of Logan completely. 

“I want you to touch me,” Logan says. Simple, easy. Wade drops a hand to his inner thigh immediately in reward and Logan’s breath catches, lips parting on a stuttering inhale. But Wade doesn’t move any further and turns back to the movie playing. Logan catches the smirk on his profile. 

Until, “take these off, sweetheart?” And Logan scrambles to shed his clothes. 

He’s not even embarrassed when Wade chuckles at his enthusiasm, too focused on the way the merc is taking out his own cock and stroking himself lazily to full hardness. Logan sits, practically vibrating with anticipation as he waits for Wade to tell him what to do next. 

“C’mere, come sit in my lap, angel baby,” he pats his thighs, spreading them to accommodate Logan on top of them. 

Logan whines out a soft “thank you”, throwing his leg over Wade’s lap to straddle him, finding Wade’s mouth with his own to kiss him breathless. 

Wade kisses him back with equal heat, slipping his tongue between Logan’s lips when he gasps in the small space between them. He slips his hands down Logan’s sides, using one of them to hold his hip and the other to trace fingertips around his rim, light and teasing but searching to see how loose he is already. 

Logan’s two steps ahead of him, moaning into the kiss he snatches up the lube hidden in the couch cushions and presses it into Wade’s palm. The merc laughs against his lips, “my thirsty little honey badger.” 

Logan tries to nip at him in retaliation, but can’t help but cry out as two of Wade’s fingers enter him at once, the third already just brushing against his entrance, waiting its turn impatiently. 

Soon enough Wade’s lowering Logan’s hips down, spearing him open on his cock slowly. The feeling of fullness makes Logan purr, burying his face in the soft skin of Wade’s neck. The merc wraps his arms around Logan tightly once he’s fully seated, pulling him flush to his chest. 

“So good, baby. Stay right here for me, Lo.” 

Logan whimpers, clenching down and rocking his hips in shallow movements that don’t do anything more than tease his aching cock against Wade’s shirt. Why isn’t Wade fucking him? 

“Please? Wade, I want it. Need you.” He presses sweet kisses to his neck, attempting to entice Wade into finally thrusting into him, but Wade’s back to watching the movie, stroking soothing hands down Logan’s back and up into his hair. It feels nice, but it’s not what he’s after.

He tries one more time, whining high and sweet in his throat the way he knows Wade likes, nipping and sucking a bruise into the soft spot below Wade’s ear. Logan clenches again, squirming and desperate, but Wade draws a hand down to his hip and squeezes twice. 

“Sh, baby, you’re alright. Don’t have to do all that, just sit still. Can we finish the movie, puppy? Please?” Wade brushes his lips against his ear as he talks, Logan’s weakness, but he wants . 

“Just feels so good, Wade, I can’t help it,” he rolls his hips another time, but Wade doesn’t budge. He’s still soft and warm when he asks Logan if he can be good, though, so not getting what he wants doesn’t quite register as Logan’s lulled by Wade’s tone of voice. 

“You can be my good boy for a half hour, can’t you? Thats all that’s left.” And Logan just huffs at him because of course he can. He’s Wade’s good boy all the time. 

Wade laughs lightly at him again, pressing a kiss to the side of his face and Logan melts, settling in against his chest to rest his head against Wade’s shoulder and just breath him in. He’s getting it now, what Wade wanted and he realizes that he likes this a lot, too. Being this close to Wade feels so good, every minute shift or adjustment reminding Logan that he’s there where Logan’s most sensitive, where there’s nothing left between them. 

The background noise of the movie fades as he goes soft and plaint in Wade’s arms, content to just be filled and held close. Why didn’t he think of this before? 

Logan floats, pleasant haze growing in his mind the longer he stays there, being good for Wade. He dozes a little, in and out of awareness as pleasure and contentment sing through his veins. He lets Wade know how good he feels with his purring, rumbling strong and steady in his chest and throat. 

The first light thrust of Wade’s hips startles a gasp out of him. He didn’t realize the movie had ended, but now Wade’s holding him with more intent, talking low in his ear. “Good boy. You’re so good for me, Lo. My perfect puppy, thank you. You want more now, baby?” 

He pairs his praise with slow strokes of his hips, thrusting harder when Logan whines happily, nodding his head yes to the question. The angle is perfect, hitting all the right spots inside Logan that make his eyes roll back and his toes curl. He shifts his own hips to meet Wade’s, deep but slower than usual, drawing out their pleasure until it’s almost too much. 

Logan cries when he gets closer, reaching that too-much-not-enough spot where it’s all consuming. He picks up his pace, riding Wade in earnest now, chasing his release that’s felt like it’s been hours in the making. Wade moans at the sight of his tears, gripping his waist tightly, helping him up and down his cock. “So fucking pretty, Lo. Beautiful. I love you. My good boy.” 

“ Wade ,” he cries, fumbling his rhythm as his thighs burn, tired and aching from being in the same position for so long. 

“Oh, puppy, let me help you,” Wade coos before suddenly flipping them, pressing Logan down against the couch and hiking his knees nearly to his chest. He stays buried in Logan throughout the whole move, only slipping out about halfway and the first deep press of him in the new position has Logan keening. 

Wade fucks into him, panting into Logan’s ear as his own climax crests. “Want you to come with me, baby.” 

“Please,” Logan sobs and wraps his arms around Wade’s shoulders, “please, Wade. Feels so good I need to come.” Warmth spreads through him as Wade fills him up, fucking him through shuddering aftershocks. When Wade bites at his neck, right where his collar would sit if he’d been wearing it, Logan shatters, coming in hot stripes across his stomach and chest, smearing between them as Wade keeps pumping him full. 

He feels stripped bare, shaking with heaving breaths as he comes down, but Wade still holds him, pulling out gently. He gathers Logan into his arms, tucking him close to his heart on his chest. Sweeping his palms down Logan’s back and sides, he whispers sweet words in his ear, telling Logan how good he was for him, how pretty he looks when he comes, how much Wade loves his sweet puppy. 

It takes a little before Logan resurfaces, but he noses at Wade’s neck when he does, nipping up to his jaw. “We should— we should watch movies like that more often,” he croaks, voice raw and wrecked, perfectly fucked out. 

“Thought you’d like that, sweetheart.”

Chapter Text

Logan was in a bad mood since he woke up; overheated and overtired, Wade’s poor puppy was just not having it and no matter what Wade tried, he couldn’t seem to help. So – fed, watered, and loved on as much as Wade could with his limited knowledge of the situation, Logan sprawled brooding on their couch. 

Something was up and Wade was determined to figure it out. There was one thing left that he could think of trying. 

“C’mere, Lo,” he calls, just in the entryway of the kitchen behind the couch, close enough to see Logan where he’s slumped in the corner of it, pouting puppy. Logan just yawns and frowns into the middle distance. 

A beat passes where he flicks his eyes to Wade only to look away again; a dismissal. Alright. Maybe he didn’t hear what Wade actually said. 

He comes to lean over the back of the couch, running his fingers through Logan’s hair, he tips his head back gently. “Did you hear me, sweetheart? Can you come here for a second, please?” 

Logan doesn’t give him the chance to even explain himself, flashing a fang in an answer that makes Wade’s fingers tighten automatically in reaction before he can stop himself, sparking something bright and intense in Logan’s eyes. Whatever plan Wade had to spoil and dote on him goes out the fucking window in an instant. Is that what his puppy wants? 

He could do that for him. Put him back in his place and remind him how it was Wade’s job to take care of him. Wade’s no stranger to this particular dynamic, but he’s a little out of practice, admittedly — he hasn’t messed around with this kind of thing since before he was Deadpool. Logan’s never been anything but the sweetest sub Wade’s ever encountered and the one time he’d ever been “punished” didn’t count since it had only happened after Logan asked to try it out. He hadn’t earned it for real. 

“Where’s your collar, puppy? D’you want it?” It’s a double-edged and loaded question, if Logan says no Wade will back off, but if Logan says yes… well. Then Wade will just have to give him exactly what he’s asking for. He watches Logan’s throat bob, his heart hammering under Wade’s palm through his tank top. Wade pets him lightly there, calm and steady. Waiting. He’s about to move away from him to call it off in three, two… 

And Logan’s off like a shot, barreling into their bedroom after his collar, fishing it out of the nightstand drawer with fumbling, clumsy hands. He’s halfway back to Wade before he catches himself, purposefully slowing himself down, feigning nonchalance instead of his natural overeagerness whenever it comes to anything Wade asks of him. He approaches Wade calmly, handing over his collar with a shrug, not meeting Wade’s eyes. 

Wade takes it from him gently, brushing their fingertips together as he does. “Thank you, puppy. Why don’t you kneel for me and I’ll put it on you?” He knows Logan likes to roam on all fours sometimes, giving into his instincts and his altered biology, it makes it more comfortable than walking upright some days. If he’s on his knees already, it’ll be easier for him to slip into it. 

Maybe it was a fluke, a small hissy fit and Logan will roll over now like he always does, show his belly and they can have a sweet, slow night, Wade thinks, until Logan’s eyes light up with a challenge and he growls low, stalking into Wade’s space. They’re chest to chest when Logan tips his chin down defiantly to hide his throat, crowding Wade despite the two inches in height between them in Wade’s favor. His eyes are on the collar, wanting what’s his and wanting it now. The ‘forever’ tag gleams in the fading evening light; feeling heavier than it’s been since Logan started wearing it, like he’s trying to prove something now, testing if Wade was serious or not. 

Wade grasps his chin between his thumb and forefinger tightly, tipping Logan’s face so he makes searing eye contact with him. “You know that’s not how you ask for things around here, pup.” 

He’s not rough, at least not needlessly — but he’s firm, steadfast. Logan’s practically begging for Wade to manhandle him right now and with each pushback from him, Wade’s getting more and more tempted to do just that. He watches delightedly as Logan’s pupils blow wide and his breathing picks up. Wade sees the way the gears are turning in his little puppy brain. 

Logan steps back, freeing his chin from Wade’s pinching grasp and starts moving like he’s finally going to kneel like Wade asked, but he fakes Wade out, snatching the collar from his hand with his teeth and bounding away with it on all fours. He circles the couch, putting distance between him and Wade to drop the collar out of his mouth and fasten it around his neck, looking smug and self-satisfied as he sits on his haunches. 

“Is that how it’s gonna be tonight, peanut? Alright.” 

Logan snarls around a growl that edges toward a purr, slight wiggle of his hips betraying his fierceness to reveal his excitement. When Wade takes too long to react, Logan even rolls his eyes petulantly. 

Wade almost tips the couch leaping over it to get to him. Thank god it’s just them anymore in the apartment. 

Nearly howling with laughter, Logan scrambles and accidentally boxes himself into the corner by the TV, giving Wade the opening to snatch him up. Logan swipes at him with his claws half out, drawing barely-there, instantly fading streaks of scratches at Wade’s shoulders; barely nicking him, but the sentiment is there. 

“ What has gotten into you, Lo? Holy fuck.” 

Logan fusses as Wade gathers him into his arms, huffing and squirming and it’s only due to Wade’s recently gained strength that he manages to keep Logan steady as he carries him into their bedroom. He tries to shush and soothe him, but his attempts fall on deaf ears. Logan’s too busy snuffling at the junction between Wade’s neck and shoulder like he always does, except this time, instead of the sweet, playful nipping that calms Logan down, he’s rougher – biting at Wade sharp enough to draw beading droplets of blood. The act seems to spur Logan further into his bratty mood, propelling a snarling growl from his throat where usually, mouthing harmlessly at Wade would mellow him out, using the other as his loving chew toy. 

He startles out of it when Wade drops him indelicately onto their bed, climbing over him to pin his hands above his head, threading their fingers together in a tight, uncompromising hold. “ Enough .” 

Logan’s eyes fly to his lips as Wade speaks, hips snapping up instinctively. Wade grins, got him . 

“Are you ready to be calm now?” 

Logan tracks the movement of Wade’s mouth with lidded eyes, licking at his own lips hungrily before chasing after the merc’s for a desperate kiss. Wade pulls his face back just out of reach, admiring the way Logan strains toward him. There’s nearly no color left in Logan’s eyes, swallowed almost completely by his blown pupils. He whines before snapping his teeth in Wade’s face. 

There’s a fraction of a second where Wade falters, but Logan, being keyed up and intimately in tune with him, notices the moment of weakness instantly and pounces on the opportunity. He struggles free from Wade’s hold, gaining leverage to flip them so he’s on top, grinning triumphantly before he swoops in to steal a deep kiss and grinds himself down against Wade’s hip. 

The move knocks the breath out of Wade’s chest a little bit, the effect doubled by the way Logan plunders his mouth, tongue seeking and insistent against his own. He lets him go for a while, enjoying skimming his hands up and down Logan’s sides without an argument at the moment and the way he’s still kissing him soft and sweet despite his attitude, like Logan can’t help how he falls into it naturally. 

It’s not until Logan starts to whimper into the kiss, hips stuttering like he’s getting close that Wade remembers he’s been acting out for an hour now and really shouldn’t be given into this easily. 

He breaks the kiss to breath, trailing his mouth across Logan’s hairy cheek to tug his earlobe between his teeth. Logan shudders when he tells him, “that was a real cute power struggle, peanut, but c'mon now.” 

“ No .” 

And it’s new that his puppy can use his words like this, a fact that still makes pride flicker in Wade’s chest even as Logan uses his newfound ability to deny him. It’s merely the basics that he’s got a hold of lately, rasping and growling in his puppy space, just ‘no’, ‘yes’, and the occasional, special breathless ‘ please ’ that’s Wade’s favorite. 

His eyes widen a touch pleadingly as he says it before he schools them into hardening again — Wade’s cue that it’s not a real no. 

Wade purses his lips, leaning up towards Logan’s face like he’s going to kiss him again, only to peck at his lips briefly before rolling out from under him. Logan yelps, caught off guard as he’s pushed onto the bed on his stomach, Wade straddling his hips to keep him in place.  

Pushing his face into Wade’s pillow — although, technically, they’re both Wade’s pillows because Logan’s pillow has always been Wade himself — Logan growls and struggles, taking in greedy lungfuls of Wade’s scent even as he thrashes against the merc’s hold. 

Wade just coos at him, calm and controlled. “Where’s my sweet puppy, hm? Have you seen him? Tell him I miss him.” 

The comment saps the rest of Logan’s attitude from him, draining the fight and desire to act like a brat completely. He slumps against the bed fully, lax in Wade’s hold, breathing roughly. With a quiet whimper he turns his face, baring his throat in submission. Wade hums pleasantly, like it was no big deal, no effort to wrangle Logan to this moment and lowers himself over his back to press a chaste, soft kiss to the pulse point on Logan’s neck. 

“ Good boy .”

Chapter Text

Wade kisses intently at Logan’s neck, sucking and nibbling delicate marks that he mourns won’t stay. He holds Logan down firmly, pressing his weight into his hips and threading their fingers together to press their hands by his head against the sheets. Logan gasps at every kiss, fighting to keep himself still when all he wants to do is squirm and push at Wade’s buttons. Some incessant need right now to see just how much he can get away with before Wade really lays into him. It’s been tame so far, giving Logan chance after chance, only really handling him in the ways he always does. But Logan aches for more, burns for it. 

“Are you gonna be my good boy, Lo? Huh?” Wade asks, licking the shell of Logan’s ear, breath ghosting hotly over the sensitive skin. “I don’t know who this naughty puppy is, but he’s not my sweet Lo.” 

Logan groans, canting his hips into the mattress — he’d been close earlier from kissing Wade and grinding against his hip and he was sure it wouldn’t take much to get him there again, so focused on his need he forgets to answer. Wade bites at him in admonishment when Logan fails to respond, digging his teeth just below his collar. Claw tips prick his fingers where they’re laced with Logan’s, cutting shallow slices on either side of them. He just grins at the sharp sting of it. 

“I guess there’s my answer, baby. That’s alright, you’ll be my good boy again after your punishment. I’ll always forgive my sweet puppy once he’s taken his punishment properly.” 

Fuck , Logan wants . Wade doesn’t sound disappointed, in fact he seems to want this as bad as Logan. He probably would’ve had to call it all off if Wade was disappointed in him, but instead his hips wiggle in excitement. 

“Oh,” Wade practically coos, “puppy likes that idea, doesn’t he? You’re too easy, sweetheart, I can see right through you. Should’ve just told me this was what you wanted, didn’t have to go to all that trouble just for my attention.” 

He hauls himself off of Logan, stripping his clothes beside the bed while Logan rolls over and sits up, looking hazy and dazed already. 

Wade quirks his brow at him, “need help, Lo? Or can you take care of it?” The condescending tone makes heat lick up Logan’s spine, his mouth going dry at each inch of skin Wade reveals of his scarred body. He nearly shreds his tank top in his rush to pull it over his head, shimmying out of his sweats in quick succession. Logan sits, naked save for his collar while Wade appraises him with a far too sappy look for what he’s about to do to him. 

If Logan had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. 

“C’mere, pup,” Wade says, getting on the bed again, not waiting for Logan to move, simply grabbing him by the hips and pulling , maneuvering Logan however he pleases, with nothing but a halfhearted tug being strong enough.  

He pulls Logan into his chest, back to front, kneeling in the middle of their bed. He wraps his arms loose, but with the suggestion that they could tighten at any moment around Logan’s waist. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Oh, he’s serious now, Logan thinks, a little lightheaded. No pet name to soften the command. 

Logan growls, locking his jaw with a click and a duck of his chin. He feels Wade tense behind him. 

Wade sighs airily, as if minorly inconvenienced, grasping Logan’s face in his hand, pulling him back further into Wade’s chest. “I said, open. Your mouth, puppy.” 

Logan shudders, eyes closing as the sensation of Wade’s voice washes over him, stern and commanding. His cock twitches between his legs, aching and leaking. 

“Come on, Lo, you were doing so good for me.” He pinches Logan’s cheeks on either side of his mouth, digging his thumb and forefinger in an effort to get Logan to drop his jaw. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but this back and forth has to be exhausting for you. Why don’t you just give in, sweetheart? Let me take care of you. Don’t gotta think anymore, just have to listen to me like you usually do.” 

With a whine, Logan drops his mouth open, slumping further into the column of heat Wade’s emanating against his back. Wade notches his chin over Logan’s shoulder, gazing hotly at the long line of his body, taut and tense from his mental exertion. Logan’s softening up again, a layer of perfect, healthy fluff over his abdomen. Wade wants to bite at it, but he’ll make do with running his hand over soft perfect skin. 

“Good. Now what do you think, puppy?” Wade says, hooking his fingers in Logan’s mouth, trailing his other hand down, down, down to stroke over his cock in a slow tease. “20 swats?”

His cock leaks again, wetting Wade’s hand and easing the friction of his grip. 

“30?”

He twitches in Wade’s hold. 

“ 40 ?”

He keens around the fingers in his mouth. 

“Oh, I know , angel baby. How about I keep going until you’re just a slobbering, crying puppy who can’t remember anything but my name?” He presses a searing kiss to the side of Logan’s face, using his hand on his cock to guide him impossibly closer, cupping his length and drawing their hips flush. Logan whines at the feeling of Wade’s cock grinding against his ass, he wants it so fucking bad, but he knows he won’t get it until after — if Wade even gives it to him at all. 

Wade lets him go suddenly, Logan dropping his hands to catch himself as Wade settles himself against their pillows, stretching his long legs out. Logan knows the drill here, knows his place and makes his way into it mindlessly, anticipation buzzing in his ears. He yelps, caught off guard when Wade tugs at his hips once more, forcing Logan onto his knees, ass and hips elevated instead of the sprawl he was going for. He won’t be able to grind against Wade’s lap like this, too much distance with his cock trapped between his own thighs. 

“Alright, baby? Gonna be okay like this?” Wade asks, skating his hands over Logan’s flank appreciatively. His puppy nods, ducking his chest to press further into the bed, arching his back perfectly. “Good.” 

Logan howls as Wade’s palm meets his ass for the first time, the strike resonating in an echo around their room. He snaps his teeth around a snarl, fisting the sheets and hunching his shoulders in some manner of protecting himself. Wade can see tears gathering in his eyes already, but Logan doesn’t let them fall. 

Wade smoothes a hand down his back, shushing him gently. “Sh, sh, baby, you’re alright. Am I gonna have to muzzle you? You’re not gonna bite me, are you?” 

Logan shakes his head, no. He won’t bite Wade, but he won’t be quiet about it, that’s for sure. Reading Logan’s mind, Wade says, “don’t have to keep quiet, puppy, I wanna hear you.” 

It’s nice to be known so well, Logan thinks, but he can’t quite wrap his head around the words for that at the moment so he just whines and huffs at every smack of Wade’s hand. The sting burning and aching so good , settling something deep in Logan’s psyche. He never gets to heal the whole way before Wade hits him again, stoking heat through his whole body as he outpaces the erasure of his healing factor. 

Wade hums and coos at him, enjoying every second just as much as Logan seems to be. He loses track around twenty-five, settling into the rhythm of taking Logan apart with each pass of his hand. It doesn’t register when Wade makes a grab for the lube. 

The click of the bottle cap has Logan panting against the sheets, squirming as much as he can while still pinned in place with his hips elevated. He’s seeking friction thoughtlessly, forgetting that this is part of his punishment. 

Slick, cool fingers tease across his heated ass, trailing around his rim lightly. Logan tries to buck into it, encouraging Wade to dip the tip of his middle finger into him just barely. He works his finger in slowly, sighing at the tight heat of him, rubbing over his walls to coax Logan into loosening up for him. 

Eventually his fingers sink into Logan with no resistance, slick and satisfying in all the ways Logan loves. One becomes two, becomes three in quick succession, Logan opening for him so prettily. He misses his prostate on purpose, focusing instead on massaging all the tension from him, lulling Logan down far enough that he finally lets his tears fall freely. After that, he feels Wade nudging at his prostate like he was just waiting for Logan’s cue, but he never lets Logan tip over the precipice, keeps him dangling just on the verge of ecstasy repeatedly. 

His first orgasm builds slow, trickling warmth from low in his belly out toward his fingertips only to be culled back when Wade teases his fingers out of him to trace and tease his rim. Logan chokes a gasp as the heat simmers, easing off until he’s no longer at risk of coming at the next brush of Wade’s fingers. He gets close twice before he realizes what Wade’s doing to him, his brain too puppy and slow to get it any sooner than that. The realization that Wade’s edging him makes him keen; the third time Wade slows his fingers before Logan can come, he nearly breaks completely. Didn’t know he needed it until it’s already happening, Wade’s just that good at reading him. 

“Wade,” Logan sobs out, harsh and somewhat garbled, fists weakly clutching the sheets for something to ground him. “Wade, Wade, Wade .” 

“That feel good, baby? You can take more for me, can’t you?” 

Logan’s breath hitches again, tears running down his cheeks, but he nods desperately. He’s a good boy. He can take whatever Wade wants him to. He leaks over their thighs, cock throbbing untouched between them. 

“Yeah, you can. You’re my good boy.” 

He brings him to the edge three more times, quicker and quicker each round, Logan whimpering and crying at every brush of his fingertips against his spot, before finally taking pity on his puppy. Wade’s relentless the last time, fingers sure and insistent, working Logan open and barreling him toward an orgasm rapidly. 

It hits him like fire, molten lava in his core — burning through him. 

“ Wade ,” he sobs again, shaking and coming in hot stripes across Wade’s lap, clenching around his fingers in a vice grip. Wade soothes him through it, stroking inside him softly, letting the aftershocks roll through his body until he’s spent completely. 

Logan’s ears are still ringing, breathing too hard through the waves of his hard earned orgasm to protest when Wade finally slips his fingers out of him. He finishes with one last strike of his palm that Logan doesn’t even feel, before rubbing his hand softly across Logan’s heated skin, massaging some of the tension away as he sniffles, still crying quietly. 

“That’s it, baby, it’s alright. You’re okay. Did so well for me, such a good puppy.” He keeps his voice low, pitched deeper in the way that makes Logan melt, sighing into the mattress and he knows it’s over, knows he’s Wade’s good boy again. Wade shuffles their position, shifting himself out from under Logan, lifting him by his hips before laying him out on his stomach again, just like how they started. Spent cock rubbing against the sheets just on the edge of uncomfortable. 

Wade kneels behind him, skimming his hands up his sides and leans down to press a sweet kiss to the small of Logan’s back, right in between the dimples there. The light press of his mouth has Logan gasping, squirming into the touch for more, more, more, still needy and desperate. Always when it comes to Wade. 

“ Ah , Wade.” Like it’s all he knows how to say anymore, just like Wade promised.  

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m right here. Gonna take care of you now, do you want that, puppy?” He trails more kisses up Logan’s spine, each one lingering longer than the last before he’s plastered himself along Logan’s back. “Want me to fuck you?” 

Logan whimpers, turning his face to try and catch Wade’s mouth with his own, he nods as much as he can with his diminished motor control, “ Please .” 

He guides Logan onto his back gently — the perfect picture of submission now, loose and plaint under Wade’s touch — letting him move him however he wants. Dazed and glassy eyed, Logan’s head lolls, baring his throat to Wade eagerly when he leans to kiss him. Wade smiles against his neck, pressing his lips to feel the purr reverberating there. He breathes in deep, nosing at the hinge of Logan’s jaw; he can’t smell the kinds of things Logan can, they both know that, but the idea of it — performative as it is — always drives Logan wild. The animal in him preening at the thought of Wade being able to smell the effect he has on him. 

He moans softly when their mouths finally meet, hitching a leg up around Wade’s waist to trap him there, his . Even when Logan acts out, moody and petulant and pouty.

“I love you,” Wade mumbles into Logan’s mouth, drawing a ragged gasp and an answering whimper from his puppy. He throws his head back as Wade presses just the tip of his cock against his fucked out rim, sensitive and sore. 

“Fuck,” Wade rasps against his skin. “Feel so good, Lo.” His hips snapping immediately, hard enough to rattle the whole bed, reckless and eager, falling into Logan like he needs him just as badly. Needs the closeness to feel whole himself. 

Logan grunts at the force of it, doing his best to match Wade’s pace, nerve endings singing as he approaches another release. It’s too-good-too-much when Wade slips a hand between them to stroke his cock in time with his thrusts, wringing white hot pleasure from him. 

“W-Wade please? Can I?” he has enough sense to gasp, pleading edge serving to rile Wade up even further, earning him even deeper strokes of his hips. He digs his teeth into Wade’s shoulder, helpless to the way he’s taking him apart so thoroughly. 

“Good boy, Lo, come for me,” Wade drawls, voice unaffected, but hips hitching as Logan clenches around him. He doesn’t stop, even as Logan spills between them over his hand, gritting his teeth around a wrecked moan. Logan cries out, digging his knees into Wade’s waist. 

“One more, sweetheart,” Wade demands softly, “Give me one more.” He feels possessed, wanting to watch Logan come over and over again as fresh tears prick his eyes, slipping down red cheeks as he’s fucked into overstimulation. 

It’s all perfect, everything Logan loves. Wade’s voice, his hand slick with Logan’s own release, and the steady cant of his hips spur Logan on, surrounding him with so much of Wade that he almost instantly comes undone again. Whining and thrashing against the ferocity of it, he’s tipped over the edge a final time, collapsing back against their bed completely wrecked, collar clinking pleasantly. Wade comes with him, filling him up in a filthy claim that makes Logan purr for the feeling of it, sated and satisfied. 

“Angel baby, sweetheart. Fuck. I love you,” he kisses all over Logan’s face, kissing away tear tracks as he pulls out as gently as he can, but Logan doesn’t feel uncomfortable — just like he’s floating, tethered only by Wade’s kisses and his voice. He falls next to Logan, wrapping his arms around his waist while he catches his breath. 

Logan grins at him, dopey and wide, before thunking his forehead down onto Wade’s chest with a giggle. High off his release and the endorphins now coursing through his silly puppy brain. 

“Oh my god, you’re out of it completely. You’re not even on this planet anymore, huh angel baby?” Wade strokes his hair back, thumb sweeping across his temple before placing his lips there delicately. He’s only a little bit more put together than Logan at the moment, needing to cuddle and coexist as much as the other right now. Logan purrs in his arms, grounding Wade and reassuring him in equal measure, letting him know he’s done a perfect job of taking care of his puppy. 

“M’good?” Logan slurs, tipping his head back to level Wade with wide, soft eyes. Wade melts, snuggling closer. 

“You’re so good. My good boy, always.” 

Logan nibbles his jaw in reply, before whispering, comforting and sweet, “I love you, I love you.” 

Like just saying it once wasn’t enough, didn’t encompass the depth of his feelings completely. Wade practically glows with satisfaction.

Chapter Text

The thing about living with Logan is that he never really leaves Wade’s side anymore — not for any considerable length of time, at least. Now, Wade isn’t complaining about this fact, no, he loves his clingy little honey badger just the way he is, touch starved and all. But Wade has a surprise for him, and Logan can’t be in the apartment while he makes it. 

Logan loves his collar, that’s no secret; he loves the color (Deadpool red, of course), the weight of it, and the cute little tag on it that claims him as Wade’s. If Wade was a betting man, he’d wager that that’s Logan’s favorite part. But Wade has an upgrade in mind for him to add to the already custom design of it. 

Things are getting serious, for Wade — he thinks about things with permanence now with Logan as a focal point for every event in his future. He wants Logan and his relationship to be permanent, and he knows how to do that. He's done the asking before, what feels like an entire three lifetimes ago when he was a different man with a different face. A ring pop and a Polaroid and the woman of his old life’s dreams. 

Now, though? Now he can’t imagine wanting anything but Logan until the sun eventually implodes or whatever other world ending catastrophe is going to happen in a thousand years and eventually kill him. The thought doesn’t scare him anymore, of sticking around until the end of time. Not with Logan there to share it with him. Not when he won’t be alone. 

Logan, Logan, Logan. 

Wait, where was he going with this? Oh, that’s right. 

Logan’s let him claim him already, wears his name around his neck like a prize but Wade wants to give him a promise, too. He plans to change out his tag with a shiny new one when he pops the question, after acquiring little Wolvie’s permission of course. 

What better way to let Logan know Wade’s his for the rest of their long lives but the promise of ‘forever’? As some of the only two people who can say that and really mean it. 

He has Dopinder buy him the supplies he’ll need, drop them off discreetly so Logan doesn’t suspect. They're innocuous enough, a little stamping kit with alphabet stampers in the font Wade liked the best, complete with the obnoxious little hammer and plate to put the tag on while he imprints the word into the metal. Wade’s a crafty bitch, Logan knows all about his homemade suit, so it wouldn’t be entirely out of the ordinary if he found them, but Wade doesn’t want to take any chances. He’s already got the tag, bought from the pet supply store he gets Mary’s food at, in gold, just like the original one, just like the matching gold flecked in Logan’s eyes. 

There are two hurdles Wade has to jump to complete his gift — get Logan out of the house long enough, and spell “forever” correctly on the tag, letter by letter while his dyslexia fights him every step of the way. 

When Logan takes Laura out to eat one day, he thinks he’s found his opportunity. He fakes a bad skin day, claiming he just doesn’t want to go out or be seen by anyone, and he has to practically throw Logan out of the door to get him to go without him. 

“Darlin’, we can get takeout, Laura won’t mind, she’d want to stay with you, too. I didn’t know you were feeling like that today, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I knew.” 

Guilt threatens to dismantle Wade’s whole plan as he takes in Logan’s stricken gaze, hurting over his mates own hurt, fabricated or not. Laura only has enough time for dinner before she has to get back to the mansion, and Logan would derail their plans to accommodate Wade. In truth, Wade’s starting to have less and less days where he wants to hide every inch of himself and not leave the house or see anyone. With the ways Logan looks at him, touches him, despite everything, he can’t help but absorb some of his affection for his skin. He’d never think Logan was wrong about anything, so why would his skin be any different? If Logan thinks it’s worth loving, maybe Wade can see that one day, too. 

“No, no, no. You go with Laura, I’ll be fine here, I promise. Gonna have some one on one with our other daughter, me and Mary are gonna gossip about you while you’re gone. You can’t be here for that, obviously.” 

Reluctantly, Logan goes, promising to bring Wade back a sweet treat from his favorite bakery on the way home and Wade lets himself swoon for all of two seconds after the door clicks shut before scrambling for the metal stamping kit. 

He sets everything out on the kitchen table, double, triple, and quadruple checking the spelling of the word, the exact order he’ll need each letter in. “Forever” is written real big next to him as a guide, and he’s numbered the stamps in the order they’ll go: F - 1, O - 2, R - 3 & 7, E - 4 & 6, V - 5 

He can do this. 

Wade takes a deep breath and begins. 

It takes so long he starts to sweat, worrying that Logan will come home any second now and he’s only got F-O-R-E done, painstakingly lined up straight and correct, rechecking and checking again that the letters won’t mix up on him when he blinks the wrong way. 

He manages to finish with time to spare to clean up and hide the evidence — thank Marvel fucking Jesus. 

When Logan gets home a half hour later, Wade can’t really hide his excitement. He practically jumps all over Logan just like Puppins does when she thinks they’ve all left for good when they just go down to the coffee shop on the corner for ten minutes. 

Logan takes it in stride, purring and gathering Wade in his arms in a crushing, perfect bear hug. “Hi, darlin’, what’s gotten into you? Tried to be quick, I don’t think I was gone all that long.” 

Wade nearly vibrates out of his skin, wanting to show Logan his gift now , but he makes himself wait for the right time. He knows it’ll present itself, these things always do, so he forces himself to simply beam at Logan, babbling some excuse about missing him no matter how quick he is. He loops his arms around Logan’s neck, closing his eyes at the sensation of his lips and his purr pressed against his jaw. 

Yeah, this is all he wants, all he needs. 

—

Admittedly, a lot happens after Wade proposes — a lot happened before he proposed, too and he kind of just kept that momentum and decided to roll with it, but he doesn’t blame Logan for not mentioning the homemade nature of his tag right away. But as each day passes and Logan doesn’t ask about it, or comment on it, Wade gets a little anxious. 

Maybe Logan can tell Wade did it and it’s fucked up so he won’t mention it to spare Wade’s feelings. 

Logan’s lying with his head in Wade’s lap, neck tipped back lazily as Wade cards his fingers through his hair, collar on full display when they finally talk about it. 

“The first ‘r’ is crooked, peanut,” Wade says, idly tracing the column of Logan’s throat with a gentle fingertip while Logan purrs, looking blissed the fuck out with contentment. 

“Huh?” He cracks an eye to peek at Wade through his lashes before the comment registers. “Oh, yeah it is. Can feel it when I rub the indents. S’nice. You should give the company a good review, tell them it’s puppy approved.” And he grins, smug and teasing. 

“I did that, Lo, I messed it up. Must not have had the letters lined up like I thought, didn’t notice until now, though,” Wade says softly, hushed the way he gets when something’s serious to him, larger than himself. “M’sorry.” 

Logan’s purr cuts off in his chest and he opens both eyes now, sitting up to look at Wade fully. “You— what do you mean you did it?” 

Wade swallows the urge to jump out the window. “I mean I bought a blank tag, and put the word on it myself. Got a little kit. Came with a tiny hammer — I named it mini Mjolnir.” 

It takes ten pounding, thunderous heartbeats before Logan reacts to this information, but when he finally moves from where he’d frozen, it’s to throw himself into Wade’s lap and attack his lips with his own. 

He whines into Wade’s mouth, cupping his face and stroking his thumbs across scarred skin, pushing their chests as close as possible together like it’s not close enough, never close enough until Logan can crawl into Wade’s ribs and make a home in the centre of his heart. 

“You’re so—,” he says between kisses, “so fucking perfect.” More kisses like he can’t be without Wade’s mouth for longer than a few seconds. “So good to me.” 

Wade’s just along for the ride, running his palms up the back of Logan’s shirt to cup him closer and closer, holding onto him for some semblance of stability while he reels at Logan’s reaction. 

Logan’s voice is thick with emotion when he finally pulls himself away from Wade to breathe, “didn’t have to do all that for me.” 

“‘Course I did, Lo. Wanted it to be special for you. Wanted you to know I meant it.” 

And he does, means it more than he’s meant anything else. 

Logan purrs for him, rolling his hips slowly, “I think we should test your craftsmanship out, darlin’, see how it holds up in the bedroom.” 

Wade groans, looping his finger through the D-ring, knuckles brushing against the tag as he tugs Logan’s face back to his. “Been waitin’ for you to suggest that, puppy baby, c’mon.”

Chapter Text

It was an anniversary of theirs — one of them, at least. They had a dozen or so that Wade liked to keep track of and that Logan had started to learn over time. Wade knew every one of their firsts: first kiss, first time they had sex, first time Logan let him eat him out (Logan didn’t even realize it was that big of a deal when that last one happened, but he’s not gonna argue with Wade when he wants to celebrate it with a whole day of taking Logan apart with his mouth for hours). 

Wade’s birthday even doubles as the anniversary of their “meet cute” as he likes to call it. And the shawarma after the Time Ripper is his definition of their first date. 

And even some of their more unusual ones Wade remembers, too, like the first time Logan shared his food with Wade instead of growling when he reached for a fry or the first time he offered to do Wade’s skincare routine for him even though he hates the feeling of the oily lotions on his hands. 

Logan’s personal favorite is the first time they said “I love you”. 

So, yeah. It was one of their anniversaries and Logan had a surprise waiting for Wade. 

He’d shopped for a week, measured himself in private, nearly tripping over his own feet to wind the tape around himself and bought a lingerie set online with discreet packaging; even went so far as to intercept the mail so Wade didn’t even get a glance at the inconspicuous bag. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a simple satin set with a few lacy bits of trim that frankly, Logan could take or leave, but he knew Wade was going to lose his mind over the sight of them. 

The panties and bralette were a pale, delicate yellow — he’d debated red and even blue, but he figured if these ones were a hit he could always expand his collection. 

Jesus, he never thought he’d be doing something like this. 

He didn’t mind the bottoms (panties, he reminds himself, they’re panties ), can almost convince himself they’re just like briefs, except for the fact that the cut of them leaves much more of his ass hanging out than he’s used to, curving up the fullest part of his ass to frame the arch of muscle. And the low waist in the front can barely contain his cock soft, he’s a little worried about how it’ll look when he’s hard for Wade. 

But it’s just like his briefs, he tells himself, pulling on a pair of his jeans over them. 

The bralette is a little different of a story. Something he’s definitely never messed around with and he doesn’t really think he’s got the nerve to try it on just yet. Maybe if Wade likes the panties he can surprise him a second time and tell him it’s a set and Wade will put it on him himself. The thought sends a surge of heat licking up Logan’s spine. 

He’s lucky Wade was still messing around in the kitchen while he got dressed this morning, allowing him to slip into the surprise before they got started with their day. Wade’s got some little things planned that he wouldn’t clue Logan in on yet, but Logan wanted to be prepared for the first moment the merc decided to jump his bones that day. Be it the middle of the afternoon or right now, mere seconds after he exits the bedroom. Logan was ready. 

—

Well, Logan may have jumped the gun a little bit seeing as Wade’s first plan for their day was just a walk in the park with Puppins, but that was alright with Logan. The silk was comfortable against his skin, a little slippery and cool under his clothes. 

Thank Christ he didn’t go with the G-string thong. If Wade wants to see him in one of those, he can pick that one out himself. 

In all honesty, throughout the walk Logan forgets he’s even wearing them, focusing more on talking with Wade and watching to make sure Mary doesn’t eat anything off the ground. Doesn’t think of what he’s wearing at all until he bends over at the waist to snatch a rock from Mary’s toothless mouth and hears Wade’s sharp intake of breath. 

“Peanut, what the fuck are you wearing?” 

Logan straightens up, face heating a delicious shade of pink across his nose and tips of his ears. “Nothin’. Somethin’ for later. Don’t worry about it. C’mon, you wanted to hit that bakery didn’t you?” He tries to sound unaffected, gruff and gravelly in his usual tone he takes when they’re out of the apartment or around people who aren’t members of his pack. 

Wade’s looking at him like he’s a piece of meat, though, eyes tracing over Logan head to toe and back up again in a slow, heated drag. “There’s no fucking way, Lo.”

But Logan just shakes his head, leading Puppins toward the crosswalk to make their way to the little shop, Wade gawking the whole time. He’s not even attempting to be subtle, undressing Logan with dark, possessive eyes. Logan orders at the counter, stifling a yelp into a cough when Wade slips his hand into the back pocket of his jeans subtly cupping his ass right over the curve of lace edging on the panties, squeezing just once. Unable to keep his hands to himself. He whispers into his ear while they wait for their box, lips brushing the sensitive shell of Logan’s ear on every word, “Is this my present, sweetheart? Got yourself all dolled up for me? I can’t wait to unwrap you.” 

Logan fakes a sneeze as an excuse to hide his face, now fully red and overheated. He nudges Wade up to the counter to grab their dessert and hurries out of the little shop with Puppins before he can be banned for public indecency. He feels his cock stirring to life in the confines of both his jeans and the panties and he thinks he might’ve made a big mistake wearing them out in public. 

The walk back is nothing short of torture, each step causing Logan’s dick to brush teasingly against the soft fabric, now painfully hyperaware of its presence. 

And Wade. Fuck, Wade’s got his hand in a possessive grip, fingers laced as he struts next to Logan like a fucking peacock. Delighting in Logan’s obvious struggle and so fucking excited about this new information. He slows them down on purpose, letting Puppins sniff and scent damn near every tree and sidewalk crack that they pass. He can’t stop staring at Logan’s crotch and ass, dropping his hand to catch fingers through his belt loop and tug Logan close when he looks like he wants to stray too far. Tugging him close and sneaking a peek down the gap it causes in his jeans. 

“This is fucking incredible, honey badger. We need to do this every day.” 

Logan squirms and fights down a whine. He’s so fucked. 

—

Finally, blessedly, they make it back to the apartment and Logan’s still in one piece though he can feel himself leaking a wet spot in the front of the fabric barely covering his straining cock. 

Without thinking, again , he bends over the unclip Mary’s leash and takes off her harness when Wade comes up behind him, pressing his own aching hardness against Logan’s bent over ass, hands gripping his hips as he grinds into him. 

“Stop that!” He groans, straightening up and batting Wade’s hands away. “Not here.” 

Wade grins like the fucking Cheshire Cat — wide and toothy and just the right side of practically fucking evil — before stalking into Logan’s space and snatching him up. He hikes Logan’s legs around his waist, holding him against his chest by wrapping his arms under Logan’s ass. 

Logan yelps, clutching Wade’s shoulders as he carries him into their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. He nuzzles under Logan’s chin, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin, biting particularly hard right over his Adam’s apple. 

“Fucking hell,” Logan moans, baring his throat for more, more, more — always wanting more when it comes to Wade. 

He’s dropped onto the bed a little unceremoniously, Wade losing patience quickly with how many layers of clothes are still between him and the sight of Logan all laid out in those fucking yellow panties. 

Logan shuffles up to the middle of the bed, suddenly unsure and fumbling. “Um, do you wanna undress me, or…?” 

He’s about two seconds from overthinking the whole thing, self conscious and worried it was stupid. That he might look dumb in a piece of lingerie so pretty, the harsh contrast against his rough edges jarring. 

Wade reads his mind like always, crawling up over him to blanket his body with his own, “‘Course I do, honey, that’s the second best part.” 

Logan melts under him, pliant and soft with a low purr rumbling from his chest at the gentle caress of Wade’s hands as he strips him reverently. Peeling the tank top off Logan’s torso lets him drop kisses over his chest and collarbones uninterrupted, trailing his mouth down, down, down to the patch of hair over his stomach. 

When he grabs the fly of his jeans Wade pauses, eyes flicking over Logan’s face to check in but all he finds is the sight of Logan biting at his bottom lip in anticipation, eyes blown black in arousal. He bucks his hips lightly into Wade’s hands in encouragement. 

Wade makes quick work of shucking Logan’s jeans down his legs — another time he might draw it out, slip them down inch by inch in a tantalizing tease, but it’s been almost an hour now that he’s known Logan’s been wearing these underneath and he needs him now . 

He moans at the sight when Logan finally kicks his pants off the full way, laying back to spread his legs wide so Wade can see everything. He’s fucking gorgeous, tan skin complimenting the yellow perfectly, and his cock tenting the fabric in front with how worked up he is, a telltale growing wet spot glistening over the tip of him. 

And the fucking hair peaking out from the edges, curling delicately just like the lacy trim nestled in it. 

Drool pools in Wade’s mouth as he stares at him. 

“You’re so fucking stunning, Lo.” He sounds fucked out already, voice cracking with the weight of mixed sincerity and arousal. 

Logan squirms under the attention, shifting his hips as his cock kicks visibly at the praise, covering his face with his hands. The staring is getting to him a little, he needs Wade’s hands on him now. 

“Such a pretty puppy all dressed up for me,” he says, skimming his hands up Logan’s thighs and settling him instantly with the touch. His puppy whines, spreading his legs wider to accommodate Wade slipping between them. The first press of Wade’s lips over the front of his panties draws a low moan from him, overwhelmed and needy. Wade mouths at him sloppily, soaking the fabric with his spit as he sucks at Logan’s cock through it. 

Before Logan can beg him to rip the fucking damp panties off him, Wade moves his mouth to nip at the v line of his hip, breathing hard like he’s been running and not just tongue fucking the slit of Logan’s cock through satin. 

“Flip over for me, sweetheart? Haven’t even seen your ass in these yet and I’m already fucking close. Jesus fuck, angel baby,” He groans his request into Logan’s hip. 

Logan was all floaty and down the moment Wade put his hands on him so he turns over without hesitating, following the lull of Wade’s voice instinctively. Wade guides him how he wants him exactly, laying Logan flat out on his stomach first, just to admire the cut of them across his ass cheeks. He follows the curve of fabric with his tongue, licking a hot stripe in line with Logan’s exposed skin. 

Stifling a moan into the mattress Logan ruts down, pushing his hips back into Wade’s mouth before pressing forward to drag his covered cock against the sheets. 

Wade grabs at his hips, sitting up and pulling Logan onto his knees with him, shushing his answering whine of protest easily. “Sh, I got you, puppy. I’m gonna take care of you.” 

There’s just enough give for him to pull Logan’s panties to the side, tucking them over to expose his cock and needy hole. It’s enough for Logan to fall apart, the rest of his insecurity and second thoughts evaporating. He spreads his knees a little wider, arching his back and pushing his ass out with a quiet whimper of pure want. 

“Wade, please?” 

A beat passes of Wade simply admiring him, thumbs stroking over his hips to keep him from getting too pissed off. 

“ Wade .” 

But he’s mesmerized by the elegant arch of Logan’s spine, the way the waistband frames the dimples in the small of his back, how he looks like soft sunshine all yellow and tan, warm skin. If Wade had more blood in his brain he’d wax poetic about buttercups and dewy meadows or some other romantic, sappy shit that would make Logan blush, but he’s thinking more with his other head right now as he leans in to finally sweep his tongue over Logan’s hole. 

They’re both too impatient for anything more than a few sloppy passes, before Logan’s scrabbling for the lube under the pillows, passing it back to Wade with a high whine that Wade knows not to ignore or tease him about. He works him open on his fingers quickly, pressing his mouth around the bunched up panties, nipping where the strain makes the meat of Logan’s ass bulge a little bit, flesh soft and plush under his teeth. 

Before long he’s lining himself up and pressing into Logan easily, his hot, tight hole welcoming the intrusion like it always does, like Wade’s the thing he’s been missing. Wade drapes himself over Logan’s back, kissing over his shoulders as he snaps his hips. 

Logan cries out sharply when Wade finds his prostate, hammering into that sweet spot incessantly, driving Logan to clench and squirm underneath him, the pleasure too-much, too-good, too-soon. Wade slows his pace, savoring the drag of his cock against Logan’s walls, greedy. 

“Fucking gorgeous, peanut. So pretty,” he presses chapped lips against Logan’s neck, grinning there when Logan bares it readily, soft and submissive. Trusting. He digs his fingers into Logan’s hips, keeping him up off the bed on his knees, he traces underneath the waistband there, hooking his fingertips into the slippery fabric to hold onto him. 

The noises Logan makes are just as pretty as his panties, coiling the heat in Wade’s stomach tighter and tighter until it snaps, wrenching his orgasm from him like a thief. He falters in his rhythm as he comes, shaking and collapsing on top of Logan to push him into lying flat on the bed, cock rubbing against the sheets. 

“Come on, sweetheart, why don’t you ruin these for me?” Wade moans into his ear, cock still hard and nudging at his sweet spot. He works a hand under Logan’s hips to stroke his cock, wrist brushing satin as he plays with the sensitive head, thumb digging into Logan’s dripping slit as he works to push him over the edge. 

Logan fists the sheets when he finally comes, burying his face in the pillows to stifle his whimpering cry of pleasure. Hips bucking as he makes a mess of himself and the bed beneath him. 

Wade fucks him through it, still shivering through his own aftershocks as Logan clenches around him before stilling completely, settling down with a quiet groan. He picks his head up off the pillows, seeking Wade’s mouth with his own, kissing him at an awkward angle over his shoulder. But he doesn’t mind the strain in his neck as Wade covers him so completely, sucking on his bottom lip lazily. 

“These uh, these came with a top, too,” Logan pants out when they part, heart still hammering a rhythm in his chest. 

Wade’s half hard cock twitches, still buried inside Logan and he groans. 

Logan can already picture the matching blue and red sets.

Chapter Text

The meeting was boring and stupid. All of them gathered around the War Room like a bunch of assholes, Scott droning on and on — Logan was completely uninterested until Wade began to talk, sitting to Logan’s right. 

He was showing admirable restraint, putting Scott in his place as respectfully as Wade could manage, correcting his misconceptions with care. And Logan caught himself slipping, totally fucked. 

Wade was using his serious mission voice, the deep, even toned one that made Logan’s knees go a little weak. The one that said listen to me, I know what I’m talking about. Whispered I’ll take care of you, if you were Logan, at least. He used it at home sometimes to tell Logan what to do. It was enough to bring him to his knees, make him cock drunk nearly every time before Wade even laid a hand on him. 

Hearing it now made heat bloom in his stomach, zoning out so the words were a little lost, he let the mere sound of Wade’s voice wash over him. 

He squirms a little in his seat, the pants of his suit growing tighter. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

Wade’s in his mask and suit, as he often is in the mansion anymore or when discussing mission matters and, well— he looks damn fucking good and he’s talking like that and Logan’s just a man. A suddenly very hot under the collar man whose partner is unknowingly giving him a boner during an X-Men meeting.

He squirms again subtly but Wade catches him, always aware of Logan’s state of being. Dropping a hand to Logan’s inner thigh he squeezes comfortingly, mistaking Logan’s squirming for unease. Logan shamelessly spreads his legs wider, pushing Wade’s hand further up toward his groin. 

Suddenly Wade catches on and squeezes hard, a warning this time, for Logan to be good. But his breath catches audibly and Jean shoots them both a sharp, disapproving look for interrupting. 

It’s incredible honestly, the way his speech never falters. He keeps petting at Logan’s thigh under the table the whole time, both stoking the fire in the pit of his stomach and settling him measurably. He caresses over him, closer and closer until eventually just the edge of his pinkie brushes against Logan’s bulge and he keeps it there the rest of the meeting. 

—

Logan’s whimpering as soon as the last X-Men files out of the room, leaving him and Wade alone after Wade faked needing to finish writing his own mission debrief. Scott just rolled his eyes, calling it typical. 

Neither of them give a shit about the comment though, not when Logan needs Wade as bad as he does right now . 

“Wade,” he whines, shifting his hips. He wouldn’t have been able to leave in front of everyone anyways, hard as the adamantium in his bones as he is at the moment. 

“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” 

“Want you to touch me.” 

And how can Wade say no to that? 

There’s a screech of chairs pushing back and suddenly Wade’s on him, bending Logan over the table and fumbling for the belt of his suit to drop Logan’s pants around his ankles. He runs a gloved hand over Logan’s back and sides, teasing until he gets to the dimples at his spine to dig his thumbs in, using the other to pull his mask just above his nose. 

He’s so fucking gentle even as he’s steady and insistent. Absolute in his will over Logan. Never in two hundred entire years has Logan ever been handled with such deliberate care from someone in control of him. Reminding Logan over and over again why he keeps giving him the reigns. 

Wade drops to his knees behind Logan, grabbing greedy fistfuls of his ass and holding him open. “You want it, puppy?” 

“ Please .” 

“Good boy,” Wade says, diving right in to lick broad stripes over Logan’s fluttering hole. He drags his tongue in slow, drooling strokes tonguing sloppily into him. Logan whines and whimpers, huffing out pathetic noises as he grinds back against Wade’s face. 

“Oh, angel baby, falling apart from a few kisses? What’re you gonna do when I finally get my cock in you?” 

A low whine slips from Logan’s lips as he curls his fingers against the table. Heat pooling in his stomach at Wade calling them kisses as if it didn’t feel like Wade was trying to fucking devour him down there, sucking and biting at his rim. 

“Gonna look so pretty when you take it for me, aren’t you?” Cocky and so damn sure of himself. 

Christ he’s trying to kill Logan. 

He ducks his head back down, humming as he works Logan open on his tongue. 

A noise that wasn’t Logan draws Wade’s attention, knowing that Logan wasn’t hearing any of it, so lost in the pleasure of Wade’s mouth already. He pulls off Logan with a slick sound and a parting lick, slipping two fingers into his hole to keep him quiet and satisfied while Wade gets up from his knees to investigate further. Pressing against Logan’s thighs he leans over his back to watch the door. The unmistakable sound of boots pacing outside of it was paired with corresponding shadows under the slit at the bottom. A figure’s shadow fell over the window on every pass. 

Logan makes a questioning sound in his throat, trying to buck into Wade’s hand, but Wade shushes him quietly, trailing his other hand up Logan’s back and into his hair. Wade strokes at his kitty ear cowlicks, angling his arm so Logan’s face was turned into his bicep. It’s clear Logan wasn’t listening to him as he sinks his fangs into the bulge of muscle and leather there, eyes closing and purr rumbling. 

“You’re such a fucking slut, oh my god,” affection and adoration coated every word out of Wade’s mouth, as if he’d called Logan ‘darling’ instead. “Lo, listen to me.” He tugs at his hair once more, drawing his attention to the door, making Logan tense. 

“We’ve got company outside that door, do you want me to stop? I work well with an audience honey badger, but this isn’t something we’ve discussed enough for me to make that call for you,” Wade says calm and clear, then pauses, watching Logan process, eyes flicking to the door where the shadow of boots and someone moving are clearly visible. There’s a thin window in the door that someone could look through and view the whole scene of the two of them. 

Logan just whines, relaxing again. What did he care if someone saw them like this? He was with Wade — no one would hurt him, even if he was vulnerable like this, bent over the table and spread wide open. Nobody would touch him, either, not without Wade attempting to murder them. And besides, maybe it would get Jean and Scott off their backs to know just how good Wade was at fucking him. Heat simmered in Logan’s gut, relishing the thought of bragging about his mate taking the best care of him; Wade was good at everything he tried and it wasn’t lost on Logan to be grateful that one of those things he picked up was loving him. 

“I don’t wanna stop, I just wanna keep going, Wade, please.” 

Wade unbuckles his own belt, tugging down the zipper impatiently to free his aching cock, lining himself up to rut between Logan’s cheeks, spreading his spit and precome on every pass. 

He doesn’t tease him long, Logan’s so worked up just for him, just from him and it’s really fucking doing it for Wade. Makes him realize how lucky he is, how grateful that he’s got such a sweet puppy to spoil. He looks up just in time to see a flash of red disappear outside the window, but the sound of boots scuff against the door and the long shadow doesn’t budge. Their voyeur is clearly staying put despite being caught. 

Grabbing at Logan’s hips he catches the head of his cock on Logan’s rim, nudging inside and then bottoming out all at once drawing a sharp, keening gasp for Logan’s throat. Logan buries his face in his arms, muffling whimpers into the table but he’s still so fucking loud, can’t help it when Wade feels so damn good. 

Wade grins, mouth leering and wide, spit-slick from eating Logan out as he makes eye contact with the person outside the door – though he knows they can’t tell with the mask on. They seem to freeze, startling at being caught like a deer in too-fast headlights, only to break the eye contact and zero in on where Wade’s driving into Logan effortlessly, snapping his hips exactly the way he likes. 

“Fucking beautiful, baby. Keep making those precious noises for me,” Wade says, and it's the only thing Logan cares about – he stopped thinking about the person outside the War Room the second he told Wade to keep going. He was always so soft, so sweet when he spoke to Logan while they fucked, the stark contrast to the harsh canting of his hips driving Logan wild with need every time. Wade leans over his back, draping himself like a blanket to murmur directly into Logan’s ear, hammering against his prostate on every slick, loud thrust. 

“Pretty, perfect puppy. Such a needy, good boy, aren’t you?” 

Logan groans, high and reedy, “yours. M’your good boy.” 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Just mine. Doesn’t matter what anyone out there hears, they’ll never get to have you like this. Take you apart like this.” And he’s right — Logan’s falling apart at the seams. Scrabbling, desperate hands claw for purchase against the slippery tabletop and he thrusts his hips back against Wade eagerly. 

“Can’t make a mess here, sweetheart — much as I’d fucking love to mark our territory,” Wade starts, pausing as the words make Logan tighten up and shake . He smirks, knowing they’d have that effect on him. “You can come in my mouth after, alright? Let me make a mess of you and then I’ll get you off, angel baby.” 

“Fuck— fuck, Wade. Yes.” 

“Good boy. Gonna ruin this perfect ass, sweetheart.” 

God, does Logan want to be ruined by him. He tries to buck harder, fucking himself back onto Wade’s cock, but the merc holds him down, pinning his hips to the table. 

Wade comes inside him with a low moan, pulling at Logan’s hair to bare his throat for Wade to sink his teeth into. Logan pushes into the bite, whining loud as fuck as he tries not to come on the spot. He presses his forehead against the table, panting wetly, fighting the burning need, desperate to be good for Wade. 

Grinding filthily to ride out his aftershocks, Wade pries his jaw open to press a sweet kiss over the healing bite mark in apology. He pulls out gently, popping a plug into Logan to replace his cock. 

Logan’s head fills with static. 

“W-where did that—,” he cuts off with a whine. Where the fuck did Wade get his plug? And Logan knows it’s his just by the feel of it, his favorite one; the perfect Deadpool red to match his collar with a yellow jewel on the end of it for him . 

“Oh, this, sweetheart?” Wade taps the end of it teasingly, “you didn’t think I just kept the boring shit in all these pouches and pockets, did you? I was a Boy Scout, peanut, and we’re always prepared.” He guides Logan to stand up, legs shaky with pleasure and cock bobbing against his stomach; he turns him around to lean his ass against the edge of the table now before dropping to his knees a second time. 

He swallows Logan down without a fuss, opening his throat and letting his puppy rut into his mouth with a whine. Logan’s hands fly to his masked face. It’s too-good, too-much, too-quick and he cries out as he comes, calling Wade’s name and spilling hotly down his throat. 

Wade swallows it all, licking over Logan’s spent cock to clean him up with soft little kitten licks, careful not to overstimulate him. He whispers praises into the soft skin of Logan’s hip while he comes down, shivering and panting. “Good puppy, that was so good. Needed that, didn’t you? Feel better now?” 

He straightens up, glancing briefly over Logan’s shoulder to find the doorway free of shadows; he can’t help the smug pride that settles in his chest as Logan nuzzles into him, fucked out and perfectly sated. Purring like a motor in Wade’s ear.

Chapter Text

They had a safe word from the beginning — Logan tended to not be the greatest at recognizing his limits and their warning signs until everything was suddenly too much and needed to stop right now, so the safe word came into play pretty quickly into their relationship. Giving Logan (and Wade, of course, it went both ways) an out and Wade the peace of mind to focus in singularity on wringing pleasure from him unless he got told to stop. 

It wasn’t until a few months into being together that Logan ended up using it. 

——

Wade had prepped him so slow and sweet, working him open on his fingers and tongue for what felt like hours wringing aching pleasure from him before he even thought about fucking him with his cock. 

Logan lost himself in it, whining and whimpering — all the pretty noises Wade was obsessed with, couldn’t get enough of. He gasps when Wade finally enters him, hovering above on strong arms that Logan wants to lick and bite at, run his tongue over the corded muscle. 

“Feel so good, Lo. Always perfect for me.” 

Hitching his legs around Wade’s waist, Logan begs him to start moving. 

It’s a slow drag at first, purely for Wade’s pleasure, drawing it out so he can feel every inch of himself bury into Logan again and again and it makes Logan’s breath hitch in the good way, knowing he’s good for Wade. He wasn’t allowed to come while Wade prepped him and he knows he gets to come now whenever he needs to, however many times he can. 

He paws at Wade’s face, drawing him in for a messy kiss, too much tongue and fangs in the way but it’s Wade’s favorite kind of kiss. Logan feels so good, Wade all around him, inside him. 

Too good , something deep in his chest reminds him. Too good and he doesn’t deserve it. 

The feeling lances through him, seering up his chest to settle like a stone over his lungs. When he whines again, this time it’s more uncomfortable than in pleasure, but Wade’s a little far gone to notice the change. Panting against Logan’s skin as he mouths across his collarbone, licking his way down his chest to tug at a nipple with his teeth. 

Panic starts to bubble in Logan, drawing him out of the moment and into his head. He doesn’t want to stop, wants Wade to keep touching him, making him feel good as he shoves the feelings down. Wade hits his sweet spot on every thrust now, taking Logan apart, precome slicking his stomach — but it’s not working, not enough to stifle the rising unease. It only serves to upset Logan more, just how much he doesn’t want to stop, but knows he needs to. 

It’s too much, his thoughts blurring and muddling the way they do right before he spirals completely — but Wade’s so warm under his hands, scars soft and delicate when he traces them. And normally the feeling would ground him, but he’s past the precipice and can’t find his way back. 

“Red,” he whimpers, “Red.” Using the colors Wade taught him, burying his face into Wade’s shoulder who stills immediately, stopping all movement but not pulling out yet, a fact that Logan greatly appreciates. “I— gotta stop, m’sorry.” 

He’s close to tears, feels the heat of them building behind his eyes and he hates it. 

“Don’t have to say sorry, sweetheart, it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay, cause I’m here. I’m gonna pull out now, alright? But I’m not going anywhere. Can I touch you?” He nods, letting Wade go to gently slip out of him, gathering Logan into his arms, instead and rolling them onto their sides. Logan burrows into him, hiding against Wade’s chest and wrapping his arms tight. He feels scarred hands pet across his back and he loses the fight, shoulders shaking as the sobs hit. He feels frozen in his fear and grief, trapped in his head when all he wanted was a nice moment in his body. 

“Oh, baby, that’s it. Let it out, I’ve got you. I’m right here, Lo.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Logan repeats, and he can’t tell if it’s to Wade or his ghosts or both, but it doesn’t exactly matter when his ears won’t stop ringing with echoes of events long over. Set in stone by time and distance, but somehow Logan’s convinced himself he can change them if he just tries hard enough. He hiccups around hyperventilating, gasping sobs that rip through his chest and hurt . Clawed hands scrabble at Wade’s back, desperate for more, more, more, even though Logan knows he was the one who asked to stop. 

Wade just shushes him, a soft and gentle noise that draws Logan out of his head a little bit, coupled with the way he cards his fingers through Logan’s hair it’s enough to ease his sobs. Logan gasps, heaving breaths as he listens to Wade’s heartbeat under his ear. There’s something instinctual to the noise, Logan doesn’t even know if Wade knows he does it; calming Logan down so sweetly with just a few syllables. 

He’s gone soft, deflated erection pressed against Wade’s hip, and it’s almost enough to set him off again, knowing he ruined his and Wade’s orgasms in the process. Wade’s no longer hard, either, trapped between his and Logan’s stomachs. But before he can whine another apology, Wade strokes a warm hand from the nape of his neck down the whole column of his spine in one long sweep. 

“Oh,” Logan whispers, barely a word, and Wade hums encouragingly, repeating the motion again, and again. It’s so soothing; sloughing off the rest of the ice that had gathered in Logan’s veins and replacing it with Wade’s warmth, like sunlight, like campfire. He cups his hand low in the small of Logan’s back, fingers pressing into the dimples there, but Logan knows it’s just for comfort — there’s no insistence, no implications to the touch. Wade’s not trying to start anything up again. Wouldn’t dream of it right now. 

“Good boy, Lo. My good boy, I’m so proud of you. Did exactly what you’re supposed to when it’s too much. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise. Just have to breathe for me. Just like that.” Wade starts to murmur praise in his ear, words slow and deliberate. But strong enough that Logan can’t argue them, won’t do anything but listen to each one as it loops in his ears, through his head. He believes him; the thought crashes down on him almost as sudden as the panic had. He believes Wade that he’s safe, that everything will be alright again. 

It’s a novelty to him, after so long, having something (some one ) to believe in again. 

Kisses over his face make Logan purr, so quiet it’s more feeling than anything, reverberating against Wade’s chest where they’re pressed so close together. The touch of Wade’s lips is feather light and sweet, across Logan’s temple and down the strong line of his nose. His lashes flutter, lulled by Wade’s voice and hands and lips and the panic is gone, but replaced with exhaustion that’s hard to stave off. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. Why don’t you rest now? I’ll be here when you wake up,” Wade says, mouth pressed to Logan’s cheek. He whines in answer, nuzzling closer, matching his breathing to the deep in and out Wade’s been practicing since they laid down like this. 

“My sweet boy, I love you.” Are the last words Logan hears before falling asleep, knowing he’s safe and that Wade will be right there when he opens his eyes next. 

He tries his best to explain what happened when he wakes up a little while later, thinking Wade deserves at least that much, but he doesn’t really have the words for it. He mumbles something out about getting lost before giving up, shaking his head so hard his kitty ear cowlicks bounce with the movement. 

Wade’s not mad, though. Not even remotely close. He just kisses Logan’s cheek, pulls his hand up to his face and kisses over his knuckles next. Sweet presses of his lips against each little scar where his claws come out and holds Logan in some way or another for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Wade’s as guilty of an optimistic streak as much as the next merc on the block, especially when it comes to Logan. Does his optimism blind him a little bit when it comes along? Totally. Does he ever recognize this fact and plan accordingly? Absolutely not. So, when his and Logan’s six month anniversary (yes, Wade counts their month anniversaries, every single one to this day) came along he thought he had just the weekend getaway planned: 

A quick little trip to an upstate campsite, complete with a cabin, lake, and fire pit for cooking whatever Logan decided to hunt that weekend. 

Sounds right up Logan’s alley, right? Yeah, Wade thought so, too. Thought he was going to get some real big best boyfriend ever brownie points. But alas, blind optimism and Wade’s own self congratulatory smugness got in the way. 

He kept the trip a surprise, telling Logan to just pack his regular clothes and climb in the truck like a good little passenger princess and Wade would take care of everything. That earned him a grumbling growl and a harsh nip to his neck in punishment, but Wade caught the shy grin Logan tried to hide when he turned away from him, and the pink blush on his ears that meant he was pleased with being teased and spoiled. Further spurring Wade’s spirits higher and higher in anticipation. 

Logan was smitten with the cabin immediately, sniffing around each room he stepped in, breathing deeply and appreciatively at the woodsy, natural scents of the wilderness. He smirked at Wade and wiggled his eyebrows when he spotted the rug next to the fireplace and was absolutely delighted at the idea of being free to hunt and provide for Wade over the long weekend when Wade showed him the fire pit in the back. 

Everything was going exactly as Wade planned until he suggested they take the boat out on the lake the next day. 

Wade knows Logan isn’t a people pleaser, fuck anyone and everything else is his general motto. But Wade’s blind optimism has him forgetting that Logan is a pack pleaser, a Wade pleaser, if you will. For Wade, he’d do anything and everything, so when Wade said he wanted to go out on the lake, Logan didn’t protest. He hesitated a fraction of a second, but made no comment or move to stop the two of them from going. 

If Wade hadn’t been so excited about it, he might have noticed the tight set of Logan’s mouth or the thrumming, anxious tension in his shoulders and neck. But since all he could think about was how great everything he planned was, he didn’t see the white knuckled grip Logan kept on the sides of the little boat. He didn’t even think to question Logan’s acceptance, caught up in the rush of doing all the previous things right. 

“This is so exciting, Lo,” Wade says as he rows the two of them, Logan refusing to move his hands from the sides. “Can you fish with your claws?” He leans over the side of the boat a little to see into the clear water, trying to spot a fish, missing the queasy look on Logan’s face. 

“Haven’t tried in a lake before,” Logan grits out, “can do it standing in a river, though.” 

“Just like a bear!” Wade gasps, whipping over to the other side of the boat in case the fish are playing hide and seek. 

“Wade—,” Logan starts, only to be interrupted by the boat lurching to one side. 

“Oops, sorry, let me just…” Wade tries to tip his weight to settle the boat, but it only succeeds in rocking them further. 

Logan’s stomach lurches, heart in his throat. He thought maybe being with Wade would have stifled some of his fear, and besides, he was dry in the boat. But the way it was rocking and Wade’s obliviousness was really starting to freak him out. He hadn’t felt cold fear like this since the lab they busted. 

“Wade, you gotta stop moving like that,” he growls lowly, only to be ignored once again as Wade tries to shift, reassuring him that he had it under control. 

“Relax, sweetheart, I’ve got it under control,” he grips the sides next to Logan’s hands, attempting to steady them. “We’re not in that deep water, anyways. I made sure. It’s only six feet or so.”

Breath catching in his throat, Logan keens around a whine, fighting to keep his eyes open. Six feet or so was still nearly his whole fucking height, and if the bed of sand beneath them was soft enough, he’d sink a few inches below that, too. 

“Hey, look! A fish! Peanut, get it!” Wade yells, lunging to one side again, like they didn’t just go through all of this a few seconds ago. The boat lurches dangerously far again, almost tipping the two of them over and Logan snaps. 

Growling harshly, he launches himself at Wade to try and get him to just fucking stop moving . His feral mind forgets about inertia, though, and their combined weight — tipping the boat the rest of the way and sending both of them crashing into the water. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck . 

Logan panics, thrashing and whimpering and desperate to keep his fucking head above water. He can’t hear over his own splashing, can barely see, and he’s struggling to breath around hyperventilating sobs. His claws shoot out to assist him and he digs them into the only thing he can think of to climb up on: Wade. 

“OUCH! Lo, fuck, what the fuck?!” Wade yelps when claws dig into his shoulder and his chest as he paddles his hands and feet to keep afloat. It clicks then, that Logan isn’t swimming, he’s sinking , unable to keep his head above the water, thrashing and crying out for help. “ Shit .” 

Logan continues to cry out, trying to climb Wade like a tree (and not in the good way), desperate, gasping puppy noises, feral like Wade hasn’t heard since the lab incident. 

“Oh, baby, it’s okay,” Wade tries to reassure him breathlessly. Fucking of course, Logan would freak out on the boat. Bad Deadpool. Stupid Deadpool. Logan couldn’t shower two days in a row most of the time, having to psych himself up for it in between, and Wade knew that. But for some reason, he’d forgotten that a massive lake was arguably fucking worse than a controlled shower in his excitement and optimism for their anniversary trip. Christ. 

If Logan stayed with him after this stunt it would be a real fucking miracle; the rest of Wade’s educated wishes combined for the rest of his too long life. 

Desperate to salvage this, Wade grabs Logan up, holding him as high out of the water as he can, shushing his snarls and growls as he backs them up to a rock on the bottom of the lake. He walks up the large rock, gaining at least seven or eight inches of height as he carries Logan with him. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you. I’m right here, it’s alright.” 

Normally, these words would work, calm Logan down even in his most feral headspace, but right now Wade’s the cause of said headspace, so Logan just snaps at him, lashing out further to beat his fists and claws against Wade’s shoulders and chest, whining pitifully and shredding the shit out of his mate in the process. 

“Logan, baby,” Wade tries weakly, wrapping Logan’s legs around his waist under the water, hiking him up so he’s settled even higher than Wade’s head and chest out of the water. 

Logan gasps and shakes in his arms, trying and failing to catch his breath and stifle his harsh sobs. Wade can’t calm him down, doesn’t even smell enough like himself to be any subconscious help; he smells like lake water and sand and algae. Not like home, like leather and gunpowder, and safety. All the warmth he associates with Wade. He doesn’t even feel like Wade; textured scars made slippery with lake water. Cold, damp, and unforgiving. 

And Logan, well, Logan’s heavy on a good day. Not that Wade’s shaming or judging him, of course not. He loves every single pound of him; it’s just that he’s a little out of practice, hasn’t quite made it a habit of carrying Logan around like this just yet, and the added soggy, soaked clothes and boots aren’t really helping the load. He shifts, adjusting Logan in his grip while he clings desperately, yelping high in his throat when he thinks Wade’s going to drop him. 

Wade fights not to slip off the rock, shushing Logan down and cringing at the force of his grip on his shoulder, clavicle bone creaking under Logan’s hands. 

“I promise I’ve got you, Logan. I’m sorry. I fucked up royally, here. I’ll make it better.” He reaches for the overturned boat, tipping it back over with a massive shove of one hand, steadying it beside them. “Peanut, you’re gonna have to try and get back in, okay?” 

He nearly has to throw a still feral minded Logan, kicking and screaming, into the righted rowboat, clambering in after him to get them back to shore. 

Logan huddles at the bottom of the boat while Wade rows them back as fast as he can, muscles aching and burning as fast as they regenerate. So upset he can’t even run his mouth, Wade just watches helplessly as Logan snarls and growls at the boat itself, hugging his arms around himself and cutting his own sides with his extended claws. 

When they bump back to shore, it takes Wade nearly a half hour to coax Logan into stepping out of the boat and onto the sand; he won’t believe Wade that it’s alright to stand up, and honestly, Wade can’t blame him. 

He tries his best to lure him out, pulling the boat as far into the sandy shore of the lake as he can carry it, assuring Logan that they’re back on land. Logan keeps shaking his head, chuffing almost to himself, still wrapped tightly sitting on the bottom of the tied up boat. 

“Come on, Lo, please? Sweetheart, you’re safe now, I promise,” Wade begs, reaching his hand out for Logan to take so he can help him out of his current position. 

Finally, blessedly, Logan leans forward, sniffing at Wade’s hand like it might hurt him, breaking the already crumbling bits of Wade’s heart further. 

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, even as Logan tries to snap at his hand. He dreads leaving him here, but something has to change before Logan will accept his help. 

Wade scrambles into the cabin, shucking his wet clothes as he goes and hurrying to find dry, clean ones. He throws on Logan’s for good measure, really stinking himself up with his own scent (he fucking hopes). 

Next, Wade grabs the lighter and fire starting supplies, running out to the fire pit to provide an area for Logan to get warm again. The water had been cold , and though Logan runs warm, Wade knows that at certain temperatures or circumstances, the metal will leach his heat and make it so he has trouble circulating it again. Christ, how did he fucking forget the water thing? 

He stokes a large fire before trying to approach Logan one more time. Carefully moving back toward the boat with his hands up and out in front of him. 

Logan peeks at him over the lip of the boat, puppy eyes wide and worried, so fucking heartbreakingly adorable. He’s still soaked, hair dripping rivulets down his face and he’s still trembling just barely. 

“Hey, sweetheart, let’s try this again, okay?” Wade soothes with his voice, holding out his hand to Logan once more. This time, draped in one of Logan’s own sweaters, he registers as safe . 

Logan whimpers, soft and mournful, sniffing and leaning into Wade’s hand; he grips the edge of the boat to lean his chest against it, still wary of leaving. 

“That’s it, peanut, come on.” Gently, gently coaxing forward until he’s close enough to scoop Logan up, Wade keeps forward. 

He doesn’t get bit or scratched this time, the fight draining out of Logan as soon Wade’s hands make contact with him. He cries one last pitiful sound before all but collapsing in Wade’s arms. 

Stumbling just a little, Wade carries him to sit by the fire, keeping Logan held close in his lap. He buries his chilly face into the crook of Wade’s neck, clutching desperately onto his sweater. 

Wade snags the blanket he brought out earlier, gently guiding Logan to sit up so he can slip his wet tank top off of him. He works Logan’s jeans and boots off, too, cringing at the soaked denim. They’re the only two around and Logan will dry off quicker out of his clothing. He wraps Logan up in the blanket, huddling it around his shoulders and hips, scrubbing his hands over his limbs to generate friction and more heat. 

He nearly cries in relief when Logan starts to just barely purr at the attention, a small, quiet rumble in his throat at the feel of Wade touching him all over. 

Nuzzling closer, Logan slowly starts to calm down, coming back to himself. He kicks his legs a little in Wade’s lap, wiggling awareness back into his freezing feet. Wade tries to help him out, stroking his palms over his calves and shins to rub warmth back into them. 

“M’sorry,” is the first word out of Logan’s mouth when he’s able to talk again. It takes everything in Wade not to combust on the spot, throw himself (and Logan off his lap, by extension) onto his knees and beg forgiveness, demand to know why Logan thinks he’s the one that should be sorry. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Logan. It’s my fault, I got you on the boat and then I couldn’t just sit still and rocked it into tipping over. And I knew you were still bothered by the water, I swear , I just—,” Wade heaves a shaky breath. “I think I just got caught up in how happy I fucking was that we’ve been together for this long already. I kind of forgot who we were for a moment. I’m sorry, Logan.” 

He braces himself for the end now, for Logan to tell him to fuck off because who the fuck does something like that? 

“I should’ve said ‘no’,” Logan says quietly. “I knew it was gonna bother me and I should’ve said ‘no’, but you were so excited and I didn’t want to be afraid. I’m sorry I hurt you. Sorry I freaked out again, too.” 

Wade cards his fingers through Logan’s hair, cupping his head back down against his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. It’s not.” 

They sit by the fire in silence for a long while as Logan’s breathing continues to even out. Dread coils tighter in Wade’s stomach with every passing second, but he doesn’t dare talk first or interrupt what he can only imagine is Logan practicing his break up speech. Until— 

“D’you bring s’more stuff?” Logan asks, pressing his nose into the hollow of Wade’s bobbing throat. 

“What?” He croaks, thinking he’s misheard him. 

“I want a s’more. Did you bring stuff? S’a nice fire.” Logan repeats. 

Incredulous, Wade laughs, “yeah. Yeah I fucking did, peanut. Got different candies to try out, too. Peanut butter cups and peppermint patties. Regular chocolate bars, too, but those are boring.” 

“Classic,” Logan argues, kissing the hinge of Wade’s jaw and it feels like forgiveness, like acceptance. Wade can’t fight the tears this time around. “Regular chocolate is classic.” 

“Old man,” Wade chokes out around his tears, “you’re so old fashioned.” He tightens his arms around Logan’s waist, afraid if he lets him go that he won’t ever come back. 

Looping his arms around Wade’s neck, Logan huffs good naturedly, “I like what I like. Sue me.” 

Wade doesn’t think they’re talking about s’mores anymore. He kisses Logan’s temple, rubbing his back a few times before helping him stand up off his lap. He takes Wade’s hand when he’s up, following him into the cabin to collect their s’mores stuff. 

He lets Wade convince him to cook the marshmallows on his claws, holding them over the fire after piercing them on just the tips. Wade assembles the treats while Logan shakes his hand out to cool the metal off. 

At some point, amid listening to Logan’s laugh and kissing the chocolate off his nose that he somehow managed to get there after a particularly uncoordinated and gooey, melty bite, Wade’s stomach unclenches — he stops bracing himself for Logan to walk away or get mad at him. He just cuddles Logan close under one of his arms, letting his purr rattle his own ribcage.

Chapter Text

The Noise hadn’t stopped all fucking day. There were renovations going on in one of the apartments around theirs — hammering and sawing and the stomping feet of working men coming in and out. A cacophony of the most grating, startling series of noises possible. 

Logan was in hell. 

It was a time they were all home: Al, Wade, Mary, and Logan all crammed together in the small apartment while the walls shook every once in a while with the sounds next door. Winter was in full swing, effectively snowing them all in for the day as flurries accumulated outside. 

Al kept trying to shout over the noise, TV turned up to damn near it’s max volume because it was the only way she could enjoy it and Wade just encouraged her, shouting responses back, oblivious to the way Logan winced every time. 

It wasn’t their fault, Logan kept trying to remind himself, drinking a too large glass of whatever alcohol he picked out of the cabinet to try and calm down. He didn’t even look, just poured straight with a slightly shaky hand, breathing through the pulse of his senses. 

Hours of the incessant, unpredictable noise had him on edge, hackles raised and senses going haywire. He felt trapped, hunted, hurt . Everything hurt . 

His ears hurt, his head hurt, his skin where the fabric of his clothes met it hurt. Even the dim, shitty light of the apartment lamps as evening set hurt his eyes. He felt rubbed raw and aching. 

Logan’s zoned out on the couch, fists clenched as he tries desperately to keep his cool, to keep his claws tucked away. Vaguely, amid the ringing tension in his ears, he registers that Wade and Al are shouting at each other again. 

Suddenly Wade is in front of his vision, trying to say something to him, reaching a hand out to cup his face like he always does when Logan’s a little spacey; a gentle caress to ground him, guide him back down to earth. 

Wade had noticed Logan withdraw all day, slowly getting quieter and quieter, of course he did. What he didn’t know was the reason why, or why Logan hadn’t come to him for help. His honey badger had been staring off into space for a solid twenty minutes by the time Wade decided it was time to try and do something about whatever was bothering Logan. 

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s been goin’ on with you?” He asks, but it’s clear Logan isn’t hearing him. Wade reaches his hand out to brush a thumb over Logan’s cheek, but before he can make contact, the worst happens. 

Logan flinches from him. 

Like a scared, wounded animal, Logan cowers back into the couch away from Wade’s hand, squinting his eyes tightly shut. He pulls his arms up close to his face to protect himself, though his claws stay tucked inside his forearms. 

Wade feels bile rise up in his throat; Logan has never, ever rejected his touch like that before. Has never flinched from him even when they were trying to kill each other. 

“Baby?” Wade whispers, breath caught in his throat. But Logan just winces further, a whine slipping from his lips like he can’t control it. “Please? Let me help, let me make it better?” 

Hammering starts next door again and Logan whines louder, covering his ears. He pushes past Wade’s hovering form with his shoulder, nudging him out of the way to bolt to their bedroom. Logan can hear Wade calling for him, and Althea asking what’s wrong but he can’t focus on answering either of them, not when everything seems to hurt so bad. 

The thought of Wade touching him made him want to sob, guilt doubling the ache because it’s Wade and he should be the exception, but he isn’t, not to Logan’s oversensitive, overstimulated nervous system right now. Any kind of touch would feel like a brand, like fire on his nerves. 

Logan hiccups, pacing around their room — the blinds are drawn and the sun is setting so it’s blessedly dark, though Logan can still see quite clearly in it, the lack of sunlight or artificial light is a small relief on at least one of his senses. 

The tag on his shirt grates his neck when he turns so he snarls, practically shredding the fabric in his haste to rip it off over his head. The heavy cotton being both a comfort and a pain, depending on what his senses needed at the moment.  

He stumbles when Wade follows him into the room, backing up until his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he collapses onto it, scrambling toward the far wall — as far from Wade as he can get in the small bedroom. He can’t bear the look on Wade’s face again if he refuses to allow him to comfort him with touch. 

It’s not Wade’s fault, and it’s not really Logan’s, either, that he can’t explain at the moment. Can’t move his jaw to make the words come out. 

Instead, he pulls his knees up to his chest, shaking his head roughly back and forth; a ‘no’ clear as day. The only sounds he can make out of his mouth are pitiful, desperate whimpers of pain. 

Wade stops on a dime, not advancing any further into the room at all, hands held up in surrender. He barely breathes, watching Logan in a frozen state. Paralyzed with the knowledge that he can’t seem to help him. 

He runs through all of Logan’s known triggers, treating this like a mission, a hit. He catalogues and organizes all the information he knows on Logan’s trauma and their responses in rapid succession in his head. 

He didn’t shower or bathe yet today, so Wade figured it wasn’t water; he hadn’t been near any medical equipment or even watched a medical drama on TV, either, so that was out as well. 

And Logan looked aware at the moment, so Wade knew he wasn’t dealing with his feral puppy right now. 

The sound of a drill whirrs to life this time, right next to Logan’s head on the other side of too-thin walls and Logan howls , grabbing for Wade’s pillow to throw over his head in a poor attempt at muffling the sound. 

Fucking of course , the goddamn noise. With Logan’s hearing, it probably felt like every blow of the hammer was directly against his eardrums and skull. But Wade’s realization has come too late; if Logan’s already this worked up and upset, there’s really nothing he can do except wait a safe, harmless distance away from Logan until things calm down and his senses relax. 

Wade hadn’t given it a second thought, noise and Wade were practically synonymous; two peas in the same annoying, overactive pod. Wade was noise, and any level of it never seemed to have any affect on him. 

Defeated, Wade slumps against the bedroom door, sliding down to the floor to just sit and watch over Logan while he cries quietly into the bedsheets, curled up in a miserable ball. Silent tears and a heaving rib cage. 

Eventually, the noise stops in the next apartment over, going quiet for the night — Wade slips out of their room on silent feet to turn Al’s show volume down. Whispering to her that maybe she can try knitting the dog a sweater or something else that doesn’t require sound. She flips him off at the suggestion, but complies anyway, grabbing her supplies from the basket next to her chair. 

When Wade returns to their room, Logan is still huddled like a frightened turtle, hunched over on his knees with his forehead pressed to the bed. He’s loosened his grasp on the pillow, allowing it to slip and fall off his head, slumping between Logan and the wall. His breathing has evened out, though Wade can tell he’s still awake — too tense to really rest. 

Wade doesn’t speak, wary of hurting Logan again, doesn’t reach for him, either, though everything in him is calling for him to touch. He settles beside Logan on the bed, careful to keep a few inches between them and just. Sits. Waits. 

He fights the urge to comfort Logan every time he so much as twitches. Logan’s fingers curl and uncurl in a rhythmic pattern near Wade’s leg until finally, finally he inches his hand forward, barely brushing his fingertips against Wade’s pant leg. 

Wade breathes a heavy sigh of relief, still biting his tongue despite the barrage of questions he wants to ask, like why and what . 

Instead, he moves his own hand, slowly, so slowly as to not startle Logan, placing it palm up within reach of Logan’s own trembling fingers. After a while, Logan moves his hand again, sliding it over to lay his fingers over Wade’s palm. He falls asleep like that, able to relax fully with that one point of contact, just the slightest touch of Wade’s scarred skin against his four fingertips. Really the only amount he could handle for the night. Still feeling raw, overexposed. 

In the morning he’ll explain, and Wade will listen carefully, assured that he shouldn’t take Logan’s rejection to heart; that it wasn’t about him personally, but about his senses going crazy. And Wade will quietly gather helpful things for the next time something like this rears its ugly head — blackout sheets for the windows, heavy duty noise cancelling headphones, and he makes it a personal mission to find a fabric that won’t hurt Logan in that state. 

Right now, though, Wade just curls his own fingers gently around Logan’s, holding his hand loosely as he watches over his sleeping form. Alert for any further signs of pain or discomfort. Vigilant and protective.

Chapter Text

Hank was fuming — completely, unadulteratedly fuming through clenched fangs and flared nostrils. 

“How,” he growls, “in the ever-loving fuck do you keep winning?!” 

Across the chess set from him, Wade bats eyelashes he doesn’t have, as innocent as he can manage. 

“Whatever do you mean, Doc? We’re just having fun, aren’t we?” A sly smirk spread across Wade’s face in slow motion; the same smirk that riled Logan and Laura up every time they had family game night and Wade was obliterating them. The part-time merc was scarily good at all kinds of games. The only ones Logan could ever win were older card games and even that was hit or miss. 

“Language,” Laura mutters, coming to stand behind Wade and hang off his shoulders, slumping forward to rest against his back. He catches her weight easily, bringing his hands up to hold onto her forearms draped over him, his fingertips automatically trace the channel of her claws to check for any discomfort or pain. It’s almost an unconscious habit at this point. “Are you two done?” 

Wade looks to Hank for his answer, the blue mutant shaking his head solemnly. “Absolutely not.” His mane tousles with the force of his movement and the breeze passing through the Howletts’ backyard. 

He and Wade have played three games of chess seated on the back porch for the last forty five minutes and Wade’s won every one, watching with increasing delight as Hank’s frustration reached fever pitch, blue cheeks tingeing purple with blush. 

He sets up the board once more as Laura harasses Wade. 

“When’s dad coming back?” She nearly whines, flexing her fists as Wade’s assessment of her sheathed claws turns tickling. 

“I dunno for sure, baby badger,” he answers, grinning at her grumbling growl of protest, sounding so much like Logan’s own. Her hair falls over her face when she ducks her head down, shorter after Wade had cut it with the kitchen scissors a few weeks ago and bright with the last streaks of the summer sun warming the yard. The color of her locks shifted with the light just like Logan’s, too, gold and brown and reddish strands highlighted as she moves. 

Hank clears his throat, the board reset. 

“Why don’t you watch me beat Hanky Panky one more time?” Wade winks at her as Beast rolls his eyes. 

“Is he really beating you that badly?” She clambers around the table to sit next to Hank on the loveseat. He leans back and opens his arm up, allowing her to tuck in close and peer curiously at the board before they start. Hank rumbles in answer, growl reverberating through his chest but Laura sticks her tongue out at him, knowing he’d never harm her. 

“Your move, white,” Beast says to Wade, holding up a paw when Wade opens his mouth to make some joke about not seeing color. Laura giggles at the two of them. 

She dissolves into silence though as soon as Wade makes his first move, watching raptly the succession of moves that follows. Curling around Hank’s right arm while he plays with his left hand, maneuvering pieces so quickly his claws click against the wooden pawns. 

“So, tell me, Blue — what’s got your fur all ruffled lately, huh?” Wade asks absently, trailing his knight across the board. “Seems like you’re wound up real tight. About to snap.” 

Fisting the rook in his hand, Hank curls his lip, “Wade, I am not—” the piece snaps in two as if on cue, broken from his clenched fist. 

Devastated, Beast begins to blubber immediately, “I’m terribly sorry. I’ll fix this, I promise. Or, or buy you a whole new set — something expensive — to replace it.” He pauses, considering, “Tell me this isn’t the set Logan made? I’ll simply die. There’s really no words, please forgive me.” 

Wade sits stunned for a moment, jaw dropped. He’s annoyed a myriad of people in his life, so he knows distinctly that this outburst is patently not his fault. Hank usually takes Wade’s teasing as well as Logan does anymore. Before he can start consoling him, Laura beats Wade to it. 

She uncurls Hank’s trembling fingers, placing the two pieces on the table and holding his massive paw in her smaller hands, “it’s okay. He won’t yell at you. It was an accident. And even if it wasn’t, he still won’t yell at you — I know, I’ve tried lots of things that should have gotten me yelled at.” Laura pats at his forearm, purring gently and bunting her forehead against his shoulder. “Or worse,” she mumbles to herself. 

He gapes at her like a stranded fish, chest heaving until she drops his hand and presses his water glass at him. Hank takes it automatically, only realizing she means for him to drink from it when she guides his arm up, just like her dads do when she’s upset. 

Logan chooses at that moment to amble out of the tree line of the forest at the edge of their backyard, nose to the ground as he tracks scent after scent through the lawn. He’d trecked off this morning in full puppy mode with a kiss to Wade’s cheek and an excited wiggle of his hips intent on exploring the grounds. 

Wade can see the moment he realizes they’re all waiting for him, going stock still, coiled tight like a spring before releasing at a full sprint toward the porch on all fours. He skids across the soft grass, lunging to skip all four steps. 

Careening into Wade’s side, he jumps at him and whines, covering his face in puppy kisses. Wade tries to wrap him in his arms, thinking he wants held but Logan squirms away to reach Laura next. 

She leans down to knock their foreheads together, grinning as Logan purrs and nuzzles her with his nose — he’s always been so gentle with her, even like this. Makes the way he calls her ‘cub’ extra comforting, knowing it’s ingrained into him to care for her. 

Hank isn’t spared a greeting, either; Logan rounds the table and behind Wade again to get to the other side of the loveseat and sit by his knee, eyes sparkling and purr rumbling. Beast holds his hand out for Logan to inspect, sniffing him thoroughly but moreso from curiosity than needing to confirm he’s friendly. Satisfied with his inspection, Logan whines, starting to try and climb onto the loveseat with Hank and Laura. 

He ends up mostly in Hank’s lap between them, contently beaming at Wade across the table and batting at the chess pieces in front of him.  

“Hi, Lo,” Wade grins right back, admiring. “Have a good romp?” There’s twigs in his hair and dirt smeared all over him. He pants a little, attempting to stick his face in Hank’s water glass that was hastily set down when Logan started gearing up to jump on them. Lapping up the water makes a complete mess, dripping down his chin from his beard onto Hank’s dress pants. 

Wordlessly, he retrieves his handkerchief from his pocket, making sure to keep one hand steadying Logan’s precarious position half perched in his lap, and helps him dry his face. When it becomes too much, Logan paws at his hand and pushes him away with a grumble. 

Sensing that Logan’s about two seconds from forgetting that he can’t nip at Hank without hurting him, Wade interferes, pursing his lips and making a kissing noise. “Lo? Can I have a kiss?” 

The grumbling growl cuts off instantly as Logan scrambles from the loveseat to answer Wade’s call like he always does; any time Wade asks for a kiss, Logan drops everything to comply anyway, but it’s especially apparent when he’s a puppy. Wade meets him halfway, springing up from his chair to catch Logan up in his arms and submit to the onslaught of kisses he licks all over his face. He steals his own kiss to the freckles on Logan’s temple, lips pressed to his wishing stars while Logan chuffs one of his newer puppy noises quietly. Landing somewhere between a whine and a yip. 

Accident averted. But Hank looks a little devastated at the loss, eyes shiny and sad. Something more lurks just under the surface, but Wade doesn’t think he’s ever seen it on Hank so he can’t be certain of what it is. It looks a bit like jealousy, though. 

Logan’s still full of energy, squirming impatiently in Wade’s hold. He drops down to the floor of the porch again, ambling over to Laura all faux nonchalance, tipping his head away like he’s not stalking her. Looking anywhere but her, he sidles closer and closer. If this were a cartoon, Wade muses to himself, Logan would be full on whistling. 

He and Hank share an amused look while Laura plays the part, knowing the game well by now. When Logan tags her, bopping her with curled fingers much like a paw, he takes off running off the porch, knowing she’ll follow after him. She growls playfully back at him, launching from the porch on his heels. 

The sounds of Logan’s excited whines fill the air as she chases him, circling and zigzagging around the garden until she leaps, tackling him down. The two of them roll, Logan keeping an arm under Laura’s head so she doesn’t bump it, until they come to a stop with her pinned under him, laughing breathlessly. He bumps their foreheads together, then rolls off onto his own back, exposing his belly to show her it’s her turn. 

She gleefully pins him down, laying across his ribs like a pro wrestler. Tapping him out on the grass with a loud one, two, three smacking her hand in succession. When the count is over he springs back up, happy as can be that his cub knows the rules of their game so well. 

Wade watches Hank watch them, that same look on his face, furry shoulders tense. 

“Hey, blue? Why don’t you join ‘em?” He suggests softly, nudging his bare foot across the soft deck of the porch toward the blue mutant. “Logan loves playing with a group, doesn’t get the chance too often.” It’s hard for the three of them to wrestle together sometimes, Logan’s instincts get muddled between them and he thinks Wade might be actually trying to hurt Laura (he never is, of course, but he doesn’t like to overstress Logan’s headspace like that). Or vice versa, that Laura could actually end up hurting Wade. 

Hank thins his lips, considering. It’s been harder and harder to remain so straightlaced and uptight through all the events that have occurred recently. He feels out of place, stifled in his dress shirt and pants like a poor disguise. 

Snarling without realizing it, Hank reveals his fangs as Laura jumps onto Logan’s back with a loud purring growl, biting at his shoulder. Logan plays it up, howling and falling to his knees like he’s wounded, rolling over onto Laura but being careful — both Wade and Hank realize — to only settle a portion of his weight onto her in the process. 

He starts to race in circles around a sprawled out, giggling Laura, coming in close to bop at her with his hand and then retreating before she can retaliate. It reminds Wade of playing with a baby, the way she shriek-laughs and squirms. If he had ovaries they’d be demanding to get Logan pregnant later, (cause that’s how that works, right?) 

“I can’t, Wade,” Hank cuts through his fantasies. 

Wade whips his head toward him, “what do you mean? Isn’t this like the obstacle course?” 

Hank coughs uncomfortably, tearing his eyes from Laura and Logan. “No. This is much more instinctual, with distinct social cues. The obstacle course has more structure, a set path, beginning and end. Rules. I’ve never really indulged in this kind of interaction before. There was never really anyone—,” he cuts himself off with a soft shake of his head. He didn’t have a Wade who would foster his instincts and god knows James was as tightlaced about his own habits of his mutation as Hank himself is.  

Taking a first step toward the father and daughter pair may be one of the hardest things Hank convinces himself to do, but the rest come easy after that. He’s halfway off the steps before he realizes it, drawing Logan’s careful attention as he plants himself between Hank and Laura automatically. It’s not overly defensive, merely subconsciously protective in the natural, easy way Logan always carries himself around her — ever aware of her relation to him in space. 

Logan sits expectantly on his haunches as Hank approaches, trying and somewhat failing to keep his posture open and friendly as anxiety swirls in his gut at the risk of fucking this interaction up. 

“Logan, my boy,” Hanks starts, voice barely shaking but he smiles with his fangs in what he hopes is a playful grin and not a threat. Wiggling, Logan braces low before launching himself up at Hank, pushing at his waist and his hip until Hank submits, falling on his ass to the grass near Laura. He lands with a soft oof, sprawling back to catch himself on his hands and lean back, waiting to figure out the rules of whatever game Logan’s playing. 

It’s apparently a bit of a herding instinct at play, evident by the way Logan circles the pair, nudging at their arms and shoulders every so often if they move out of place. He darts over to the porch, snagging Wade’s t-shirt with his teeth and pulling him into the herd, too. Wade follows willingly, dopey lovestruck smile on his face as he plops obediently next to Laura. 

Logan looses a howl and circles them another time, satisfied with his efforts until Hank moves like he’s going to get up and Logan tackles him down with a warning growl. The action grates at Hank’s own instincts, makes him want to put up a fight and play along. He growls right back, grappling with Logan in the grass. 

They swipe and snap at each other, Logan losing the aggressive edge quickly when he realizes Hank is perfectly willing to show his belly or his vulnerable throat when he’s pinned. He never releases his claws, but his snarl softens into a playful grin instead of the vicious baring it had been at first. 

Pinning Hank down by his shoulders, Logan rumbles happily as the blue mutant goes limp, tipping his head back. Knowing he won that round, Logan releases him to give Hank space to sit up and then slips from his grasp before it’s his turn to pin Logan. He runs away, taunting Hank into chasing him. 

Dropping down onto all fours himself — still unfamiliar for Beast despite how comfortable it could be with practice — he gives into Logan’s taunt and takes off after him into the woods behind the house. 

Something shifts as Hank lets himself run; anxieties and concerns slipping from his shoulders while he focuses instead on the way the dirt pounds under his hands and feet, the way the smells of the forest and of Logan in front of him guide his movements. The sight of the trees and rocks slipping by in a pleasant green-grey blur as he catches up to the Wolverine. 

With a roar of his own, Hank lunges forward to wrap his arms around Logan and drag him into the dirt. He wrestles him down, driving his shoulder into Logan’s sternum as the other tries to bat him away, pawing at Hank’s face. 

Logan laughs breathlessly, hiccuping around a faux growl but letting Hank have this round. He snaps his teeth a few times but otherwise remains docile, relaxing back so Hank knows he’s not really fighting him. He’s just having fun. 

All Hank can focus on in the moment is the easy push and pull they fall into, his head going quiet and a little fuzzy as instincts he’s long tried to bury guide him. Without thinking, a purr bursts to life in his chest, rumbling loud amid the trees and Logan’s own growls and happy puppy noises.   

They spend the next hour chasing each other back and forth, climbing trees and splashing through the stream that cuts through the forest that Logan’s taken to digging around the bank of. Hank’s poor dress shirt ends up shredded and discarded, his pants torn up around his ankles reminiscent of the Hulk, Wade comments when they tumble back to the house. 

Logan lopes ahead, leading the way while Hank walks upright behind him, bone deep satisfaction emanating from them both. Exhaustion chases Hank’s heels, but he’s never felt more settled and comfortable with himself. Sore in new ways, having used muscles and aspects of his mutation that he’s never attempted before. 

He almost can’t answer when Wade asks how he’s doing, struggling to form words and sentences in this more animalistic headspace. Hank opens and closes his mouth a few times, only quite managing a soft grunt in reply. 

Accustomed to Logan and his own nonverbal communication, Wade waves his distressed look off, “no worries, Blue, why don’t you settle down for a bit?” He directs Hank into the living room, telling him to stay put while he gathers snacks and drinks in the kitchen, Logan at his side. 

Hank can hear them talking, voices carrying in the quiet house. 

“Hi, puppy,” Wade coos, “had fun with Beastie, didn’t you?” He runs his fingers through Logan’s cowlicks in a vain attempt at sorting his unruly hair out. “I think you really helped him out today. Poor guy needed that.” 

Logan just whines in answer, leaning his weight against Wade’s thigh, the day's activities catching up to him. He wants to make a nest and pass out in it for a few hours, already thinking about which pillows and blankets to steal. He knows he wants Wade’s from their bed, and the cushion Laura likes to use when she reads in her studio. He leaves Wade to his task and wanders through the house to snatch up the items he wants, carrying one of the blankets from their room down the stairs in his teeth. 

Hank watches him work, sipping lemonade and slowly coming back to himself. He’d thought, once upon a time, that giving into his instincts so vividly would only cause him pain. Held a deep seated fear that letting his animal side “win” would result in losing the other parts of himself entirely. 

Sitting on the worn couch in the Howlett’s house on that lazy, warm evening, he doesn’t feel any panic or disgust with himself. 

He takes another drink, letting the cold and the sugar rejuvenate him, solidifying the fact that he’s never felt more sure of himself, or more connected to his place in the world. 

He just wishes it hadn’t taken so long or such pain to find it.