Chapter Text
Logan came to with his claws buried in Wade’s abdomen.
He blinked rapidly, panting, struggling to focus his vision on the pattern print of Wade’s shirt. Blood began to seep out of the wound around his knuckles when he moved, and he stared at it in confusion, the dream still clinging to his subconscious.
“Morning, peanut,” Wade said. “Could you maybe pull your claws out of my side? I kinda have to pee, and you are very close to stabbing my bladder. If we get any more blood or piss on the mattress, we are not going be able to save it.”
“Fuck,” Logan swore. Panic climbed up his throat.
He retracted his claws and grabbed Wade’s shoulders, still half in the dream, realizing he was going to die and then remembering Wade was just like him and he couldn’t fucking die, thank fuck.
“Wade,” he panted. His heart was a jackhammer in his chest. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
While Wade lunged for something to press into the now gushing wound, Logan moved to the edge of the bed. He stood and paced in front of it, rubbing a hand over his face, still panting. A glance at the clock showed it was 0600 hours.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Logan said. He exhaled shakily. “Shit.”
“Hey, it’s all right,” Wade said with his usual cheer. Hand holding the bath towel to his side, he sat cross-legged and faced Logan on the bed. “God’s best joke, right? I can’t die. It’s no biggie.”
Logan couldn’t calm down his breathing. He closed his eyes, something weak snapping inside him.
“I’m gonna need you to not fucking say that anymore,” he said, and knew he sounded angry. He rubbed shaking hands over his face. Flashes of waking up and stabbing Rogue perforated his mind. Scratching his dead ex-girlfriend’s arms. Every night he used to pray so fucking hard that he wouldn’t end up killing her. Some nights he barely slept.
It was hitting him harder than it usually did.
“This isn’t the first time either of us has woken up screaming,” Wade said, sounding curious and a little concerned. He watched Logan pace. “What’s wrong, buttercup?”
“I just…need you to not say that again. What I said to you. ‘God’s best joke.’ I can’t fucking stand it!”
Wade was quiet for a moment. A bird stood outside their window, landing, then flying away, only to return. Wade had insisted on putting out birdfeed to ‘enhance their view’. All it did was get bird shit on the windowsill.
“Then I won’t. I’m not trying to hold it over your head, you know,” Wade said, his tone light.
“I know.” Logan said, quieter now. “It’s not that—I just can’t stand I said that to you. That I acted that way. Fuck.”
Logan lurched towards the window, opening it and sticking his head out into the icy air. He heard Wade shift and bounce to the edge of the bed behind him without much sound. His feet padded across the carpet and onto the tile of the bathroom.
After they slept together what was now weeks ago, they continued to, well, sleep together. They didn’t often end up in bed together by night’s end, mostly because Wade had started leaving at night, donning his Deadpool suit and disappearing until early morning. When Logan asked where Wade went, he didn’t sound like he was lying, but he wasn’t specific.
“I’m going to fuck shit up. Maybe a few people, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s Honey I Shrunk the Kids all over again, but the kids are doing the shrinking. Gotta find those fuckers before they get any more lost.” He’d inspect his katanas before deeming them satisfactory and sheathing them. “Don’t worry, my little peanut-brittle, I’ll be back in time for our Golden Girls marathon in the morning. I’ll need the release after handling Bea and Arthur all night long.”
Logan had eyed his suit, resisting the urge to ask how he managed to get it so clean. Somehow Wade had even gotten Logan’s back to its pristine condition for him, but Logan hadn’t been able to put it on yet.
He used to wear it all the time, but now he could barely look at it.
While Logan got lost in his thoughts, enjoying the winter air, Wade came out of the bathroom and said, “I’m making pancakes this morning.”
When he walked away, Logan pulled a cigar out of the drawer and started smoking, still hovering by the window. Usually, he tried not to smoke inside, but he just needed something to do with his hands. That dream wouldn’t let go of him.
Rubbing his chest, Logan glanced at the bed and swore. Wade had managed to catch most of it, but blood flecked the area near where Logan had stabbed him.
First thing they did when he moved into his room was buy a bigger, better mattress. It wasn’t brand new by any means, but Logan had solid work now that didn’t take him too far, and it absolutely was worth it. He tore apart the old mattress himself.
He hadn’t moved out yet, mostly because he was stalling on making any kind of decision. Logan knew it, and Wade knew it.
“You know, if you keep smoking in here, we’re not getting back our deposit,” Wade said from the doorway.
Logan chuckled around his cigar. “It reeked of old smoke before I got here, bub.”
Wade dipped out of the room and left him to get ready. Logan stayed until all that remained of his cigar was the hot cherry before he turned around. At least he hadn’t torn through the sheets.
After ripping the sheets off the bed and treating them for the blood, he walked out of the room and found Wade finishing up breakfast. He had removed his shirt and wore only a colorful fanny pack and pair of boxers that said ‘CREEPY across one asscheek and ‘CUTE’ across the other in all caps. The smell of pancakes cooking hit Logan hard.
Althea was already seated at the table conversing with Wade, despite the early hour. Logan walked up and patted Wade’s naked back on his way to the coffee maker. He gave his ass a squeeze for good measure.
“Oh! Hello, handsome. You want chocolate in your pancakes?” Wade asked him.
“Eh, I’m not the biggest fan of chocolate in pancakes,” Logan replied. “Maple syrup’s all I need.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Wade said, around a mouthful of chocolate chips. “Chocolate is amazing! I already put it in the batter, so that was your first boyfriend test, and you already completely fucking failed.” He pulled his phone out of his pack and started typing with one hand. “You’re being put into remediation.”
Logan shook his head and sipped his coffee. He nudged Wade with a foot. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Suck my cock,” Wade said around an even bigger mouthful.
“So, you two are actually dating?” Althea sounded curious, maybe a little pleased. “Good for you. I didn’t know you had it in you,” she said to Wade.
“Me neither!” Wade said cheerily. He took his plate full of pancakes off the stove and set them down. “I don’t know what the fuck happened.” Gesturing vaguely with a pancake he grabbed bare-handed, he sat down and added, "I’m almost positive I gave Logan brain damage during our stabby tête-à-tête.”
“Hey,” Logan said in warning, poking Wade with his foot again.
To Logan Althea said, “watch out for that one.”
Logan smiled at her instinctively and walked up behind Wade. He laid one palm on his right shoulder. The other he braced on the table next to him on his left, caging him in.
“How did your appointment go yesterday?” he asked.
Wade chewed his food for a long, long thirty seconds. Logan waited.
After rolling another hot pancake like a burrito and shoving the whole thing in his mouth, Wade finally replied a full minute later, “How’s your fourth week of sobriety?”
Logan rubbed his hand up and down Wade’s arm. “You said you’d meet this one.”
“Yeah, and you said you’d look at the list I came up with for you. It’s a google doc, and I can see that you haven’t viewed it. Sorry, Al. Hear that you haven’t viewed it.”
“Right.” Logan quickly kissed the top of Wade’s head and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll look later, okay?”
“You hear what he does, Althea?” Wade said as Logan picked up a few jacks and threw them on a plate. Wade waved at him as he sat down. “He acts all fucking sweet out of nowhere and tries to distract me from all the promises he’s breaking. And it works. Fuck!”
“That is entirely not my problem. Do not involve me,” she said, holding up a hand. Wade huffed and ate another pancake more sedately.
For a while, the only sounds were the three of them eating. Wade started fiddling with his plate, tense in a way Logan recognized it meant he was about to say something.
“You know, you don’t even have to see the X-Peeps to reveal that you’re alive. A well-placed instagram post or a viral TikTok will do the job for you!” Wade said. He pointed his fork at Logan. “Your account would be all close ups of your face from that angle straight men take all their pictures at. Also, we should do it before the X-Beast smells you on me.”
“Beast? You said you don’t see him much, so he won’t. His sense of smell isn’t as good as mine.”
Wade popped a stray chocolate chip in his mouth. “Huh.”
Other than official bodies and Laura—and Wade’s Twitter followers that were continually puzzled by mentions of Wolverine that they assumed was a pet animal of some kind—nobody else knew he was ‘alive’. Or reclaiming his identity or what-the-fuck-ever they were calling it.
Logan was so fucking grateful (and guilty—don’t forget guilty) that he could walk down the streets and people didn’t see the Wolverine that was an enemy to mutants and humans alike, but trying to figure out how to make a life he didn’t know he could have happen while having to face all the people he left behind in his other world paralyzed Logan to the point that he had just…stopped.
Logan took a deep pull of his coffee and didn’t care it burned on the way down his throat. He set his mug down, glancing at Wade.
He thought that was the end of whatever Wade was mulling over, but then he suddenly slapped his fork down on the table, startling both Logan and Althea.
“Why am I the only one here expected to put myself through talking to some stranger about my problems?” he said. “Do you remember what you said, Logan?”
“I never said you were,” Logan said. He patted around his chest until he found his reading glasses and slipped them on his face to look at his phone. “I remember. I said I’ll look, didn’t I?”
“I’ll go to fucking therapy when you get therapy,” Wade said with a decisive stab of his fork. “Then maybe you’ll stop stabbing me in your sleep.”
Logan glanced up over his glasses at Wade. He didn’t say anything, and Wade met his eyes, widening his slightly in challenge as he chewed.
“That’s not fucking funny,” Logan said.
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Both of you need to grow the fuck up,” Althea said, crossing her arms. “You’re afraid of talking to some shrinks?”
“I’m not afraid,” Logan said. “I just don’t need that kind of help.”
Wade hummed angrily while he kept chewing. Eventually he breathed out and spread his hands flat on the table.
“I was thinking we could pick up Dogpool—Mary Puppins, that is—this week. Tomorrow, actually. Bring her back where she belongs.” Wade shrugged his shoulders. “Vanessa is also coincidentally texting me again. We’re going to have lunch. Do you want to come?”
This he directed at Logan. All in all, Logan stayed home a lot more than he used to. He was still trying to find his groove, but he’d been doing that for months, and he wasn’t so stupid he didn’t recognize how comfortable he was getting with isolation. Wade hadn’t seen his friends in weeks, and he knew seeing Vanessa was a big step.
“Do you want me to come?” Logan asked.
“Yes, please. If I throw up on the way there, I’ll need someone to hold my hair.”
Logan wanted to point out he and Vanessa had been dating for years before that, but Wade seemed genuinely nervous. “Yeah, I’ll go. Where to?”
“Coffee shop not that far from here. ‘Neutral ground’,” Wade said, with air quotes. “Like I’m gonna mug her.”
“What have you been texting her?” Logan asked, a little wary.
“I was only texting her a few dozen times a day! And they were mostly memes!”
“Bet she loved that,” Althea said with a snort. “How quickly did she block you?”
“She didn’t block me,” Wade said. “She just…stopped responding. And I couldn’t send any more texts. And then suddenly, I could. Two days ago…when she texted me.”
“You sure you’re ready to meet her then?” Logan said. He checked his schedule for the week and figured he could make some time. Being able to see pretty damn well in the dark, and his general lack of concern for what time he worked, and the fact that he healed from just about anything, meant Logan did a lot of night shifts.
“No, but…” Wade sighed. “I miss Mary Puppins. Big time. I miss her and her stupid little slobber mouth. It reminds me so much of you.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Logan said. Althea snickered, then devolved into laughter.
Logan came home late that night. He’d been working nonstop on a section of highway that left them with little room to maneuver. It was the city, so no matter how late it was, there were always cars passing by, their lights constantly flashing. Logan had gotten distracted at the wrong time and his shoulder paid the price.
He rubbed it as he stumbled into their room and collapsed at the edge of the bed. Wade was there, asleep.
His hands shook as he rid himself of his dirty, sweaty clothes. He took a shower, hands still shaking the whole time.
Logan braced his hand on the wall and licked his lips.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he murmured to himself. “Don’t you fucking do it. You’ll feel better if you don’t.”
When he came out of the bathroom, he wrapped a towel around his waist and put on underwear and socks. He hesitated by the door to the living room, his hair dripping down past the towel thrown over his shoulders and onto the floor.
Logan leaned against the doorframe, staring into space and working his jaw. His claws snicked in and out over his knuckles, just a few inches, something to keep him grounded.
He knew where Althea’s stash was. He’d been through it once, at the beginning, and he’d felt guilty ever since. He knew where it was and how to make it look like he’d never been there at all. Just a few sips, that was all he needed. He wasn’t that kind of alcoholic. He used to drink casually all the time.
Logan’s breath hissed out of his mouth. He was sweating, he realized, droplets slinking down his back and along his front.
“Logan?” Wade’s sleepy voice broke through his reverie. “What are you doing looming in the doorway?”
“Thinking.”
“Terrible waste of your time. As a pampered pretty boy, I know how cranky you get if you don’t get your beauty sleep. Get the fuck over here and cuddle me.”
Logan stepped away from the door and walked towards their bed, collapsing into it.
“All right,” he said, opening his arms so Wade could wrap himself around Logan. He buried his face in Wade’s neck and breathed in. The scent of Wade’s cancer was all-encompassing, but between layers was what he opened his senses to.
“I love it when you go smell-mode on me,” Wade said, his words slurring with sleep. “Would you prefer if I stopped showering? I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Wade, go to sleep,” Logan said, giving one last, final inhale.
Wade’s scent was comforting in its familiarity. In the face of certain death and saving a whole universe, it had always—infuriatingly—been there.
It still took Logan a long time to fall asleep after that.
They decided to take the metro and not bug Dopinder for a ride on their way to meet Vanessa. Neither of them owned a car, Logan’s reason being obvious. It was possible other Logan did have one, somewhere, but what possessions he had likely would have been claimed by the state. Or, if this Logan was less of a piece of shit, given to the X-Men, which was a no-go for current Logan.
Because they were outdoors, and his hands kept fucking shaking when he didn’t want them to, Logan took his cigars with him and carried one in his mouth without actually smoking it. It gave him something to hold and maneuver, and Wade would sometimes look at him with a particular gaze when he did.
Wade never hid what he was thinking, often to his detriment. Logan shuffled close to Wade as the seats in the subway car became more crowded, shifting them towards one of the center poles.
“You are doing this on purpose,” Wade said. “And don’t get me wrong, Logan, I would fuck you in front of all these people if it wouldn’t land me in jail.”
“Yeah?” Logan couldn’t help his smile. He leaned in closer, until their noses brushed. Wade’s breath came out in a rush. “So what’s the problem?”
“I need to focus, and the Wolverine is staring at me like he wants to kiss me. Do you even understand my predicament?”
“Sure,” Logan said.
“We are here to see Vanessa and get our dog back,” Wade said, his voice clipped. “Not make out in the subway, no matter how…”
Wade’s mouth parted as Logan’s fingers slid up the side of his face. He quietly unsheathed his claws, extending them just a few inches out from between his knuckles.
“…how much I want to,” he finished in a breath. “Stop fucking doing this to me, Logan! You know I love it when you do the claw thing!”
Logan kissed Wade once on the mouth, and then once more because Wade made a noise in the back of his throat, and he wanted to hear it again.
He felt when a couple people started paying them attention. He could also tell Wade shut down after that, too, going from playful to just another passenger trying to get through the day.
Logan rubbed Wade’s arm over his hoodie absently and pulled up his phone. He stuck the cigar back in his mouth. So far in knowing him, he was realizing there were days Wade didn’t want to be touched or looked at much at all. He’d spent a few days dressed in the Deadpool mask before.
“That cigar is going to melt in your mouth if you keep holding it, peanut.”
“Uh huh.” Logan scrolled through nearby restaurants with one hand. The other he left on Wade’s arm. His fingers slid lower, and he didn’t even think about it when they curled around Wade’s and he worked his fingertips over his palm.
He heard Wade’s heart skip a beat. “Hey—”
“How about this place?” Logan asked, holding up his phone. “Nearby where we’re meeting Vanessa.”
“We’re going to a café, sweetums,” Wade said, like Logan was slow on the uptake. “They have food there. Are you okay? Have you been watching ‘professional chefs’ on youtube trying different viral restaurant food again? Most of those guys are paid actors.”
“Yeah, I fucking know they have food. But you’re not going to eat when we get there,” Logan said without looking at him. “You said you felt like throwing up just heading that way. So we’ll eat after.”
“You are so thoughtful when you’ve got your head out of your ass,” Wade said, cocking his head at Logan. “You could be right. I do not feel particularly hungry. Although I could go for—”
“Wade.”
“—a sandwich. Get your head out of my pants!” Wade said, gasping dramatically. Logan snorted, let go of his hand, and started moving for the door. It was their stop.
“You coming?” he said to Wade, who was staring at his own hand like he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Not yet, peanut,” Wade said, smiling. “Not yet.”
There was a dogpark nearby; a small stretch of what was likely once grass but had been tamped down into a fenced off barren and sandy wasteland, with benches and a crowd of people spread throughout. Logan tossed his ruined cigar in a nearby trashcan and they moved past the park towards their destination.
Wade had pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head, but he seemed in good spirits. When they reached the stoplight across from the café, Logan got distracted watching some of the dogs running along the fence and had to be led by Wade by the small of his back.
“You think those dogs like being around all the other dogs?” Wade asked. “Imagine you see the same three people your whole life and then the people who feed you put you in a giant cage with fifty people you’ve never seen before.” Wade spread his hands, his voice going sing-song. “Have fun, Toodles! That big fucker in the corner isn’t fixed.”
Wade sighed.
“Mary Puppins deserves better. We’ll treat her right. No scary boxing rings with other dogs, only love in my arms.”
“And shit in mine,” Logan intoned.
“Oh, that’s right! She did shit on you!” Wade grinned, grabbing Logan’s arm and swinging it. He backed away from Logan—after peeking behind himself to make sure the coast was clear—and kept walking backwards, tugging Logan along. “That’s just how Mary Puppins shows love. I didn’t get shit on, so obviously, she has a favorite.”
“Obviously,” Logan drawled. The freezing wind swept through the street they were on; the tall buildings meant any gust turned the whole thing into a wind tunnel. Logan swore and tried to fix his hair afterwards. He’d been lucky to thrift a decent coat that had lasted him through the winter, and he was regretting not bringing his scarf.
“Must be nice to have a full head of hair to be concerned about,” Wade said wistfully. “I had hair once. A toupee, in fact. Nobody even knew—”
“Everybody knew,” Logan cut in. “It was stapled to your goddamn head.”
“Daddy’s credit card can’t fix it all,” Wade said, forlorn, and Logan knew he’d gone total bullshit mode. “Yukio and Russell replied to my 50-tweet thread that I was very brave for going on this journey. Although I’m not sure Yukio understood the comparison I made between myself and Elsa from Frozen. The second one, specifically.”
“We’re almost there,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the café. Wade’s shoulders tensed, and then all of a sudden he dragged Logan into a nearby alley between two buildings.
‘Wade, what the—?”
“What do you think about turning back and going home?” Wade blurted. He brought both hands together and breathed into them to create some warmth. “I’ve got it. I’ll text Vanessa that I’ve become violently ill. It’s covid. No—too specific. The flu. No, wait! Blue cheese.”
“Blue cheese?” Logan said, trying to follow.
“I fucking hate blue cheese. It makes me violently ill. So. We were on our way, then you started force-feeding me blue—”
“Why are you so nervous? You dated this girl for years. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“I don’t know!” Wade said, his voice high-pitched. His laugh bordered on hysterical. “I am losing my mind! My heart is pounding like a hummingbird’s.” Wade gripped Logan’s wrists with both hands, tight and a little dangerous. “This is the first time I’ve left the house in a normal way for anything other than groceries in weeks.”
“Whoa, whoa, easy,” Logan said, because Wade was starting to really panic. He flipped them so Wade had his back to the wall, thinking it might help. “Easy. I think you’re panicking too much over a cup of coffee at a café.”
“I don’t panic, peanut,” he said, his voice going steely and pleasant. “I am easy-going, and for the record, have you considered I am not in need of any kind of therapy whatsoever? I’m not freaking out over seeing my ex. She’s actually very nice!”
“All right.” Logan planted both hands on Wade’s arms and gave them a squeeze. “All right. You wanna go home?”
Wade dropped Logan’s hands and threw his hood back. “No, no. I’m fine.” A pause. “What the fuck is wrong with me? Seriously. I am not this much of a fuckup usually.”
Logan pulled Wade in for a hug, hoping contact would help, because he didn’t know what the fuck else he was supposed to do.
Wade took a few breaths, standing in silence. Then he said, “What I wouldn’t give for a bullet in my brain right now. Give ‘er the ol’ reset!”
He laughed. Logan didn’t.
“Don’t even joke about that. It’s going to be fine,” Logan said. “You’re going to see her, talk for a bit, take the dog, and we’ll go home.”
“You’re right.” Wade nodded once, pulling back. “You’re right.” He hopped up and down in place and then shook his hands. “Okay. Let’s go. Kiss me.”
Logan waited for a beat, but Wade just stared at him. So Logan leaned forward and kissed him.
“Done.”
“Oh, no no no no. Logan. Angel baby. You’re just so adorable.” Wade grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “You misunderstand me. I need you to kiss me.”
“Why?” Logan looked left and right, like it would help him understand.
“Because we are going to see my ex, and I really need to focus. So I need you to kiss me.”
“Didn’t you just say earlier me kissing you would distract you?”
“You see, the problem with that is you,” Wade said, matter of fact.
“Me,” Logan repeated.
“Yes, you. Logan, you have to understand just how much you” —he grabbed at the air—“drive me nuts. I mean, there’s the cigar thing, which, do I even have to explain? Then there’s the glasses, the fact that you’re the Wolverine and you sometimes stab me at night—”
“Wade,” Logan said, a warning. He leaned in, his aim to intimidate.
“See? You’re looming at me like you kind of want to kill me, but that’s just what makes it hotter! And then there’s your voice and your smell…” Wade breathed in slowly, dragging his palms down Logan’s front, digging into his shirt a little at the end. “When you get all sweaty you smell so fucking good. And even now, despite the fact that your aftershave is horrible. I fucking hate Old Spice! But it turns me on anyway.”
“Where are you going with this?” Logan asked. He tried to subtly sniff himself.
“My point is: I need to be of sound mind when facing Vanessa, and I am not ready to tell her that I’m dating anyone yet, so if I kiss you now, I won’t do it accidentally later. I’ll be too horny thinking about when we did kiss.”
“So you’re saying we need to kiss, which usually works you up, in order to not work you up later,” Logan said, heavy with doubt.
“Oh thank god I am so glad you get it. Come on, Logan, smack one on me.”
“Right.” Logan ran his hand through his hair and decided to hell with it. “Fuck it, all right.”
Logan kissed Wade again, starting with just a few pecks, lingering a little each time their lips met. He enjoyed a buildup. Wade met him with slightly more gusto, cradling Logan’s head and pulling him in. Still, Logan kept it chaste, only deepening his kisses on the fourth or fifth one.
In retrospect, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to agree. Wade was a responsive, eager partner, and Logan couldn’t help the low, rumbling sounds coming from his throat. And because Wade was Wade, he responded; he moaned with each continuing kiss, in a way that really shouldn’t have been out in the public soundscape.
It made Logan kiss him harder, forcing his tongue into that mouth of his, over Wade’s teeth, tasting him until they had to pull away to breathe. And then Wade went for Logan’s neck, slowly trailing kisses down his jaw and the high point of his throat.
“I think I made a mistake,” Wade panted, yanking him back in place and kissing him again, hard. “Your sloppy kisses drive me even more nuts. I wanna fuck you so bad right now. Motherfuck.”
Logan dug his claws into the wall and slowly dragged them down.
“Big mistake,” he hissed into Logan’s lips. “What the fuck was I thinking? Kissing you is like feeding an addiction.”
Logan had just gone back to devouring Wade’s mouth, both arms hooked around his middle and tugging his solid, muscled body tight against Logan’s when he heard heels hitting concrete nearby, followed by a snuffling little dog. The realization hit him too late.
“I thought I heard your voice—oh-oh my god!”
If Logan’s skeleton hadn’t been fused with metal-heavy adamantium, the way that Wade shoved him away with brutal force would have knocked him off his feet. Instead, he only fell back a step.
“Vanessa!” Wade said, his voice pitched entirely too high. He cleared his throat. “‘Ness, hey. Wow. Hey, you are…you are clearly walking Mary Puppins, I see. Well.” Wade looked between Vanessa and Logan. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is now amazingly awkward.” To Logan he said, “Can we make a small adjustment to that rule about killing myself?”
“No,” Logan said.
Vanessa cocked her head at that, narrowing her eyes, something like a smile spreading on her face. “Wade, did you just…have your tongue down his throat? Did I see that right?”
Logan snapped into motion, drawing on what manners he could muster.
“Uh, hi,” he said, and whipped out his most charming smile. “Hey, Vanessa. It’s nice to see you again. I’m Logan, if you don’t remember. Sorry about that. We, uh, got a little carried away.”
“We’re fucking,” Wade blurted. Then he immediately walked a few steps away and yelled, “fuck!”
When he returned, he said, “Cat’s out of the bag! You met him once before for about five minutes when I surrendered Dogpool while we got our shit together, but this is Wolverine. The X-Man himself, Logan. And he’s my…rebound? Is it a rebound if it was over five years ago? Anyway, please exqueeze our aforementioned alley makeout. I promise we can still be responsible parents for Mary Puppins!”
“It’s okay, you really don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Vanessa said. She was smiling, a little awkward but good natured, and picked up Mary Puppins, who leaned away when Logan reached for her. “You deserve someone who makes you want to make out with them in an alleyway. And it’s nice to see you again, Logan.”
If she knew what it meant that he was the Wolverine, she didn’t say anything about it. With more awkward pleasantries out of the way, Mary Puppins was handed off to Logan for some reason, and Vanessa wisely suggested they head to their destination.
Once inside, Logan looked around at the crowded, nearly filled tables and headed for an empty one near the door. He sat down near the window; Mary Puppins immediately stood in his lap and stared out of it intently. He gave her a few strokes on her head, because he wasn’t a monster, even if he didn’t like her much, and Wade settled down next to him.
“You know, I wasn’t sure how to feel about you,” Vanessa said, causing Wade to freeze and Logan to look up. Wade took Mary Puppins from Logan immediately, holding her to his chest like a lifeline.
“Me?” Logan asked.
“Wade, I mean. Our whole…history.”
“That makes two of us,” Wade said. “I massively fucked up our whole relationship, so I don’t blame you.”
“Look, Wade. You didn’t massively fuck up. And I just…needed some time after everything. I still love you,” she said. “You’ll always be my best friend.”
“Yeah,” Wade said quietly. “Yeah, me too.”
“Just stop texting me memes all the time,” she added, softer then. “All right?”
Wade laughed in a gentle, broken sort of way. “Sorry. Thanks for unblocking me.”
A solid few seconds passed. Logan felt extremely uncomfortable sitting there.
“I’m gonna get some food. And coffee,” Vanessa said, rubbing her hands together. “I’ll be right back.”
That was his cue. Logan had the distinct feeling he was intruding, so he stood. “I need a smoke. I’ll be right—”
Wade’s hand shot out and gripped his thigh. He said, “If you fucking leave me here I will teach Mary Puppins to shit on your side of the bed. When I was a kid I taught a dog to eat its own shit. Don’t ask me why I did it, I don’t fucking know. But that and Mary Puppins following us from another world tells me I am Marvel Jesus and a dog whisperer, and I could do it again.”
Logan sat back down. He laid his arm across Wade’s shoulders. Wade was an inch or so taller than Logan seated, but he had shrunk down to layer Mary Puppins’s head in kisses. She kissed him back, with tongue.
“Hey,” Logan said. He nosed the side of Wade’s head, breathing in. Wade exhaled through his nose. “Don’t worry so much. It’s going great. That was all positive from her.”
“I will admit, it’s not nearly as catastrophic as I thought it would be. Plus, having someone else know about you is kind of nice. Even if it’s my ex-fucking-fiancé. Who at one point I had planned having a baby with.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want something?”
Wade abruptly scooted out of his seat and dumped Mary Puppins into Logan’s lap before he could even give a reply. Logan then set her on the floor, because she had a leash, which he wound around his fist until it was short enough. She sniffed his hand hanging down and then turned away.
“Feeling’s mutual,” he said. He didn’t really see the appeal in having a dog, but Wade had been obsessed ever since they’d seen her grimy face running over the grassy hill in the void.
Logan lifted his head and watched Wade and Vanessa chat while they waited for their drinks. Though they sold fresh food, Wade had picked out a pre-packaged sandwich and fiddled with the corner flap while they talked.
When they came back, Wade seemed marginally calmer.
“Tell me you were jealous,” he whispered loudly into his ear.
“Not a fucking chance,” Logan said.
Wade set his sandwich and a cup of coffee in front of Logan.
“Thanks, but I didn’t ask for this,” Logan said. The coffee he took; the sandwich he attempted to slide back towards Wade.
“This just shows how well I know you! It’s made with rye bread. Do you like rye?” Wade leaned towards Vanessa and whispered conspiratorially, “He needs more fiber.”
“Does lying just come second nature to you?” Logan asked, picking up the sandwich and slapping it into Wade’s hand.
“I’m not lying. I’m making an educated guess. Unlike a wish, this one uses my brain. And in case you’ve forgotten, peanut, you’re nearly two hundred years old. You know what they say: first it’s fiber, then it’s a colostomy bag.”
“Are you gonna take that from him?” Vanessa asked, smiling around her cup.
Logan placed his hand on the back of Wade’s neck and gave it a gentle shake. “Only while we’re in public.”
“Shivers!” Wade said, shivering for effect. Logan unwrapped the sandwich and plopped it back into Wade’s hands while he talked. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’ll be expecting full-gear impact play. My safeword is kumquat.” He was so distracted by talking that he took a bite automatically and made a face. “Ugh, rye.”
“It is,” Vanessa said, ducking her head to laugh behind her cup.
Wade cleared his throat, and after dodging Mary Puppins’s attempts to eat his bread, he took another bite. Logan rubbed his thumb around the side of Wade’s neck that was exposed. He’d left the hoodie down.
Good, Logan thought. He still felt guilty about that one.
They started talking. Mostly Vanessa and Wade. Conversation was a little stilted, but Logan thought it was going well. Wade obviously wanted to have a relationship with Vanessa, even as friends. They talked like two people who’d shared a life together.
“How’s the one bedroom?” Vanessa asked at one point.
“Due to a nasty roach infestation, we’ve had to abandon Blind Al’s room entirely and converted the living room into a shared space,” he said. “It’s a war zone. My struggles with flatulence have not improved the situation.”
Logan tried not to smile. Vanessa grinned down at her cup.
“Sounds like it’s going well. That’s great! I was worried about you,” Vanessa said, reaching out with her hand. She grabbed Wade’s on the table and clutched it briefly. Wade stared at it like it might attack him. “I’m not anymore.”
“Yeah?” Wade croaked. He reached under the table and grabbed Logan’s hand, squeezing it so hard Logan would have bruised had he been human.
“Yes. Let’s hangout soon, okay?” Vanessa let go of him and smiled at them both. “I’ll kind of miss Mary. She’s so ugly it circles back around to being cute.”
“Cover your ears,” Wade whispered, kissing Mary Puppins’s head. “They don’t understand you like I do.”
Vanessa laughed. “We’ll go have a drink somewhere. Logan can join us.”
“Sure,” Logan said, swallowing around a suddenly dry throat.
When they got back, Wade immediately disappeared into his room. He didn’t come out for a while, but Logan had to get ready for work anyway.
“I’ll be out late tonight,” he told Wade when he came out. “I’ve gotta go soon. Leftovers are in the fridge. I put the sandwich in there from earlier.”
“I fucking hate rye.”
“Then don’t buy it next time,” Logan said. Wade stood by the doorway out, arms crossed, staring at him appreciatively.
“You going out tonight?” Logan asked.
“Oh no. Not with our cute widdle baby girl here with us now,” Wade said, his tone turning sickeningly sweet and catching the attention of Mary Puppins. She had seated herself on the couch, and at Wade’s voice she hopped up and bounded over to them. “Aren’t you just the cutest little pup ever. Yes you are! Yes you are.”
“And what about me?” Logan asked.
“And what about you, peanut? Do you need some love, too? Does da widdle Wolverine need me to kiss a boo-boo?”
Logan yanked Wade closer with an arm and nipped the air in his face.
“You’ve still got to pay for all the shit you said earlier. Don’t think I forgot.”
“I would not even fucking dream of it,” Wade said, breathless with excitement.
It was when Logan moved to open the door that Wade suddenly grabbed his hand and stopped him.
“Logan,” he said, his voice turning serious.
“What is it?” Logan asked, immediately on alert.
“I…” Wade shook his head. “I—” He shook it again. “I want you to take my guns tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I am feeling…” Wade sighed explosively. “I am feeling like doing a little self-murder. Feeling a little too trigger-happy, and I am not very good at resisting that impulse. For once, I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t. Wow! Therapy, take that!”
“You okay?” Logan asked, taking a step closer.
“I don’t know. I just—with Vanessa, and the way she found us…and I…” Logan almost didn’t know what to do with a version of Wade that wasn’t making a joke about what he was feeling. Logan just stood there, arms crossed, waiting for him patiently.
“She didn’t get it. We saw her and talked to her and it was like…fuck, she didn’t see me anymore.” Wade inhaled and rubbed a hand across his face. “So I’ll just take away all my toys. Then I can’t hurt anybody.”
“I’ll call out,” Logan said.
“No, nope, don’t need that guilt on my conscience, thanks.” Wade pushed him back by the chest. Logan didn’t budge an inch. “You go, and I’ll stay. I’ve got a busy schedule re-watching the somewhat controversial season that is Star Trek: Voyager through a feminist lens for my blog. I have so many notes I’ll need to take, I won’t even have time for guns! Just take them away until I need them again.”
“Wade, I can’t leave when you just told me you’re feeling fucking suicidal!”
“Yes, and nothing about that is new!” Wade pushed Logan harder. “It’s not going to go away, and I can’t die, so the best you can do is do what I’m asking you to do, or I won’t ask you again!”
“Okay. Fuck! Okay, fine.” Logan didn’t know where he was going to store them, but he was firing on all cylinders. He’d figure something out. The storage unit he was currently renting for what little he did have would require a taxi. “Where are they?”
Wade went into his room and Logan followed. He pulled a hefty black duffel bag (the sides had pink flowery patches sewn on) out from under the bed. Then he pulled out another. Then he yanked one gun out from under the bedside table. Another from the bathroom. Another under a corner of carpet Wade had cut away from the wall.
“That all of them?”
Wade barked a laugh. “Oh, you. Not even close.”
There were several more in the living room, kitchen, the goddamn ceiling light, and he had wedged one behind the cleaning products in the sink cabinet.
“Why did you put one there?” Logan couldn’t help but ask.
“Don’t have a clue! I’m a ‘set it and forget it’ kind of guy. Probably figured if some fucker shoved my head in there, I’d blow their head off.” He paused. “You know, I don’t even know how I remembered I left it in there. Huh. Oh well!”
“So this is all of them?” Logan asked, walking up to Wade and sliding it out of his hand. “There’s no more of ‘em, right?”
“Yes, daddy, that’s all my toys.”
“Keep fucking saying that and you’re going to get spanked,” Logan said.
“So spanking is not off the table, then? Noted for future reference, and I will be remembering that.”
“All right, all right,” Logan said. “I’ll…I’ll be back then. Call me if you need anything.” He gripped Wade’s forearm and squeezed it. “I fucking mean it, Wade.”
“When you do the grizzled and aggressive lover thing it just makes me want to rip off all your clothes,” Wade said. He wrapped his arms around himself. “Also, contrary to what you might have been led to believe, I’m not a six-foot-two child.”
“I know you’re not,” Logan said. “You’re just hurting. Fuck knows I know what that’s like. I can’t die any more than you can.”
“Can you regrow limbs and put them through second puberty?” Wade joked.
Logan grabbed Wade’s shoulder, wishing he could tell him he knew exactly how he felt without fucking it up. Wished he knew the perfect thing to say in the right way.
“You know what was one of the worst experiences of my life?” Logan said.
“When you realized the Golden Girls had lost the prime time Saturday night slot to the Torkelsons in 1991?”
Logan leaned his head down briefly and scuffed the bottom of his shoe against the doormat. Wade was wearing his crocs.
“When I drowned,” he said. “In 1973, for a few days, I drowned. Magneto had stuck me all over with these steel rods—” Logan motioned to different points on his body “—twisted ‘em so I couldn’t pull them out. Then he tossed me a mile away into the nearby river. I’ve been hurt before in all kinds of ways, but that was one of the worst. People say it's supposed to be peaceful; your body eventually shuts down, you fall asleep, and you die. But I couldn't die. I still dream about it.”
The pain he’d been in—it was the kind of pain that changed a person. Tore them apart and worked them into a different shape.
Logan realized it was the first time he’d ever told anyone about it. The first time he’d ever said it out loud. Talking about it made him feel numb, like he was talking about something that happened to someone else.
“Wow, that was…touching,” Wade said. “Uplifting, really. I’ve never wanted to live more in my life, no cap.”
“What I’m trying to say,” Logan said, holding up a hand, “is that I know what you’re feeling. I know what the worst feels like. Don’t like being in water much anymore, that’s for sure.”
The sound of someone’s alarm started going off outside their doorway. Logan could hear a woman swearing and rifling through something. Wade didn’t speak until the sound went away.
“That’s really messed up. Endless drowning?” Wade made an unhappy sound. “That is so exceptionally fucked. I’m sorry, Logan.”
It was Wade who moved first, crushing Logan against his body, wrapping his arms around him full-bodied. Logan hugged him with all (most of) his strength until Logan's phone started ringing, letting him know he was late. He didn't want to leave, but knew Wade wouldn't let him stay.
“Yeah,” he said finally, “yeah, me, too.”