Poolvertober

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1. Dopinder

Dopinder’s driving Logan and Wade to a drop-off point where they’ll meet the X-Men for their next mission. When they first left the apartment, Wade had loaded up with Logan in the back. After about five minutes of highway traffic, the idiot decided to get into the passenger’s seat to sit next to Dopinder.

On the one hand, Logan’s pissed that Wade is pulling this shit. Getting kicked in the face by one of Wade’s boots when he squeezes into the taxi’s partition certainly doesn’t help.

On the other... well, it’s a great view of Wade’s ass.

(He will never admit that he kind of, maybe likes sitting next to Wade; finds his presence comforting before big missions like this one. But he’s not a fool. They may be dating but Logan’s never going to admit anything out loud, lest Wade starts to annoy him even more than he already does.)

Logan tunes out Wade and Dopinder easily, his mind occupied by mentally reviewing the details of their mission. He only tunes back in after another five minutes of traffic because Dopinder says something that piques his interest.

“But why does Peter get to go on X-Force missions and I don’t?” the cab driver whines, and Logan’s ear twitches at the name.

Dopinder can’t possibly mean Peter W—

“Because sugar bear is a bit more insane than you, my little toaster that could,” Wade answers easily.

Which means, yes, the two are talking about Peter Wisdom, Wade’s middle-aged ex-coworker from the Drive Max car dealership. Even though Peter had shown up in an ill-fitting Deadpool suit while fighting the Deadpool Corps, Logan still has no idea what the hell Dopinder’s talking about. He thought Peter’s interference during the Time Ripper fiasco was a random one-off thing. Does that mean Wade lets Peter tag along on missions regularly?

”I can be insane!” Dopinder retaliates. “I ran over than pervy orphanage headmaster, didn’t I?”

Wade nods. “That you did, Dopinder, that you did.”

“He fuckin’ what now?” Logan interjects, because the cab driver did what?

“Don’t you worry about it, honey badger,” Wade waves him off easily. “It was in the second movie—I’ll give you the run down later. It was actually pretty hilarious though, I’ll admit—”

“And I’m great at humour!” Dopinder points out. “You just said it yourself!”

“You don’t need an excellent sense of humour to become a hitman, but it does certainly help, in my very humble opinion,” Wade concedes. He looks out the window. “And yes, I said humble, not honest—you can pry that from my dead body, which is fucking never.”

Logan’s getting whiplash already and their mission hasn’t even started yet. What the fuck are they talking about? Dopinder wants to be a hitman? And is asking Wade for advice?

Logan can’t dwell on his questions for long because Wade turns back to Dopinder with a sigh. “Listen, goose, I already told you what you needed to hear last time: You’re an eagle and you gotta spread your wings! Seize the opportunity! Carpe that diem and all that jazz!”

He catches Dopinder’s confused expression. “I-I don’t recall you ever saying that...?”

“I agree that the metaphor was severely lost when I said it but I did say it!” Wade insists.

“O-okay... But then how am I supposed to seize it, Mr. Pool?”

“Just like you did with that pedophilic shitstain at the orphanage!” Wade pats Dopinder’s shoulder reassuringly. “When the time comes, you’ll know, my young Padawan.”

“I suppose...” he trails off with a nod. “Thank you, DP.”

Wade bows his head regally. “I am but your noble Jedi master.”

Logan almost feels dizzy by the exchange that just flew past him. Between Dopinder admitting he ran over a pedophile and Peter apparently being more insane than that, he almost misses the sincerity in their conversation. Dopinder looks genuinely comforted by Wade’s advice, which itself is surprisingly honest and helpful.

Who would’ve thought?

“Okay, we’re here!” Dopinder presses a button on the fare counter, where Logan catches the $38.19 price tag before Dopinder resets the machine back to zero. Logan’s about to ask why he did that even though they haven’t paid yet when Dopinder says, “Put it on your tab?”

“As always, my favourite cabbie.”

“Your tab?” Logan asks.

“Oh, DP doesn’t bring his wallet on missions,” Dopinder explains. “Ruins the lines of his suit.”

Wade shoots finger guns at him. “You got that right!”

“Are you fucking serio—you’re a dickhead, bub,” Logan sighs, reaching for his pocket. “Dopinder, I’ll cover the fare this time.”

“No, no! It’s okay, Mr. Wolverine, sir!” Dopinder shakes his head. “DP always pulls through when it comes to paying me back.”

“Peanut, I’m insulted you’d think I wouldn’t pay this earth angel,” Wade gasps, hand on his chest. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“A mooch who also doesn’t pay rent on time.”

“How dare you! I always make things work.” Wade turns to caress Dopinder’s ear, and Logan suppresses the urge to start growling. “Don’t listen to him—our system is perfect and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

Dopinder laughs.

Wade unlocks his seatbelt. “High tens until next time?”

Dopinder raises his palms to meet Wade’s. “Until next time!”

As he exits the taxi, Logan wonders if he even wants to know what the hell just happened in front of him. Wade and Dopinder seem content though, so he leaves it be.

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2. Peter

Logan finishes jogging with Mary Puppins for her morning walk when he strolls up to their apartment. He’s not sure why Peter is there, just that the man greets him at the door when Logan comes home.

“Hey, Logan! Miss Puppins!” Peter says cheerfully, opening the door for the two to step in.

“Welcome back, honey badger!” he hears Wade call from the kitchen. “And welcome back to my little princess, too!”

Mary immediately skitters over to Wade’s open arms. Logan hums his hello before heading to the bathroom to take a shower. Once he’s done and changed, he steps into the living room to find Peter and Wade talking over coffee at the kitchen table while Mary naps on her bed in the corner. Logan walks over to pour himself a cup before grabbing the morning paper off the kitchen counter.

“Pfft, you’re such an old man,” Wade teases.

Logan doesn’t even bother dignifying that with a response and simply kisses Wade’s temple to properly greet him now that he’s cleaned up. Taking a seat, he lifts the broadsheet to his face after sipping his coffee.

“Hey, don’t make fun—I read the paper too!” Peter pokes Wade on the arm. “Anyway, did you give Agent B-15 my email?”

Logan isn’t even looking at him, but he can hear the utterly baffled face that Wade is making when he says, “Why the fuck would she need your email?”

He doesn’t expect Peter’s response at all.

“We kissed!”

He nearly drops the newspaper.

“Excuse the fuck outta your beautiful moustache?!” Wade exclaims.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Peter sounds honest in his confusion.

“No, the flying fuck you did not!”

Logan does his best to continue reading, but between the close proximity and Wade being loud as ever, it’s hard to ignore their conversation. He at least tries to make it look like he’s not blatantly listening to them, only peering over the top edge of the newspaper when Wade and Peter aren’t looking at him.

“Oh!” Peter pauses, and Logan catches a sheepish smile crossing his face. “Well, yeah, we kissed.”

Logan can’t describe the high-pitched noise that escapes Wade—he’s not entirely sure there are words in the English language that can.

“I’m so happy for you, sugar bear!” Wade cheers, leaning over to wrap Peter in a hug. If they were standing, Logan’s positive that he’d sweep Peter right off the floor. “Way to land a babe!”

When he releases a now laughing Peter, Wade punches him in the shoulder. Peter’s laughter quickly turns into a yelp.

“Ow!”

“Now, why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Wade demands.

Rubbing his shoulder with a whine, Peter says, “I really thought I did! I told—oh.”

“‘Oh’?!”

The appalled expression on Wade’s face is so hilarious that Logan has to cover his face with the paper again to hide his own laugh.

“Maybe I didn’t tell you,” Peter agrees. “I forgot I only told two people.”

“Before me?!”

Logan subtly drops his newspaper again just in time to catch Peter’s pinched expression. He takes another sip of coffee while Peter tilts his head side to side in a so-so motion.

“Um, technically you? Kidpool and Headpool live with me now—”

“WHAT.”

“—and I guess I mixed them up with you, ha!” Peter scratches the back of his head with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

Wade takes a very deep breath, resting his elbows on the table to fold his hands together with a dramatic flourish.

He then begins to count with his fingers as he asks, “One: Did you fucking adopt two AU versions of me? Two: Whatever. I’m still so happy for you!”

Peter’s smile returns, growing even wider. “Thank you!”

“Now,” Wade squeals, “spill the tea, sugar bear! I want all the deets.”

He grabs both of Peter’s hands, practically vibrating in his seat like a high schooler listening to the latest gossip about the popular kids at school. It reminds Logan of the students at the X-Mansion back in his old world, way back when.

“Was there tongue? Hand action? Groin action?” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows.

“Oh, gosh, Wade, I—”

Wade’s face splits into a scandalized grin. “There was?!” Even Logan’s eyebrows jump at that.

“No!” Peter immediately cuts in. “But, um, she was the one that kissed me.” His smile turns more bashful, red now colouring his face.

Wade nods at him encouragingly. “And...?!”

Peter squirms excitedly in his seat. “And she waved me goodbye.”

“FUCKIN’ SCORE!” Wade reaches a palm out that Peter meets with a high-five.

“Thank you, buddy!”

The two continue to talk about Peter’s apparently budding relationship with B-15, as well as how the hell he ended up with Kidpool and Headpool. All the while, Logan continues to read his paper and drink his coffee, confused but appreciative of Peter’s grounding presence whenever Wade starts going off the rails.

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3. Althea

At first, Wade’s friendship with Althea baffled Logan. But within 24 hours of living with them he realized why they’re thick as thieves: Neither of them takes the other’s bullshit. It’s apparent when Wade steers Althea into making better choices than spending a whole afternoon snorting cocaine, and Althea yells at Wade to act like an adult human being.

“Motherfucker, I wish left your sorry-ass homeless all those years ago,” she had hissed after Wade, yet again, said something stupid. Logan immediately became on edge—was this really happening at his first dinner here?

But Wade didn’t bite back. Instead, he had calmly asked, “Then who would be the one paying for the Hulu account?”

“Bitch, do you think I can’t swap out Disney for Hulu?”

“No, I think you wouldn’t realize that I cancelled your D+ subscription six months ago because you hated the mid-rolls.”

“Oh, right.” Althea had made a face, apparently remembering she said that. “Well, shit. Thank you, baby.”

“Yeeeup, that’s what I thought,” Wade had replied easily, shovelling more food into his mouth. “Also,” he muffled around a mouthful, “you’re welcome.”

“Don’t talk with food in your fucking mouth!” she chided, smacking her hand in Wade’s general direction.

Wade just stuck his tongue out at her with a disgusting mound of chewed up food, making a taunting noise as he did.

“The dipshit is sticking his tongue out at me, isn’t he?”

Logan could only nod. “Yes, he is.”

And that’s how their banter goes.

It especially turns up when they watch reality TV together. Logan doesn’t get the appeal, probably never will, but he does find it amusing to see how passionate both Wade and Althea are over who wins this week’s challenge, or who gets eliminated from the island, or who takes home the grand prize at the end.

“I swear to god,” Althea grouches one evening, “if that bitch Claire gets a rose and Tamia doesn’t—”

“You fuckin’ said it, Al!”

“My ass is blind and I can still see that she’s gonna divorce that boy two months in.”

“Exactly!”

The two argue over the contestants they like, shit-talk the contestants they hate, and argue during commercials over why their favourite deserves to win with an intensity that would probably count as verbal assault in the legal system. Whenever Wade gets up for drinks and snacks, he never asks Althea if she wants anything. He automatically grabs her favourites from the kitchen and sits back down without missing a beat of whatever heated debate they’re in. Althea wordlessly passes Wade the tissue box when he starts pulling down his sleeves to cover his face because a kid/widowed spouse/senior contestant tells their sob story during solo interviews.

Neither of them ever hesitate to lean their head on the other’s shoulder, or hold hands when things on screen get intense.

Once the show is over, Wade allows Althea to berate him for keeping her up way past my bedtime, goddamn it, I’m gonna be late for bingo again. And Althea allows Wade to bid her goodnight by calling her a geriatric cunt who can’t hang out with young things like me anymore!

(This is, of course, regardless of how late they actually stay up, because Althea never gets out of bed before 10am. Bingo starts at 9.)

They do this every night when Wade isn’t on a mission. In fact, Logan eventually realizes that Wade is usually the one who reminds Althea when their programming is on, mostly because when he and Wade are gone for jobs, she’s more than happy to catch up on their shows by herself.

Logan suspects that Wade not only enjoys their routine, but probably needs it more than Althea does.

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4. X-Men

At the next mission, he’s waiting with Negasonic and Yukio at the X-Mansion while Wade runs off to find Colossus. Logan just rips the Band-Aid off.

“Why the hell are you two friends with him?” He jerks his head towards the direction Wade left.

“I’m not,” Ellie says.

“She is,” Yukio says. Ellie rolls her eyes and playfully pokes her girlfriend in the side. “Also,” Yukio continues with a sincere smile, “Wade is always nice to me.”

Logan grunts his acceptance at that—this universe’s Yukio is so friendly to everyone, he’s not surprised Wade took a liking to her. What she sees in Wade, he still has no clue, but he’s less perplexed by their friendship considering that (to Logan’s knowledge) Wade’s interests align with hers.

Eloise, on the other hand, he is still confused over. So Logan presses on, undeterred. “I’m surprised you haven’t blasted him to smithereens,” he says to her.

“I have.” After a pause, she tilts her head with a pinched expression. “Well, kinda.” At Logan’s concerned silence, she explains, “He was on top of a raft and I blew him up to the sky to help him save Vanessa.”

Logan has no idea what to say to that, so he goes back to his original point: “That doesn’t explain why you’re friends with him.”

He and Ellie stare at each other in silence.

“This ain’t an interrogation, bub,” he eventually says, voice soft. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t wanna.”

Ellie continues to stare at him, clearly trying to figure out if Logan has an ulterior motive. As curious as he is, he’s honest about not pushing her if she doesn’t want to tell him anything.

Finally, she sighs, crossing her arms. “He didn’t make fun of my codename.”

That... is not the answer he was expecting. “Really?”

Yukio wraps an arm around Ellie’s waist as she says, “From what I’ve heard, it’s actually quite sweet!”

“No, it isn’t,” Ellie refutes. “He just happened to be the first one to tell me it wasn’t weird or stupid.”

Negasonic Teenage Warhead is a mouthful, Logan does not say out loud.

“I thought he called it ‘the coolest name ever’?” Yukio asks with an innocent look on her face. Ellie rolls her eyes again but doesn’t dispute anything.

Then, she adds, “He also changed the labelling system in the kitchen from tape to velcro labels.” She looks away, but Logan can see the fondness cracking through her expression all the same. “But I’m pretty sure he only did that because he saw me bitching about people stealing my shit all the time and ripping off my labels.”

“Wade’s super nice,” Yukio confirms with a nod.

Logan mulls over this information with a quiet hum and a nod of his own.

Later, once the mission is completed and everyone is scattered around to help victims or talk to the authorities, Logan manages to corner Colossus alone.

“NTW tells me you are ‘grilling people’ about Wade, yes?” he asks in lieu of a greeting. Apparently, the Russian has been expecting him.

Logan doesn’t give a spoken answer but Piotr accepts his silence as one nonetheless. He places his hands on his hips, looking away to nod at Wade in the distance. Logan follows his gaze to find Wade with Laura, the two of them sitting with a little boy and girl—siblings, if Logan had to guess. It looks like Wade is trying to teach the three of them a hand-clap game.

“Wade is... not always good man,” Piotr starts, “but he can be. And he always give second chances, even to people who may not deserve it.”

Logan recalls Wade telling him about his misadventures with X-Force after their ride with Dopinder. “Like that Russell kid?”

“Yes,” he concedes, “but also me.”

“Hm?” He turns to look up at the giant again with a raised eyebrow.

Piotr meets his gaze. “He has told you I left him to Ice Box?”

“Hrm,” he grunts in assent. Logan knows better than to comment on that whole situation, even if he did get super pissed when Wade told him that the X-Men punished him and the kid so harshly.

“I did not give him second chance after his first and only mission as trainee,” Piotr admits with a regretful shake of his head, “but he still came to me for help with Russell, even after I betrayed him.

“He believed that I, a hero, could still save someone after I refused to save him.”

Piotr’s eyes wander back over to where Wade is, whose hands are in the air as he enthusiastically elaborates on something to a very patient Laura. The two siblings laugh at something he says.

“Wade is not perfect,” Piotr finally rumbles, “but perhaps what he is doesn’t need to be.”

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5. Vanessa

Civilian life does not suit Wade at all. Logan’s barely been in this timeline for a year and even he knows how goddamn awful Wade is at anything resembling normalcy. However, the one thing he apparently kept from his brief stint at it was game nights.

(Logan supposes there are worse things Wade could’ve continued doing, like using that god awful toupee that Wade still vehemently denies is a toupee.)

The majority of Wade’s game collection is of the tabletop variety. Logan knows the popular board game classics like Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, Candyland—but there’s also card games with names like Exploding Cats and Cards Against Humanity.

(Wade and Althea have strict rules to never bring Monopoly, Settlers of Catan, or Uno into the apartment. Logan doesn’t bother asking why.)

Tonight they settle on Pictionary, with teams split into pairs randomized by an online generator: Laura and Yukio, Dopinder and Negasonic, Peter and Colossus, Vanessa and Logan, Dermot and Wade. Althea opts to be the referee and time keeper.

It’s unfortunate that Wade isn’t drawn as the pair’s illustrator (he’s surprisingly competent with crayons when given the chance) because that leaves Dermot as their artist, and he starts drawing god knows what as Wade yells nonsense guesses.

“A donkey? A horse riding a donkey! Donkey on a princess carriage?”

“No!” Dermot cries in despair.

Wade puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, fine! Not a donkey at all, what the fuck—”

Logan doesn’t even try suppressing his fond smile at his boyfriend’s increasing frustration. Wade looks ready to flip a table with each passing second—though, to be completely fair to him, Logan also has no idea what the hell Dermot is supposed to be drawing.

Since he and Vanessa already finished their turn (they got “chess” as their prompt, for which Vanessa drew the board and pieces easily), they sit next to each other on the sofa, watching their struggling partners with amusement.

“Last minute!” Althea calls out.

“Fuck!”

“Oh god, shoot, okay—”

Logan gently nudges Vanessa’s side with an elbow. “Shouldn’t you be saving your boyfriend from this? I think Wade’s about to pull out Baby Knife.”

“Nah,” Vanessa giggles, waving a dismissive hand. “They’re both adults—they can handle a round of Pictionary.”

Logan shoots her a skeptical look. “I disagree with Wade being an adult, but sure.”

Vanessa giggles again, her laughter turning into a cackle when Althea calls time, and Dermot and Wade groan in defeat. Then, Wade looks at the prompt.

“THAT THING IS SUPPOSED TO BE A GODDAMN BICYCLE?!”

“I’m sorry!”

“For fuck’s sake—”

The two argue (more like Wade bitches about losing while Dermot apologizes profusely for his lack of artistic skill) as Laura and Yukio get ready for their turn. Dermot tries to explain the exact parts of the bicycle he had drawn, and Logan lets out a snort at Wade’s appalled reaction.

“So,” Logan says as the next round begins, “Dermot’s okay with this?”

Vanessa turns to him with raised eyebrows. “‘This’...?” she trails off.

“You and Wade still being close enough for game nights?”

(That’s an understatement to say the least. The two meet each other for coffee once every other week and maintain a long text thread filled with gossip and life updates. Vanessa always kisses his cheek hello and Wade never hesitates to hug her goodbye.)

Her expression softens. “Dermot’s the most patient and understanding guy I know. I could never just abandon Wade, and he gets that.” She shrugs. “Game nights are nothing.”

“Hrm,” Logan grunts.

“Besides, Dermot likes hanging out with us,” she says. “I know Wade thinks he’s super boring, but it just means that whatever the fuck is going on in this apartment is already more than enough entertainment for him.”

Logan grunts again.

“What I’m surprised about is how chill you are with me, big guy,” she admits. When he makes a sound of confusion, she bumps her shoulder with his. “I could ask you the same thing, you know? Wonder why you’re okay with me still being close to Wade.”

Ever since he and Wade became official, Logan has managed to keep his simmering jealousy under control, if with a fair amount of difficulty. It’s not like anybody would be okay with their partner being best friends with their ex-fiancée, and Vanessa is still a huge presence in Wade’s life. Perhaps they’re not as inseparable as Wade and Logan are, but they’re still much closer than most would expect. Their casual physicality used to bother Logan to no end, even though both of them have reassured him that they really are nothing more than friends now.

Truthfully, Logan doesn’t know how the two manage to keep such a comfortable friendship after breaking off an entire engagement, but he doesn’t have it in him to worsen their relationship. It’s not just because Wade basically saved the entire universe for her, or that Vanessa is always so kind to him and doesn’t deserve Logan’s ire. He knows that Wade and Vanessa are good for each other in ways that he might never understand. And, at the end of the day, Logan is the one Wade will always come home to.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes he made in his old world and lose his family all over again.

Which means letting go of his pride, reigning in his possessive streak, and letting his boyfriend’s ex and her new boyfriend hang out in their apartment on game nights.

“You make Wade happy,” he answers honestly. “That's enough for me.”

Vanessa gently pats his hand, flashing him a small smile, and Logan knows that he’s doing the right thing because she stays in Wade’s life.

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+1. Logan

Wade and Logan are just outside of Who Gives A Fuck Town in It Doesn’t Matter State on a non-official X-Men mission. Charles had let them know about yet another Weapon X branch that popped up, blah blah blah, everyone knows the plot from here. The most important part is that the facility is so small that it technically doesn’t exist—even in a super secret underground government capacity—so dismantling it is out of the X-Men’s jurisdiction.

It’s a good thing Deadpool isn’t an X-Man then.

Wolverine tagging along on a freelance basis just happens to be a lovely bonus. Besides, Wade is all for letting his boyfriend take a much deserved slice of revenge pie against the program that tortured him.

Before they left, Hank gave them everything they needed to shut the shit down. From what X-Men’s intel could gather, the facility is laughably tiny and understaffed, with less than five so-called “test subjects” (gross) being experimented on. Once he and Logan subdue all the baddies and free the patients, all they have to do is plug in a USB to download the facility’s files before activating a trigger that completely corrupts their digital infrastructure. Typical superhero shit.

When they arrive, they’re met with what appears to be an abandoned specialty clinic about half an hour away from the closest town. The building is dilapidated and depressing as all hell—Wade is going to thoroughly enjoy fucking up the place and the shitheads in it.

Once they handle the expected group of gunmen that try (and hilariously fail) to stop Deadpool and Wolverine, they do unfortunately hit one snag: one of the patients apparently mutated into a slightly smaller, femme Juggernaut. Subduing her takes considerably more time than expected. Luckily for them, she isn’t wearing any protective gear—just her Weapon X uniform. After Logan gets thrown into the ceiling, Wade telepathically yells at Charles for help to take her down, and before long she’s passed out on the floor.

(Thank fuck old Chucky-boy can do that, to be honest. Wade almost wishes he could do the same, but he knows he enjoys violence too much to take the easy way out.)

He runs over to where Logan is groaning under the remains of the ceiling. After uncovering Logan from the debris, he’s able to stand up on his own when Wade pulls him up by the hand.

“You good, honey badger?” he asks, patting him down and assessing for any major injuries.

(If he happens to cop a feel of Logan’s giant arms and tits, he’s just trying to be thorough!)

“Yeah,” Logan says, slapping Wade’s hands away before wiping off excess dust and debris. “Just knocked my head a bit.”

Wade lifts his mask just enough to smack a kiss onto Logan’s cheek. Elbowing him playfully, he says, “Good thing your skull is made of metal, huh?”

Logan just shoves him with a dismissive noise in response, making Wade laugh as he pulls down his mask again.

They split up after that, Logan going to the holding room where the other patients are while Wade skips over to the control room to download this shithole’s entire digital existence. He quickly finds a computer and plugs in Hank’s USB, letting the device do its thing. In the distance, he can hear Logan easily taking down another group of armed men, presumably the guards in charge of keeping the patients in their fucked up prison test tubes.

When the computer beeps at him in completion, Wade hums as he pulls out the USB and makes his way over to where Logan and the others are. He’s about to turn the corner when he hears Logan talking to someone.

“I gotta ask,” a male voice (likely one of the guards) says, “are you dating Deadpool?”

Now that makes Wade pause in the middle of his stride. He stops at the room’s entrance, standing in the hallway because he doesn’t want to interrupt the conversation taking place. It’d be rude, after all.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business, bub.”

“It’s just—I heard him flirting with you the whole time before you walked in here, man.”

“Still none of your fuckin’ business.”

“That’s not a no.”

Nope, Wade readily agrees, it certainly isn’t!

“The fuck is it to ya if I was?” Logan grumbles.

“I mean, really?” the guy says in a tone a little too incredulous for Wade’s liking. “What the hell do you see in that asshole?”

If he didn’t already ask himself the exact same thing a dozen times a day, Wade would be even more pissed than he already is at how disgusted the dickwad sounds. Give him some fucking credit!

He’s about to announce his presence—and extreme displeasure—when Logan growls, “He makes me laugh, you shithead.”

The statement is followed by the familiar sound of someone getting punched, a pained yowl, then silence. Wade stands quietly in the hallway, chest filling with warmth as he smiles to himself like an idiot in love.

(Well, he is an idiot in love. God’s perfect idiot, actually, and very much in love with Logan Howlett the Wolverine.)

“Hey, peanut!” he finally calls out, stepping into the room as he holds up the USB. “I got everything Hank asked for.”

They easily wrap up the mission from there but, to Wade, that’s not the biggest success he walks away with that day.

He makes me laugh, you shithead.

Oh, Wade cannot wait to unleash that tidbit one day.

——————————————

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1. Dopinder

Dopinder’s driving Logan and Wade to a drop-off point where they’ll meet the X-Men for their next mission. When they first left the apartment, Wade had loaded up with Logan in the back. After about five minutes of highway traffic, the idiot decided to start squeezing his way into the passenger’s seat to sit next to Dopinder.

On the one hand, Logan’s pissed that Wade is pulling this shit. Getting kicked in the face by one of Wade’s boots when he squeezes into the taxi’s partition certainly doesn’t help.

On the other... well, it’s a great view of Wade’s ass.

(He will never admit that he kind of, maybe likes sitting next to Wade; finds his presence comforting before big missions like this one. But he’s not a fool. They may be dating but Logan’s never going to admit anything out loud, lest Wade starts to annoy him even more than he already does.)

Logan tunes out Wade and Dopinder easily, his mind occupied by mentally reviewing the details of their mission. He only tunes back in after another five minutes of traffic because Dopinder says something that piques his interest.

“But why does Peter get to go on X-Force missions and I don’t?” the cab driver whines, and Logan’s ear twitches at the name.

Dopinder can’t possibly mean Peter W—

“Because sugar bear is a bit more insane than you, my little toaster that could,” Wade answers easily.

Which means, yes, the two are talking about Peter Wisdom, Wade’s middle-aged ex-coworker from the Drive Max car dealership. Even though Peter had shown up in an ill-fitting Deadpool suit while fighting the Deadpool Corps, Logan still has no idea what the hell Dopinder’s talking about. He thought Peter’s interference during the Time Ripper fiasco was a random one-off thing. Does that mean Wade lets Peter tag along on missions regularly?

”I can be insane!” Dopinder retaliates. “I ran over than pervy orphanage headmaster, didn’t I?”

Wade nods. “That you did, Dopinder, that you did.”

“He fuckin’ what now?” Logan interjects, because the cab driver did what?

“Don’t you worry about it, honey badger,” Wade waves him off easily. “It was in the second movie—I’ll give you the run down later. It was actually pretty hilarious though, I’ll admit—”

“And I’m great at humour!” Dopinder points out. “You just said it yourself!”

“You don’t need an excellent sense of humour to become a hitman, but it does certainly help, in my very humble opinion,” Wade concedes. He looks out the window. “And yes, I said humble, not honest—you can pry that from my dead body, which is fucking never.”

Logan’s getting whiplash already and their mission hasn’t even started yet. What the fuck are they talking about? Dopinder wants to be a hitman? And is asking Wade for advice?

Logan can’t dwell on his questions for long because Wade turns back to Dopinder with a sigh. “Listen, buddy, I already told you what you needed to hear last time: You’re an eagle and you gotta spread your wings! Seize the opportunity! Carpe that diem and all that jazz!”

He catches Dopinder’s confused expression. “I-I don’t recall you ever saying that...?”

“I agree that the metaphor was severely lost when I said it but I did say it!” Wade insists.

“O-okay... But then how am I supposed to seize it, Mr. Pool?”

“Just like you did with that pedophilic shitstain at the orphanage!” Wade pats Dopinder’s shoulder reassuringly. “When the time comes, you’ll know, my young Padawan.”

“I suppose...” he trails off with a nod. “Thank you, DP.”

Wade bows his head regally. “I am but your noble Jedi master.”

Logan almost feels dizzy by the exchange that just flew past him. Between Dopinder admitting he ran over a pedophile and Peter apparently being more insane than that, he almost misses the sincerity in their conversation. Dopinder looks genuinely comforted by Wade’s advice, which itself is surprisingly honest and helpful.

Who would’ve thought?

“Okay, we’re here!” Dopinder presses a button on the fare counter, where Logan catches the $38.19 price tag before Dopinder resets the machine back to zero. Logan’s about to ask why he did that even though they haven’t paid yet when Dopinder says, “Put it on your tab?”

“As always, my favourite cabbie.”

“Your tab?” Logan asks.

“Oh, DP doesn’t bring his wallet on missions,” Dopinder explains. “Ruins the lines of his suit.”

Wade shoots finger guns at him. “You got that right!”

“Are you fucking serio—you’re a dickhead, bub,” Logan sighs, reaching for his pocket. “Dopinder, I’ll cover the fare this time.”

“No, no! It’s okay, Mr. Wolverine, sir!” Dopinder shakes his head. “DP always pulls through when it comes to paying me back.”

“Peanut, I’m insulted you’d think I wouldn’t pay this earth angel,” Wade gasps, hand on his chest. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“A mooch who also doesn’t pay rent on time.”

“How dare you! I always make things work.” Wade turns to caress Dopinder’s ear, and Logan suppresses the urge to start growling. “Don’t listen to him—our system is perfect and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

Dopinder laughs.

Wade unlocks his seatbelt. “High tens until next time?”

Dopinder raises his palms to meet Wade’s. “Until next time!”

As he exits the taxi, Logan wonders if he even wants to know what the hell just happened in front of him. Wade and Dopinder seem content though, so he leaves it be.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

2. Peter

Logan finishes jogging with Mary Puppins for her morning walk when he strolls up to their apartment. He’s not sure why Peter is there, just that the man greets him at the door when Logan comes home.

“Hey, Logan! Miss Puppins!” Peter says cheerfully, opening the door for the two to step in.

“Welcome back, honey badger!” he hears Wade call from the kitchen. “And welcome back to my little princess, too!”

Mary immediately skitters over to Wade’s open arms. Logan hums his hello before heading to the bathroom to take a shower. Once he’s done and changed, he steps into the living room to find Peter and Wade talking over coffee at the kitchen table while Mary naps on her bed in the corner. Logan walks over to pour himself a cup before grabbing the morning paper off the kitchen counter.

“Pfft, you’re such an old man,” Wade teases.

Logan doesn’t even bother dignifying that with a response and simply kisses Wade’s temple to properly greet him now that he’s cleaned up. Taking a seat, he lifts the broadsheet to his face after sipping his coffee.

“Hey, don’t make fun—I read the paper too!” Peter pokes Wade on the arm. “Anyway, did you give Agent B-15 my email?”

Logan isn’t even looking at him, but he can hear the utterly baffled face that Wade is making when he says, “Why the fuck would she need your email?”

He doesn’t expect Peter’s response at all.

“We kissed!”

He nearly drops the newspaper.

“Excuse the fuck outta your beautiful moustache?!” Wade exclaims.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Peter sounds honest in his confusion.

“No, the flying fuck you did not!”

Logan does his best to continue reading, but between the close proximity and Wade being loud as ever, it’s hard to ignore their conversation. He at least tries to make it look like he’s not blatantly listening to them, only peering over the top edge of the newspaper when Wade and Peter aren’t looking at him.

“Oh!” Peter pauses, and Logan catches a sheepish smile crossing his face. “Well, yeah, we kissed.”

Logan can’t describe the high-pitched noise that escapes Wade—he’s not entirely sure there are words in the English language that can.

“I’m so happy for you, sugar bear!” Wade cheers, leaning over to wrap Peter in a hug. If they were standing, Logan’s positive that he’d sweep Peter right off the floor. “Way to land a babe!”

When he releases a now laughing Peter, Wade punches him in the shoulder. Peter’s laugh quickly turns into a yelp.

“Ow!”

“Now, why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Wade demands.

Rubbing his shoulder with a whine, Peter says, “I really thought I did! I told—oh.”

“‘Oh’?!”

The appalled expression on Wade’s face is so hilarious that Logan has to cover his face with the paper again to hide his own laugh.

“Maybe I didn’t tell you,” Peter agrees. “I forgot I only told two people.”

“Before me?!”

Logan subtly drops his newspaper again just in time to catch Peter’s pinched expression. He takes another sip of coffee while Peter tilts his head side to side in a so-so motion.

“Um, technically you? Kidpool and Headpool live with me now—”

“WHAT.”

“—and I guess I mixed them up with you, ha!” Peter scratches the back of his head with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

Wade takes a very deep breath, resting his elbows on the table to fold his hands together with a dramatic flourish.

He then begins to count with his fingers as he asks, “One: Did you fucking adopt two AU versions of me? Two: Whatever. I’m still so happy for you!”

Peter’s smile returns, growing even wider. “Thank you!”

“Now,” Wade squeals, “spill the tea, sugar bear! I want all the deets.”

He grabs both of Peter’s hands, practically vibrating in his seat like a high schooler listening to the latest gossip about the popular kids at school. It reminds Logan of the students at the X-Mansion back in his old world, way back when.

“Was there tongue? Hand action? Groin action?” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows.

“Oh, gosh, Wade, I—”

Wade’s face splits into a scandalized grin. “There was?!”

Even Logan’s eyebrows jump at that.

“No!” Peter immediately cuts in. “But, um, she was the one that kissed me.” His smile turns more bashful, red now colouring his face.

Wade nods at him encouragingly. “And...?!”

Peter squirms excitedly in his seat. “And she waved me goodbye.”

“FUCKIN’ SCORE!”

Wade reaches a palm out that Peter meets with a high-five.

“Thank you, buddy!”

The two continue to talk about Peter’s apparently budding relationship with B-15, as well as how the hell he ended up with Kidpool and Headpool. All the while, Logan continues to read his paper and drink his coffee, confused but appreciative of Peter’s grounding presence whenever Wade starts going off the rails.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

3. Althea

At first, Wade’s friendship with Althea baffled Logan. But within 24 hours of living with them he realized why they’re thick as thieves: Neither of them takes the other’s bullshit. It’s apparent when Wade steers Althea into making better choices than spending a whole afternoon snorting cocaine, and Althea yells at Wade to act like an adult human being.

“Motherfucker, I wish left your sorry-ass homeless all those years ago,” she had hissed after Wade, yet again, said something stupid. Logan immediately became on edge—was this really happening at his first dinner here?

But Wade didn’t bite back. Instead, he had calmly asked, “Then who would be the one paying for the Hulu account?”

“Bitch, do you think I can’t swap out Disney for Hulu?”

“No, I think you wouldn’t realize that I cancelled your D+ subscription six months ago because you hated the fucking mid-rolls.”

“Oh, right.” Althea had made a face, apparently remembering she said that. “Well, shit. Thank you, baby.”

“Yeeeup, that’s what I thought,” Wade had replied easily, shovelling more food into his mouth. “Also,” he muffled around a mouthful, “you’re welcome.”

“Don’t talk with food in your fucking mouth!” she chided, smacking her hand in Wade’s general direction.

Wade just stuck his tongue out at her with a disgusting mound of chewed up food, making a taunting noise as he did.

“The dipshit is sticking his tongue out at me, isn’t he?”

Logan could only nod. “Yes, he is.”

And that’s how their banter goes.

It especially turns up when they watch reality TV together. Logan doesn’t get the appeal, probably never will, but he does find it amusing to see how passionate both Wade and Althea are over who wins this week’s challenge, or who gets eliminated from the island, or who takes home the grand prize at the end.

“I swear to god,” Althea grouches one evening, “if that bitch Claire gets a rose and Tamia doesn’t—”

“You fuckin’ said it, Al!”

“My ass is blind and I can still see that she’s gonna divorce that boy two months in.”

“Exactly!”

The two argue over the contestants they like, shit-talk the contestants they hate, and argue during commercials over why their favourite deserves to win with an intensity that would probably count as verbal assault in the legal system. Whenever Wade gets up for drinks and snacks, he never asks Althea if she wants anything. He automatically grabs her favourites from the kitchen and sits back down without missing a beat of whatever heated debate they’re in. Althea wordlessly passes Wade the tissue box when he starts pulling down his sleeves to cover his face because a kid/widowed spouse/senior contestant tells their sob story during solo interviews.

Neither of them ever hesitate to lean their head on the other’s shoulder, or hold hands when things on screen get intense.

Once the show is over, Wade allows Althea to berate him for keeping her up way past bedtime, goddamn it, I’m gonna be late for bingo again. And Althea allows Wade to bid her goodnight by calling her a geriatric cunt who can’t hang out with young things like me anymore!

(This is, of course, regardless of how late they actually stay up, because Althea never gets out of bed before 10am. Bingo starts at 9.)

They do this every night when Wade isn’t on a mission. In fact, Logan eventually realizes that Wade is usually the one who reminds Althea when their programming is on, mostly because when he and Wade are gone for jobs, she’s more than happy to catch up on their shows by herself.

Logan suspects that Wade not only enjoys their routine, but probably needs it more than Althea does.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

4. X-Men

At the next mission, he’s waiting with Negasonic and Yukio at the X-Mansion while Wade runs off to find Colossus. Logan just rips the Band-Aid off.

“Why the hell are you two friends with him?” He jerks his head towards the direction Wade left.

“I’m not,” Ellie says.

“She is,” Yukio says. Ellie rolls her eyes and playfully pokes her girlfriend in the side. “Also,” Yukio continues with a sincere smile, “Wade is always nice to me.”

Logan grunts his acceptance at that—this universe’s Yukio is so friendly to everyone, he’s not surprised Wade took a liking to her. What she sees in Wade, he still has no clue, but he’s less perplexed by their friendship considering that (to Logan’s knowledge) Wade’s interests align with hers.

Eloise, on the other hand, he is still confused over. So Logan presses on, undeterred. “I’m surprised you haven’t blasted him to smithereens,” he says to her.

“I have.” After a pause, she tilts her head with a pinched expression. “Well, kinda.” At Logan’s concerned silence, she explains, “He was on top of a raft and I blew him up to the sky to help him save Vanessa.”

Logan has no idea what to say to that, so he goes back to his original point: “That doesn’t explain why you’re friends with him.”

He and Ellie stare at each other in silence.

“This ain’t an interrogation, bub,” he eventually says, voice soft. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t wanna.”

Ellie continues to stare at him, clearly trying to figure out if Logan has an ulterior motive. As curious as he is, he’s honest about not pushing her if she doesn’t want to tell him anything.

Finally, she sighs, crossing her arms. “He didn’t make fun of my codename.”

That... is not the answer he was expecting. “Really?”

Yukio wraps an arm around Ellie’s waist as she says, “From what I’ve heard, it’s actually quite sweet!”

“No, it isn’t,” Ellie refutes. “He just happened to be the first one to tell me it wasn’t weird or stupid.”

Negasonic Teenage Warhead is a mouthful, Logan does not say out loud.

“I thought he called it ‘the coolest name ever’?” Yukio asks with an innocent look on her face. Ellie rolls her eyes again but doesn’t dispute anything.

She then adds, “He also changed the labelling system in the kitchen from tape to velcro labels.” She looks away, but Logan can see the fondness cracking through her expression all the same. “But I’m pretty sure he only did that because he saw me bitching about people stealing my shit all the time and ripping off my labels.”

“Wade’s super nice,” Yukio confirms with a nod.

Logan mulls over this information with a quiet hum and a nod of his own.

Later, once the mission is completed and everyone is scattered around to help victims or talk to the authorities, Logan manages to corner Colossus alone.

“Eloise tells me you are ‘grilling people’ about Wade, yes?” he asks in lieu of a greeting. Apparently, the Russian has been expecting him.

Logan doesn’t give a spoken answer but Piotr accepts his silence as one nonetheless. He places his hands on his hips, looking away to nod at Wade in the distance. Logan follows his gaze to find Wade with Laura, the two of them sitting with a little boy and girl—siblings, if Logan had to guess. It looks like Wade is trying to teach the three of them a hand-clap game.

“Wade is... not always good man,” Piotr starts, “but he can be. And he always give second chances, even to people who may not deserve it.”

Logan recalls Wade telling him about his misadventures with X-Force after their ride with Dopinder. “Like that Russell kid?”

“Yes,” he concedes, “but also me.”

“Hm?” He turns to look up at the giant again with a raised eyebrow.

Piotr meets his gaze. “He has told you I left him to Ice Box?”

“Hrm,” he grunts in assent. Logan knows better than to comment on that whole situation, even if he did get super pissed when Wade told him that the X-Men punished him and the kid so harshly.

“I did not give him second chance after his first and only mission as trainee,” Piotr admits with a regretful shake of his head, “but he still came to me for help with Russell, even after I betrayed him.

“He believed that I, a hero, could still save someone after I refused to save him.”

Piotr’s eyes wander back over to where Wade is, whose hands are in the air as he enthusiastically elaborates on something to a very patient Laura. The two siblings laugh at something he says.

“Wade is not perfect,” Piotr finally rumbles, “but perhaps what he is doesn’t need to be.”

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5. Vanessa

Civilian life does not suit Wade at all. Logan’s barely been in this timeline for a year and even he knows how goddamn awful Wade is at anything resembling normalcy. However, the one thing he apparently kept from his brief stint at it was game nights.

(Logan supposes there are worse things Wade could’ve continued doing, like using that god awful toupee that Wade still vehemently denies is a toupee.)

The majority of Wade’s game collection is of the tabletop variety. Logan knows the popular board game classics like Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, Candyland—but there’s also card games with names like Exploding Cats and Cards Against Humanity.

(Wade and Althea have strict rules to never bring Monopoly, Settlers of Catan, or Uno into the apartment. Logan doesn’t bother asking why.)

Tonight they settle on Pictionary, with teams split into pairs randomized by an online generator: Laura and Yukio, Dopinder and Negasonic, Peter and Colossus, Vanessa and Logan, Dermot and Wade. Althea opts to be the referee and time keeper.

It’s unfortunate that Wade wasn’t drawn as the pair’s illustrator (he’s surprisingly competent with crayons when given the chance) but that leaves Dermot as their artist, and he starts drawing god knows what as Wade yells nonsense guesses.

“A donkey? A horse riding a donkey! Donkey on a princess carriage?”

“No!” Dermot cries in despair.

Wade puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, not a donkey at all, what the fuck—”

Logan doesn’t even try suppressing his fond smile at his boyfriend’s increasing frustration. Wade looks ready to flip a table with each passing second—though, to be completely fair to him, Logan also has no idea what the hell Dermot is supposed to be drawing.

Since he and Vanessa already finished their turn (they got “chess” as their prompt, for which Vanessa drew the board and pieces easily), they sit next to each other on the sofa, watching their struggling partners with amusement.

“Last minute!” Althea calls out.

“Fuck!”

“Oh god, shoot, okay—”

Logan gently nudges Vanessa’s side with an elbow. “Shouldn’t you be saving your boyfriend from this? I think Wade’s about to pull out Baby Knife.”

“Nah,” Vanessa giggles, waving a dismissive hand. “They’re both adults—they can handle a round of Pictionary.”

Logan shoots her a skeptical look. “I disagree with Wade being an adult, but sure.”

Vanessa giggles again, her laughter turning into a cackle when Althea calls time, and Dermot and Wade groan in defeat. Then, Wade looks at the prompt.

“THAT THING IS SUPPOSED TO BE A GODDAMN BICYCLE?!”

“I’m sorry!”

“For fuck’s sake—”

The two argue (more like Wade bitches about losing while Dermot apologizes profusely for his lack of artistic skill) as Laura and Yukio get ready for their turn. Dermot eventually tries to explain the exact parts of the bicycle he had drawn, and Logan lets out a snort at Wade’s appalled expression.

“So,” Logan says as the next round begins, “Dermot’s okay with this?”

Vanessa turns to him with raised eyebrows. “‘This’...?” she trails off.

“You and Wade still being close enough for game nights?”

(That’s an understatement to say the least. The two meet each other for coffee once every other week and maintain a long text thread filled with gossip and life updates. Vanessa always kisses his cheek hello and Wade never hesitates to hug her goodbye.)

Her expression softens. “Dermot’s the most patient and understanding guy I know. I could never just abandon Wade, and he gets that.” She shrugs. “Game nights are nothing.”

“Hrm,” Logan grunts.

“Besides, Dermot likes hanging out with us,” she says. “I know Wade thinks he’s super boring, but it just means that whatever the fuck is going on in this apartment is already more than enough entertainment for him.”

Logan grunts again.

“What I’m surprised about is how chill you are with me, big guy,” she admits. When Logan makes a sound of confusion, she bumps her shoulder with his. “I could ask you the same thing, you know? Wonder why you’re okay with me still being close to Wade.”

Ever since he and Wade became official, Logan has managed to keep his simmering jealousy under control, if with a fair amount of difficulty. It’s not like anybody would be okay with their partner being best friends with their ex-fiancée, and Vanessa is still a huge presence in Wade’s life. Perhaps they’re not as inseparable as Wade and Logan are, but they’re still much closer than most would expect. Their casual physicality used to bother Logan to no end, even though both of them have reassured him that they really are nothing more than friends now.

Truthfully, Logan doesn’t know how the two manage to keep such a comfortable friendship after breaking off an entire engagement, but he doesn’t have it in him to worsen their relationship. It’s not just because Wade basically saved the entire universe for her, or that Vanessa is always so kind to him and doesn’t deserve Logan’s ire. He knows that Wade and Vanessa are good for each other in ways that he might never understand. And, at the end of the day, Logan is the one Wade will always come home to.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes he made in his old world and lose his family all over again.

Which means letting go of his pride, reigning in his possessive streak, and letting his boyfriend’s ex and her new boyfriend hang out in their apartment on game nights.

“You make Wade happy,” he answers honestly. “That's enough for me.”

Vanessa gently pats his hand, flashing him a small smile, and Logan knows that he’s doing the right thing because she stays in Wade’s life.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

+1. Logan

Wade and Logan are just outside of Who Gives A Fuck Town in It Doesn’t Matter State on a non-official X-Men mission. Charles had let them know about yet another Weapon X branch that popped up, blah blah blah, everyone knows the plot from here. The most important part is that the facility is so small that it technically doesn’t exist—even in a super secret underground government capacity—so dismantling it is out of the X-Men’s jurisdiction.

It’s a good thing Deadpool isn’t an X-Man then.

Wolverine tagging along on a freelance basis just happens to be a lovely bonus. Besides, Wade is all for letting his boyfriend take a much deserved slice of revenge pie against the program that tortured him.

Before they left, Hank gave them everything they needed to shut the shit down. From what X-Men’s intel could gather, the facility is laughably tiny and understaffed, with less than five so-called “test subjects” (gross) being experimented on. Once he and Logan subdue all the baddies and free the patients, all they have to do is plug in a USB to download the facility’s files before activating a trigger that completely corrupts their digital infrastructure. Typical superhero shit.

When they arrive, they’re met with what appears to be an abandoned specialty clinic about half an hour away from the closest town. The building is dilapidated and depressing as all hell—Wade is going to thoroughly enjoy fucking up the place and the shitheads in it.

Once they handle the expected group of gunmen that try (and hilariously fail) to stop Deadpool and Wolverine, they do unfortunately hit one snag: one of the patients apparently mutated into a slightly smaller, femme Juggernaut. Subduing her takes considerably more time than expected. Luckily for them, she isn’t wearing any protective gear—just her Weapon X uniform. After Logan gets thrown into the ceiling, Wade telepathically yells at Charles for help to take her down, and before long she’s passed out on the floor.

(Thank fuck old Chucky-boy can do that, to be honest. Wade almost wishes he could do the same, but he knows he enjoys violence too much to take the easy way out.)

He runs over to where Logan is groaning under the remains of the ceiling. After uncovering Logan from the debris, he’s able to stand up on his own once Wade pulls him up by the hand.

“You good, honey badger?” he asks, patting him down and assessing for any major injuries.

(If he happens to cop a feel of Logan’s giant arms and tits, he’s just trying to be thorough!)

“Yeah,” Logan says, slapping Wade’s hands away before wiping off excess dust and debris. “Just knocked my head a bit.”

Wade lifts his mask just enough to smack a kiss onto Logan’s cheek. Elbowing him playfully, he says, “Good thing your skull is made of metal, huh?”

Logan just shoves him with a dismissive noise in response, making Wade laugh as he pulls down his mask again.

They split up after that, Logan going to the holding room where the other patients are while Wade skips over to the control room to download this shithole’s entire digital existence. He quickly finds a computer and plugs in Hank’s USB, letting the device do its thing. In the distance, he can hear Logan easily taking down another group of armed men, presumably the guards in charge of keeping the patients in their fucked up little prison test tubes.

When the computer beeps at him in completion, Wade hums as he pulls out the USB and makes his way over to where Logan and the others are. He’s about to turn the corner when he hears Logan talking to someone.

“I gotta ask,” a male voice (likely one of the guards) says, “are you dating Deadpool?”

Now that makes Wade pause in the middle of his stride. He stops at the room’s entrance, standing in the hallway because he doesn’t want to interrupt the conversation taking place. It’d be rude, after all.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business, bub.”

“It’s just—I heard him flirting with you the whole time before you walked in here, man.”

“Still none of your fuckin’ business.”

“That’s not a no.”

Nope, Wade readily agrees, it certainly isn’t!

“The fuck is it to ya if I was?” Logan grumbles.

“I mean, really?” the guy says in a tone a little too incredulous for Wade’s liking. “What the hell do you see in that asshole?”

If he didn’t already ask himself the exact same thing a dozen times a day, Wade would be pissed at how disgusted the dickwad sounds. Give him some fucking credit!

He’s about to announce his presence—and extreme displeasure—when Logan growls, “He makes me laugh, you shithead.”

The statement is followed by the familiar sound of someone getting punched, a pained yowl, then silence. Wade stands quietly in the hallway, chest filling with warmth as he smiles to himself like an idiot in love.

(Well, he is an idiot in love. God’s perfect idiot, actually, and very much in love with Logan Howlett the Wolverine.)

“Hey, peanut!” he finally calls out, stepping into the room as he holds up the USB. “I got everything Hank asked for.”

They easily wrap up the mission from there but, to Wade, that’s not the biggest success he walks away with that day.

He makes me laugh, you shithead.

Oh, Wade cannot wait to unleash that tidbit one day.

——————————————

Althea barks out a hollow laugh. “You keep calling the damn thing a spy machine—”

“Because I don’t trust it!”

“—but you keep it right there anyway.” She scoffs, making her way to the fridge. “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Well, it’s also convenient!” Wade argues. “Do you miss when I used to shoot the lights off?”

“What the fuck?” Logan says again, but for a completely different reason this time.

“Listen,” Wade starts, and from his tone Logan can tell some bullshit is about to leave his mouth, “sometimes a guy just wants to pass out after walking in at ass o’clock in the morning without having to get up when he forgets to deal with the lights!”

“So you shot the damn lights out?” Logan guesses. “Is that why all the light switch panels are just exposed? Because you shot the fuckin’ plates off?”

“Alexa, tell peanut to stop bullying me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that command,” the device says. “Would you like to—”

“Alexa, shut up.”

The cylinder goes quiet with a beep.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wade says before Logan gets a chance to berate him more. “Did your world not have Echos?”

“We did,” he admits, “but they were called Alexis.”

“Like Texas!” Wade shoots him a wink before chuckling to himself.

(Presumably to himself, because Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about, as usual.)

Before either of them can elaborate, Althea yells from where she’s bent over in front of the open fridge, “Wade, did you put the fucking milk carton back empty again?!”

Their attention quickly shifts from there.

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The next time Logan notices, it’s over something equally innocuous.

He and Wade hate talking to the authorities when they finish a mission, but none of the X-Men who are way better suited to dealing with humans made it in time to stop their target. He and Wade finished the job before those asscracks even left the X-Mansion, which meant the two of them had to deal with the aftermath until someone more qualified arrived.

“I’ll play you for it!” Wade finally suggests after five whole minutes of arguing over who should talk to the police chief.

He sticks his hands out, a fist over a flat palm. Logan rolls his eyes but dutifully mimics the gesture.

“After three, okay?” Wade clarifies. “No cheating!”

“Let’s just get this the fuck over with.”

Wade nods once.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” he counts as Logan simultaneously chimes, “Paper, scissors, rock, bang!”

They don’t even look to see who won. Instead, they mirror each other’s expression: one of total confusion.

“Mr. Deadpool? Mr. Wolverine?” a voice calls behind them—Logan recognizes it as one of the younger detectives Wade was speaking to earlier. “We need one of you now, please.”

He and Wade finally both look at their hands.

Fuck.

“Ha ha, sucker!” Wades hollers, his rock crushing Logan’s scissors. He only grunts in response when Wade quite literally skips away after slapping Logan on the ass. Logan turns around with a flat expression and follows the detective to where the police chief is giving a statement to some reporter.

Whatever. The sooner this is done the sooner he and Wade can go home.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Another time it happens, Logan’s not even sure if he even remembers the reference correctly.

He and Wade are at the X-Mansion for another mission, catching up with Ellie and Yukio inside the Blackbird jet while Colossus to grabs more a few more people. Logan’s not quite paying attention to the conversation’s details, more enamoured by the strange friendship the two girls have with Wade.

At some point, Ellie says something that makes Yukio giggle and shove her shoulder, causing Wade to cackle out, “Weird flex, but okay!”

Logan furrows his brows but doesn’t comment because Wade’s already pivoted the topic to something else.

He could swear that the saying was odd flex, but very well. If he actively recalls the kids from his old universe, that was what they used to say, right?

(Most days, he usually tries his best to not remember them. The pain may not be fresh anymore but it still hurts all the same. He’ll never be able to hear Kitty, or Jubilee, or Rogue, or Bobby cracking jokes he doesn’t understand but finds amusing nonetheless. Never again.)

Apparently, he’s still deep in thought by the time Laura walks up to him. Her face looks remarkably similar to one he sees on himself all the time—brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips turned downward. At least on Laura the expression looks like a cute pout compared to Logan’s usual, unimpressed glare.

“What’s wrong?” She looks to the other three still caught up in their conversation, not paying Logan any mind. “Did they say something?”

Logan shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling over the kids’ memes from his old life. He’s poked at those memories like an old bruise more than enough now.

“Nah,” he says, mostly telling the truth, “just remembered something.”

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He finally catches on by the following incident.

A song has been driving Logan fucking crazy for the past four hours. The goddamn earworm simply refuses to get out of his head, even with Wade’s incessant rambling at his phone in the background. What he’s blabbing about right this moment, Logan has no clue, because lyrics are on loop in his brain and he can’t hear anything above it.

Time for a replay session, he supposes, taking a seat in the living room. Hopefully making his ears bleed from the melody on constant repeat will finally get it out of his head.

“Hey, bub, can you play that ‘Vegas glowing’ song by Handsome Delight on the Alexis?” he interjects in the middle of Wade’s rant.

Wade furrows his hairless brow-line. “Come again? This time in my ear? Also, it’s still just Alexa.”

“You know,” Logan says, followed by a vague hum. “You walk in over time / ‘Cause we both know you’re mine / Fallin’ straight, don’t look down / Las Vegas glowin’ on the town,” he sings, hoping he has the correct lyrics. “That one?”

“One: Excellent singing, honey badger! Do you practice scales when I’m not listening? Because that voice is—” Wade cuts off to do a chef’s kiss with his fingers. “Two: Nope! Still no clue what that song is.”

“Stop fuckin’ with me, Wade.” Logan grunts, remembering how annoyingly often the song was playing on the radio when he was bar hopping earlier this year. Wade listens to pop music almost exclusively—there’s no way he would’ve escaped this song. “It was in the Top 40s for months. You had to have heard of this.”

Wade just blinks at him. “I really, truly have not.”

“Wait,” he pauses in realization, “does Handsome Delight not exist here?”

“Never heard of them!” Wade confirms, shaking his head and starts typing away on his phone. “Aaaaand Google here only pulls up a very adorable cake when I search that name.” He shows his screen to Logan, who grumbles in frustration after squinting at the results.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Why? What’s up, buttercup?”

“Shit. The damn song’s stuck in my head but I only know that stupid part.” He groans at himself, throwing his head back onto the couch, miffed that he can’t scratch the song’s itch like he thought. “I was hoping I could put it on repeat so I’d finally get it out of my system.”

“Sorry, peanut!” Wade pats his shoulder. “If it helps though, I can sing anything you want to rid you of the earworm plaguing you! I’ll be your personal jukebox!”

His answer is automatic. “I’d rather chop my ears off.”

Wade, obviously, starts singing anyway.

“You are! My fiiiire—”

Logan promptly sticks a claw into each ear. He might have pushed a little too far and nicked his brain a bit on both sides, which is just fine because the injury causes him to briefly pass out, a good solution as any at this point.

The last thing he sees is Wade’s comically dismayed face.

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Logan accepts that this universe is just weirdly different after one more incident.

He and Wade made it home too goddamn late last night after finishing a job that took way too fucking long, which meant they both pass out for a solid eight hours and wake up well past noon for their first meal of the day. Althea had already left to do her own business (Logan never asks her what she’s up to, and he’s probably better for it) and took along Mary Puppins, so it’s just him and Wade in the kitchen.

Wade’s already sitting at the table, digging into something from a silvery packet when Logan shuffles by.

“Mornin’, peanut.”

“Hrm.”

“Figured I’d get some real food later, but I’m too damn tired right now, so, y’know—” he lifts up what Logan finally sees is a Pop-Tart, “—Pop-Tarts.”

Logan assesses that he is also too damn tired to actually cook himself a meal, but also too hungry to ignore his appetite. He combs through the cupboards with a quiet hum until he can kick his ass to get some real food. He eventually decides to follow Wade’s lead to eat something now and order more food later, going to the cabinet and bypassing Wade’s stock of sugary children’s cereal for the Special K.

“Not digging into the Raisin Bran, old man?” Wade teases.

“I may be old,” he tosses right back, “but I don’t need to act like it too.” He grabs the milk (a new carton because Althea chewed Wade out last time), a bowl, and a spoon, bumping the utensil drawer closed with his hip. Then, he makes his way to the kitchen table to sit across from Wade.

As always, he pours the milk first.

“Logan,” Wade says slowly, his eyes growing wide with what looks like concern, “why the fuck are you pouring the milk before the cereal?”

“Because that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” Logan shoots him a bewildered look because that’s how everyone does it? He’s pretty sure it’s common knowledge to pour the milk first so you get an even distribution of crunch. He’s adding the cereal in when he asks, “What the fuck are you on about?”

Wade’s horrified gaze flickers back and forth between Logan and his bowl. “That’s so fucking cursed.”

At this point, Logan doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response, digging into his bowl with a dismissive grunt and shake of his head. He very purposefully ignores the implication that people on this planet pour the cereal first.

Now that’s fucking cursed.

Logan may have been engineered to be a wild animal, but he’s not a goddamn savage.

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&1

Logan finds out that Dolly Parton is still alive on this planet.

He considers forgiving the cereal before milk bullshit just for that.

——————————————

“Wade! For fuck’s sake, I can hear you leaving—don’t you dare walk away from me!”

“Don’t you dare walk away from meeeee!”

“Singing Whitney doesn’t answer my question about how the hell we’re fitting three people and a dog in here!”

“We’ve got a pull-out—haha, pull out—in the living room and an XL twin in the bedroom.”

“My bedroom, Wade!”

“Bub, are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Hey, if the fanfics can make it work, then we’ll make it work!”

“I cannot believe this shit. This dumbass never listens to me.”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ. Althea?”

“Yes, Logan?”

“Ya got any booze around?”

“I think there’s beer in the fridge.”

“Booze? Already? It’s not even—Al, what time is it?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Right, blind, can’t see the time.”

“If that wall clock’s right, it’s 3:14, bub.”

“It’s not even 4pm and you’re already drinking?!”

“If I have to put up with your hairless-brained bullshit, yes, I am.”

“I’d be more offended at that joke but I’m honestly impressed, pookie.”

“Seriously? For calling you bald?”

“His standards are in hell used as Satan’s spreader bar where he should’ve gone instead of rooming with me.”

“Hey!”

“Pfft!”

“Unbelievable, I can’t believe—oh, no! No no no no, Lady Leprosy With Legs, don’t nap in that! That’s where Daddy keeps his knives.”

“That’s what I’m trying to talk about, Wade! Where the hell is everyone supposed to sleep?”

“You and I can bunk together like we used to, Al. Logan can take the pull-out.”

“Oh, friggin’ hell—no. You and I will share that damn couch and Althea can keep her bed.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, sugar tits!”

“Now, what about the dog?”

“She’ll get a dog bed, duh.”

“What? D’ya just have a dog bed lying around somewhere?”

“I do, actually! But where did I put that thing?”

“Are you serious?”

“Convenient, huh! I found it in Al’s shit when we moved in together and decided to keep it. I’m guessing the author got too lazy trying to figure out a better way to include it in this fic.”

“...He just says shit sometimes. Don’t mind him, Logan.”

“I’m well aware. You’re a weirdo, bub.”

“Thank you! I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, if I remember right—SHIT!!!”

“What?!”

“The fuck’s happening?!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! There’s a rat!”

“A RAT?!”

“Althea, where did you get that gun—put it down!”

“POINT ME TO THE FUCKING RAT!”

“Al, put the fucking gun down!”

“GET RID OF THE RAT FIRST!”

“Arf!”

“Mary, don’t touch that thing!”

“Fuckin’ hell, bub, grab Mary while I—”

BANG!

“AL, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE—”

“Arf-arf! Rrrrruff!”

“WADE, GRAB THE GODDAMN DOG!”

“NO, GET THE FUCKING RAT FIRST!”

“Mary—!”

BANG!

“AH!!!”

“Althea!”

“Jack Kirby’s giant ballsack!”

“Did I get it?!”

“Fuck no! You hit me, you empty-eyed, shit-for-aim walking corpse!”

“Rrrrrrafff!”

“Logan, keep her from shooting this way!”

“Just let me aim for the fucking rat!”

“Althea, please just hand me—”

“Get your goddamn hands off my glock!”

“Then stop shooting!”

“Mary, wait—!”

BANG!

“Rrrrrragghhh!”

“Ho. ly. shit.”

“What the fuck happened? Did I get it? Is it dead?!”

“You’re such a good girl, yes, you are!”

“He better not be talking to me, I swear to god.”

“Little miss angel face here just caught our uninvited guest!”

“Grrrrrr.”

“Wade, get that thing out of her mouth before it catches rabies from her.”

“Wow, rude, she doesn’t have rabies! Also, I’m pretty sure it’s already dead. She’s got no teeth but a hell of a bite, don’t you, my lovely bundle of herpes and joy?”

“Just get the fucking thing out of here!”

“Ugh, fine, jeez louise—come here, girl. You did such a good job, yes you did! Thank you for killing that thing! Now, let’s go toss it out.”

“The dog caught the rat?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Well...I guess it can stay then.”

“Really? The dog’s already in your good graces?”

“You’re the one who tried grabbing my gun.”

“Because you were shooting everywhere!”

“And now you’re arguing with me!”

“...My apologies, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

“Just keep your word and it’s alright.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alrighty! Time to go look for that bed again.”

“Anybody want a beer?”

“Can you grab me one, Logan?”

“You already finished that whole can?!”

“‘Course I did. All that shit gave me headache.”

“Welcome to a day in the life of Deadpool and Blind Al, peanut!”

“I did this to myself. I chose to come here. How the fuck did that happen?”

“I wonder the same damn thing all the time.”

“Your beer.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“I can’t believe it’s been less than five minutes and both of you are already ganging up on me!”

“S’not hard to.”

“My Wolvie is so mean! Aha, here it is! I knew I still had the old thing. Here you go, my fearless guard dog.”

“It was a rat, not an intruder, Wade.”

“She protected the house and killed that pest. She’s practically a guardian angel!”

“Eh, good enough for me.”

“See, Al gets it!”

“I still ain’t looking after that thing.”

“That’s fine. Logan and I will!”

“I did not sign up for that.”

“You did when you agreed to crash with me!”

“Is he always like this, Althea?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Make yourself cozy, Logan, because it only gets better from here!”

“God help me.”

“God help us all.”

Logan now practically straddles Wade’s leg, his knees bracketing Wade’s right thigh in the backseat of this godforsaken vehicle. He sheathes his claws on one hand, opting to simply smash his knuckles into Wade’s face. The arm not dealing blows (haha, blows) shoves his claws into Wade’s shoulder and onto the seat. Wade is effectively pinned down, but by now he’s only halfheartedly stabbing Logan’s side with baby knife until Logan finally realizes why.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Logan pauses his fist’s tirade against Wade’s face.

“Whaaat?” he asks innocently, drawling out the syllable. Even though he knows Logan can’t see it right now, a shit-eating grin grows beneath his mask.

Logan scoffs in disgust. “Seriously, bub?” He presses one of his thighs to onto Wade’s very obvious erection.

“Hey, at least this time I’m awake for it!” Wade reasons. “And the only thing keeping me all nice and close is you, old man.” He squirms a little to prove his point, several areas of his body rubbing on Logan.

Logan grunts another noise of disgust. “I don’t understand why you don’t wear a cup, you goddamn lunatic.”

“I’m glad that’s the only issue you have about this, honey badger!” Wade happily quips back. He shifts his hips up, dick deliberately rutting into Logan’s thigh, not even bothering to stifle the pleased moan stuttering out of him. “Can’t say I miss having one on right now.”

With a growl, Logan grabs Wade by the mask and smacks the back of his head hard into the backseat. Wade thinks if he didn’t have whiplash or a concussion before, he definitely has both now.

Pain echoes in his skull as he yells out, “Fuck!”

Logan repeats the action, knocking Wade’s head onto the seat several times in quick succession, his grip on Wade’s mask pulling it halfway off and exposing his mouth. Wade can feel all kinds of bodily fluids—blood, drool, sweat, maybe some snot—dripping down his chin and onto his neck now that his mask isn’t catching the filth.

His body is then slightly jostled from Logan’s manhandling, which allows him to also feel (oh, fuck yes, that’s it) something else.

Logan lets go of his mask, bringing his arm back to unleash his claws with a snikt! He points them right in front of Wade, close enough Wade can basically breathe and close the distance.

“You,” Logan pants hard, nostrils flaring, “are a repulsive piece of shit.”

With his mouth exposed, Wade beams another nasty grin at Logan. It’s the only response he gives before licking one of the claws not even half an inch away from his lips. He cuts his mouth on it, of course, blood flooding everywhere and onto Logan’s claw. But he pays no mind, tilting his head slightly and immediately gliding his tongue down the smooth side of the blade while he meets Logan’s appalled glare.

“You’re a fuckin’ freak.”

Wade’s grin only widens. “And yet.”

He bucks up his hips to meet the growing tent in Logan’s pants. Logan hisses at the contact, looking down at his crotch in what Wade assumes is betrayal before meeting Wade’s gaze again with a sneer.

Because for all the beating he’s being served, there’s no way Wade would let Wolverine’s boner escape his notice since the fucking hypocrite doesn’t wear a cup either. Not that Logan’s dick is possible to ignore in the first place, considering how his clearly generous size is doing its damndest to break free from the jock he’s got on.

Fuck, Wade hopes that claws aren’t the only thing inside him today.

He mouths his way back to the end of the claw, staring Logan in the eyes as he begins to suck the tip into his mouth. He’s slow, actually trying to be careful for once because he doesn’t want to accidentally slice his tongue clean off. He’ll need it when he gets Logan’s cock into his mouth.

He pulls away with a muted pop!, a thin string of blood-tinted spit still connecting his lips to the claw.

“Seems like we match, kitty cat,” Wade croons, lifting his hips up to grind on Logan again. “Maybe my freak just matches yours.”

Logan growls, teeth bared as he digs the claws still in Wade’s shoulder even deeper. Wade unashamedly lets out another moan, and at this point he honestly can’t tell if it’s from pain or pleasure. Probably-most-definitely both.

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snarls, his other hand still threatening Wade with a lobotomy and then some.

Wade licks the tip of another claw.

“Then fucking make me.”

Logan hisses, pulling his claws out of Wade's shoulder. Wade gasps at the new pain now blooming in his shoulder wounds when Logan cups his hands on Wade’s cheeks and kisses him.

Though, it’s less of a kiss and more like Logan using his mouth to punch Wade’s.

Wade yelps at their teeth clacking together, the sound turning into a long moan when Logan shoves his tongue into his mouth. The kiss immediately turns dirty once Wade’s brain catches up to what’s happening, and Logan shifts to straddle his lap properly. The low groan that escapes Logan’s throat when he sinks into his lap and rubs their clothed boners will make an appearance in Wade’s spank bank for years to come, he’s sure of it.

His hands move to Logan’s waist, halfway to groping Logan’s ass, but he gets distracted by what Logan’s doing with his tongue. Apparently, Wade’s aborted attempt to grope his butt seems like hesitation, because Logan pulls away from Wade’s mouth long enough to growl, dropping a hand to push one of Wade’s onto a pert cheek.

“Either grab it or don’t,” Logan snarls. “None of that half-ass shit.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Wade smirks up at him, both hands sliding to Logan’s ass and gripping.

Logan gasps softly, arching his back to push into Wade’s palms. “Fuck, yes.”

Wade dives in for another kiss, their noses just barely avoiding an accidental, very un-sexy headbutt. Logan tugs at Wade’s mask and pulls it all the way off. Wade would protest because he already knows what Logan thinks of his appearance, but his entire brain is kind of focused on the taut muscles of Logan’s ass beneath his fingers and the taste of Logan’s mouth when he sighs.

“Off, off,” Logan pants, pawing at Wade’s pants after using his teeth to bite his gloves off.

He nods helplessly, removing his own gloves and unbuckling his utility belt, immediately going for his fly right after. His cock springs free from where it was trapped, aching and flushed red, and Wade can’t help but smile at the heated look he catches on Logan’s face.

“Looks like not wearing a cup was a good thing after all huh, Wolvie,” he says smugly.

Logan rolls his eyes, working on his own suit and shoving the jock down to free his own dick. Wade’s mouth literally starts salivating at the sight of Logan’s fully hard cock, long and thicker than he expected. At the base is a jungle of wiry hair that Wade can’t wait to bury his nose into once he gets Logan into his throat.

Logan frowns at him. “Quit starin’, bub.”

“Can’t help it when you’ve got a baby arm down there,” he replies easily. “How the fuck did you even fit that in your pants? The poor thing must’ve been suffocating!”

Logan unsheathes his claws on one hand, grazing the tips on Wade’s cheek. He’s pretty sure Logan breaks the skin there if the warmth dripping down his face is anything to go by.

“Shut the fuck up before I chop your dick off, Mouth,” Logan warns. Wade only laughs.

At Logan’s confused expression, Wade leans in to kiss him again, short and quick, before bucking his hips up. They both hiss when their cocks brush together, and Wade bites down on Logan’s bottom lip. With one hand he grabs Logan’s shoulder, the other slipping down to take both their cocks into a loose fist. He begins stroking slowly, heat pooling in his stomach when he feels Logan’s hips twitching into his grip. Wade moans again, mouth pulling away to kiss his way down Logan’s jaw and onto his neck.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps, “can barely get my hand around you, you’re fucking huge.” Logan groans into his ear, biting at Wade’s lobe.

At this point, Logan’s hands have snuck underneath Wade’s top, palming at whatever he can reach. Wade’s breath stutters when Logan rubs his nipples, which he clearly notices because the motherfucker starts to pinch both of them at the same time, rolling them in his fingers.

“Fuck!” Wade shouts at a particularly hard pinch, hand abruptly pausing mid-stroke.

“Yeah?” Logan pants, doing magical things to Wade’s nipples, and Wade can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Keep that up and this is going to end a lot sooner than we both want, honey badger,” he warns, nipping at the corner of Logan’s jaw.

“S’not my fault ya got sensitive nips,” Logan grumps but he releases Wade’s nipples anyway. His hands continue their earlier exploration of Wade’s skin, his breath catching in his throat whenever Logan’s nails scratch him.

He catches Logan in another bruising kiss, tongue licking the palate of Logan’s mouth. Wade begins stroking again, using his thumb to gather the precum leaking from both their cocks. It’s not enough, the friction still on the side of too dry, but Wade does not give a fuck and it seems that Logan doesn’t either. When he begins to rock his hips, Logan does the same, their rhythm already frantic and frenzied, and Wade closes his fist into a tighter circle.

Logan bucks his hips with a little too much gusto on an upstroke, nearly knocking them both off balance until he catches himself by stabbing the headrest next to Wade with his claws.

“Getting too excited there, big boy?” Wade’s lips brush Logan’s when he speaks. “Feel that good?”

“Fuck no.”

There’s a tiny part of Wade that hurts at the words but he ignores it in favour of catching Logan’s lips in another dirty kiss. He bullies Logan into lying down, and Wade slides down to finally face Logan’s cock, kissing the tip and licking at the precum that dribbles out. He grasps the base of Logan’s cock with one hand, taking Logan deep enough for his lips to meet his fist. He plants his other hand firmly on Logan’s hip.

Logan makes an unhappy sound. “What? I can’t fuck your mouth?”

Wade shrugs one shoulder, humming on the downstroke, and smiling (as much as he can with Logan’s dick in his mouth, at least) when Logan drops his head back with a drawn out groan, hands coming to rest on Wade’s shoulders. He doesn’t really pay attention to his technique, too excited to have The Wolverine’s dick in his mouth to think about pace and finesse, but Logan doesn’t seem to mind at all with the way his hips keep twitching up. There’s a reason why Wade has a hand pushing at the flat of Logan’s pelvis.

He gradually manages to open his throat, pushing himself further and further down Logan’s cock, satisfied once his nose begins brushing wiry curls. He may or may not start humming the closer he gets to the base just to hear the noises escaping Logan every time he does.

Pulling off with a filthy slurping sound, a thick line of spit and precum connecting his lips to the tip of Logan’s cock. Wade licks his lips hungrily, keeping one hand pumping Logan while the other moves down to grip his own aching dick. He sighs in relief once he starts stroking himself.

“Fuck my face now,” is all he says before swallowing Logan back down to the root.

“Shit.”

For as violent as he was not five minutes ago during their fight, Logan is surprisingly gentle thrusting into Wade’s mouth now that he has permission. It’d be sweet if Wade isn’t in the middle of chasing his own pleasure right this moment, and he needs to feel Logan hitting the back of his throat for tonsil target practice before he loses his mind.

He pulls off with a whine, frowning up Logan.

“What happened to ‘none of that half-ass shit’?”

Logan glares down at him, a low rumble coming from his chest.

“You fuckin’ asked for it, asshole,” he sneers, and before Wade can complain again, Logan grips the back of his head and shoves him back down to the base of his cock.

He begins to fuck Wade’s face in earnest, delicious noises spilling from his lips that Wade can’t help but return with his own whimpers. He moves the hand that was stroking Logan’s dick to fondle the man’s balls instead, his other hand still furiously jacking his own cock. His jaw aches in the best way as Logan relentlessly guns for his orgasm.

“M’close, bub,” Logan pants heavily. “Pull off, wanna come on your face.”

Wade whines in the negative—he wants everything pouring down his throat.

“I said fuckin’ pull off!”

He stubbornly refuses, too fucking close to coming to care about what Logan wants at the moment.

Several things happen in slow motion from there.

(Take a moment to imagine a record scratch followed by the opening plucks of the violin from Enya’s Only Time à la the second movie, dear reader.)

Wade comes while his mouth is still on Logan, his eyes clamping shut from how hard it hits him. He might also accidentally bite down a little, tiny bit because of his orgasm. (Don’t blame him for getting bitey when he comes—it’s not like he can help it!)

At the same time, Logan grabs the back collar of Wade’s suit while his other hand pushes Wade’s forehead, forcefully pulling Wade off his dick. Wade vaguely registers Logan yelping in pain, likely because he is in pain now that Wade is maybe, slightly using his teeth. Wade—rightfully upset, in his opinion—makes a pathetic, displeased noise when Logan’s cock slips out of his mouth.

For some fucked up reason that Wade would love to investigate one day, this is when Logan orgasms.

Fun fact: when Wolverine blows his load, his claws come out. Another fun fact: he can shoot far enough to reach his chin, and maybe even a little further than that.

Things rev up to regular speed from there, chaos dialling right back up to 11.

Logan had spent the day cleaning the apartment, tossing away old garbage bags and tidying the random piles of stuff littered everywhere. Wade avoided him—as he usually did on bad days—leaving a room once Logan entered so neither of them would bother the other. Logan didn’t think twice about stripping off his shirt once he finished mopping the living room, already sweaty from half a day’s work. 

Of course, that’s when Wade decides to pop out of Al’s bedroom where he and Mary were hiding, immediately faceplanting into Logan’s chest as Logan’s dragging out the vacuum.

“Mmmno,” Wade hums, the sounds turning into one word. “Gotta recharge my battery. Your lovely mountains help with that.”

Logan growls, unsheathing his claws on his right hand. “Wade, I’m fucking serious.”

“Peanut, I’m fucking serious,” the moron parrots back, but there’s an edge to his voice that Logan recognizes is Wade being serious for once. Wade snuggles further into his chest, hands now kneading the flesh there, calloused fingertips occasionally brushing Logan’s nipples. “Just let me have this,” Wade sighs.

(Logan pointedly ignores the urge to preen at Wade’s easy affection and praise.)

He closes his eyes, slowly breathes through his nose, and counts to ten to stop himself from stabbing Wade through the temple.

Just because he can stab the dipshit doesn’t mean he should, he reasons. He just finished cleaning the floors and Althea would appreciate less blood stains on them, he reminds himself.

He rolls his eyes when Wade hums into his skin, mumbling nonsense that Logan doesn’t bother trying to parse out. Though he’s annoyed (very annoyed), Logan’s surprised that he doesn’t mind the contact as much as he thought he would. God knows when was the last time he had this kind of skinship with someone, how long it’s been since someone touched him without wanting to pick a fight.

Fuck. Logan must be getting soft from living here.

With a final hum and deep breath, Wade lifts his face from Logan’s chest to meet Logan’s eyes, chin now digging into Logan’s sternum. Despite the mask, Logan can tell that he’s smiling beneath the fabric.

“Thanks for the assist, honey badger!” Wade chirps. “I feel much better now.”

He grunts, rolling his eyes again. “Whatever. Now get the fuck off me.”

Wade pouts but relents, pulling away from Logan without a word.

Shit, Logan already misses his touch, what the fuck.

He doesn’t let it show on his face, jerking his head in a direction that’s vaguely out of the way of the vacuum’s direct path.

“Can I get back to vacuuming now, princess?” he taunts, but even he can hear that he doesn’t mean the insult.

“Excuse you!” Wade gasps dramatically, a hand lifting to clutch his chest. “The only princess here is my little Princess Puppins!”

At the sound of her name, the dog dutifully comes skittering into the living room with a bark. Logan sighs at the hair she’s already leaving everywhere.

(For a dog with almost no fur left, the little she does have scatters around the apartment, unending and always in places Logan thought he already cleaned.)

Wade picks up Mary and partially lifts his mask to immediately cover her face in kisses, cooing nonsense and praise. With the bottom half of his face exposed, she licks into his mouth (fuckin’ gross, but whatever), and Wade looks visibly more at ease than he did not even ten minutes ago.

Logan tugs the cable of the vacuum to move it out of the way, only turning it on once Wade and Mary are back inside the bedroom.

And if he turns his back to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

The mission went sideways faster than Wade could make an innuendo about it. There were casualties that didn’t need to happen, body parts Deadpool didn’t need to lose, places where Wolverine’s claws didn’t need to go. The official X-men (that is, the losers that lived at the X-Mansion) handled the PR shitstorm headed their direction while Wade whisked Logan and himself away from the pesky news cameras already on their heels.

The two of them came home to an empty apartment, and once Wade was dumped into the pull-out couch he and Logan shared, Logan took off. Wade probably shouldn’t have let him leave—knew all too well the kind of spiral one could fall into after a shitty mission like that—but he also knew better than to push Logan before the man was ready.

Besides, he had six fingers, half a leg, and a nose he needed to grow back.

Logan, the asshole, only shucked off his own uniform once they arrived home and didn’t help Wade change before he left, so Wade hobbles around like a ballerina unwilling to dance on two legs as he strips his suit. He manages to finally get an old shirt and a pair of black short-shorts on before he falls over, ass hitting the floor with a fuck! Blind Al arrives home when he does, Mary Puppins in tow after finishing her nighttime potty. Al’s only acknowledgement of Wade is her cursing out him and Logan for leaving her to tend to the damn dog she didn’t even ask for, but the lack of heat in her words tells Wade the truth.

“Love you too, Al!” he calls out.

“Go fuck yourself, you uncircumcised dickhead!” she barks back as she shuffles towards her room. “And don’t forget to have someone look after the dog next time!” She slams the door behind her.

Wade manages to get up and grab a spare mask that doesn’t have a hole around the nose, slipping it on as he tumbles back onto the pull-out. Even though Blind Al is blind and can’t bask in the glory that is a nose-less Wade Wilson, he still doesn’t want to see his own ugly mug in random reflections around the apartment. Mary tucks into her doggy bed at the corner of the room and falls asleep while Wade lies on his stomach and spends time on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through different apps as his body regenerates.

The fact that glueing himself to his phone means he can pick up the second Logan calls him is just a bonus.

But he doesn’t even have to worry about that because Wade’s only grown back four of his fingers and part of his shin when Logan surprisingly returns home. He is also surprisingly not as shitfaced as Wade thought he’d be. He’s still definitely drunk if the way he’s grumbling to himself and shuffling around is anything to go by, but he doesn’t smell like he went through an entire bar’s supply of liquor, and he doesn’t look near as bad as when Wade first brought him to the TVA.

“Welcome back, peanut!” he greets, and Logan only grunts in response. As Logan begins to change into his clothes for bed, he says, “I gotta say, I’m impre—”

But before Wade can finish his sentence, a now t-shirt and boxers-clad Logan faceplants into his ass.

Twisting to watch with wide, bewildered eyes, Wade goes still as stone as Logan’s hands cup his ass cheeks. He’s pretty sure Logan doesn’t need his heightened senses to hear Wade’s heart with the way it’s trying to beat out of his chest.

He’s drunk he’s drunk he’s drunk and his face is in my ass, what the flying fucking fuck is happening?! is all Wade can think.

Before he gets the chance to say anything, Logan grumbles, “Can ya fuckin’ relax, bub?” His words slur together like he can barely make his tongue move. “Yer fuckin’ stiff as a board ‘ere and I’m tryna use ya as a pillow right now.”

Wade forces himself to calm down—drunk or not, he doesn’t want to be known as a horrible pillow.

“Peanut,” he says carefully, “as ecstatic as I am that our relationship has suddenly escalated to rimming, why is your face buried in my ass while I have clothes on?”

It takes a moment for Logan to answer, but eventually he murmurs, “M’rechargin’ my fuckin’ battery, bub.”

Oh, fuck him, Wade thinks, his traitor of a heart fluttering at this hot mess of a man. How dare he throw Wade’s own words back at him like this? That is ridiculously unfair.

Wade’s still stewing when Logan lifts his head to glare at him. “Ya got a problem?” he asks with a frown, the clearest he’s sounded since coming home.

Wade immediately shakes his head. He may be ticked that karma’s working herself beautifully right now, but he’s not about to waste the opportunity of having The Wolverine using his ass like a pillow.

“Absolutely not!” he reassures Logan with a grin, desperately hoping he doesn’t sound like he’s about to flip his shit. “But I was hoping we’d be naked when we finally hit third base.”

He has to joke about it, he has to. Or else his own stupid feelings will choke him to a death that would be more merciful than whatever the hell this is.

“Nah,” Logans says around a yawn, head falling back down to Wade’s ass. “Just want’cha like this.” Wade tries and fails to steady his rapidly beating heart when Logan moves to wrap his arms around his waist.

At the silence that follows, he thinks Logan passes out on him, but just as he turns around to focus on his phone again, Wade hears him.

“Just...” Logan whispers, voice unguarded and overwhelmingly soft, “just wanna hold ya fer'once...”

Wade swallows the lump in his throat. He doesn’t have the freaky super-hearing Logan possesses but he’s pretty sure he hears that.

He’s drunk, he’s drunk, he’s drunk, he reminds himself, it doesn’t mean anything.

He pulled the covers back over his head.

“Oh no you don’t.” Said Wade, pulling at the blanket.

Logan pulled back. Wade yanked harder. When he heard the telltale sign of threads ripping, Logan let go, which sent Wade flying into the drywall.

“You two morons are fixing that!!” Al screamed from another room.

With a groan, Logan pushed himself up into a sitting position. His hair was pressed flat on the side he had slept on.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

Wade pulled himself out of the Deadpool-shaped hole in the wall and brushed the dust off his arms.

“Uh, only the best, most awesome month of the year?” He said as if the other man should have known instinctively. “October? Breathtaking foliage? Crisp Autumn air? Delicious apple cider?”

Logan gave him a blank look, until Wade added “spiked cider, in your case?”

“Now that I can get behind.”

“Yeah, I wish you’d get behind,” Wade mumbled.

“What was that?” Logan said, as if he didn’t hear everything in a twelve mile radius.

“Nothing!” Wade ran over and threw open the closet. “Which sweater do you want to wear pookie? Let’s see theres this one that says ‘I never skip leg day’ with a picture of a turkey dinner on it… this one of George Costanza saying ‘I’m shifting into Soup Mode,’ haha, classic… oh this one that says ‘DILF: Damn I love Fall,’ and who could forget the one that says ‘It’s Autumn baby, let’s bone in the Waffle House bathroom!’”

“… you’re fucking with me you do not have that on a sweater.” Logan said, still sitting on the bed.

“Ok the last one I made up but the other ones are real,” Wade said with a grin.

“Can’t I just wear my flannel?” Logan was already resigned to whatever the hell Wade had planned.

“Well you do make a sexy Lumberjack, all the tumblr reblog girlies know,” he looked in a certain direction and winked.

Logan sighed.

———

As Logan, Wade and Mary Puppins walked through the North Woods of Central Park, Logan had to admit that Wade’s excitement may have been well placed.

The trees were mid transition from their brilliant greens into the deep shades of red and orange that Autumn always promised. The red maples and scarlet oaks looked old and wizened, despite the fact that they were probably younger than he was.

Logan had an inkling that he had been here at its creation but the gaps in his memories were too great to know for sure. The artificial woods almost reminded him of a time he lived with someone, an attempt at a normal life, the splitting of wood… he shook the thoughts from his head. It was no use dwelling on those foggy thoughts. They never stayed with him.

As Wade rambled on about some movie he saw recently about a clown or something, Logan found himself staring. He watched the movement of Wade’s lips as he spoke, the way his brow moved with emphasis, how the daylight shone through his eyelashes almost illuminating them. He suddenly felt like he never wanted to forget this moment, never wanted it taken from him like so many memories of the past.

He reached out and held Wade’s hand.