I'm not real

Two. There’s a shiny, brand-new vibrator currently wedged in Logan’s perfect ass. Wade had unboxed it this morning, and convinced him half an hour before he left that it’d be so hot if Logan wore it to dinner. To get him nice and open for what was happening after. Logan hadn’t even protested that much, the little tart. He had blushed all over when Wade kissed him on the cheek and called him a good boy, though. 

Three. Bless his sweet, technologically challenged heart; he has no clue that Wade can set it off with an app on his phone. Or maybe Wade just left that part out. Hey, it was written on the box. Not Wade’s fault that Logan didn’t read it. Eager boy just opened it and lubed up, gasping a little as he slid it in, biting his lip and looking up at Wade, and –

“Wade.” 

Logan kicks him lightly under the table. “What’re you drinkin’?” 

Shit. A gently smiling waiter stands to the side of their table, pen and notepad ready. 

“Sorry,” Wade says quickly, and orders a white wine that doesn’t cost a billion dollars. “Thanks.” 

The waiter dissolves from his view, like cotton candy in water. Wade can only look at Logan, because god, he’s handsome. Yes, they went all out and got fancy for this. Logan didn’t even gripe about wearing a blazer and nice pants, and he looks amazing. He’s always hot – he could be wearing absolutely anything – but seeing him step up his game has Wade tongue-tied for once. 

Combine that with their little secret, and Wade’s having difficulty thinking of anything beyond what’s coming after dinner. 

“You look real pretty,” Wade blurts out. “God. Fuck. I can’t think.” 

That earns him a genuine smile, a bit of a blush at the choice of compliment. Logan’s hand lands on top of his on the table, squeezing.  

“You’re not so bad yourself, Red.” 

Under the table, Logan’s foot traces up and down Wade’s leg. 

Guess he’s not the only one. 

“How you feel, peanut?” Wade asks, taking only the briefest glance around to make sure no one overhears. He decides they’re fine – this is an isolated spot, and no one would really know what they’re talking about anyway. “Still doing okay?” 

Logan squirms in his chair a little, breaking eye contact. Getting all fucking cute and shy. “It’s – it’s fine, it’s good, yeah.” 

“Really though?” Wade wants to make sure. As hot as this is, he’d hate for Logan to get uncomfortable halfway through, and his anxiety is telling him to be extra safe about something that’s kind of sort of public. 

“Really really. Pinky promise.” 

Oh, he loves this man. 

The waiter pops back up from his vague plane of existence – aka whatever’s going on that’s not within a two feet radius of Logan – and gives them their wine. They thank the guy, tell him they need another minute to look at the menu. 

Wade takes a gulp of his immediately, looking less than smooth, but he doesn’t care. He’s rock hard in his dress pants and trying to remember how to breathe, let alone how to drink wine like a normal person. 

Smirking a little at him, Logan sips at his wine as well. Logan had actually taken time to consider the drinks, ordered some vintage that he’d recognized and liked. Remarkable composure for someone with a vibrator pressed up against their prostate right now. Wade’s been watching him like a fucking hawk, noting every little change in expression. Yeah, he feels it alright, but Wade doesn’t think anyone would notice if they didn’t know him very well. Or if they weren’t watching him like Wade is.  

The air’s so thick with sexual tension you could eat it. They don’t even attempt small talk for a while; just sip their wine and look at each other. Logan’s foot is still traveling up and down Wade’s leg, slow and sensual, his chin in his hand as he smiles softly at him. Fucking flirt. Tease. Uggggghhhhh. 

Wade tells him so. 

“What, you can’t take a little teasing, sweetheart?” Logan purrs, resting his foot on top of Wade’s knee. 

Wade opens the app on his phone all sneaky-like in his lap. His heart is pounding. “I’ll do you one better.” 

He presses level one. 

The effect is instantaneous. Logan jumps a little, wine sloshing and threatening to spill out of the glass in his hand. His taunting expression vanishes, replaced with surprise. Wade’s cock jerks in his boxers. 

“Fuck –” 

It’s quiet enough to not be heard over the music and background chatter, thank god. Their secret. 

Logan swallows hard and licks his lips, setting his glass on the table with a shaking hand. He can only stare at Wade. 

“Aww, you can’t take a little teasing, sweetheart?” Wade’s smile is angelic. 

“I didn’t –” Logan struggles to form a sentence. He’s breathing faster than before, eyes unfocused. “You didn’t say you could –” 

Wade sips from his glass, trying to act chill though he knows Logan can hear his pulse going crazy. 

“Maybe I forgot to mention,” he says casually. “You still okay? You want it off?” 

A pause. He looks around, making the same mental assessment of their environment that Wade had minutes before. Then Logan shakes his head. “It’s good, no one – no one’s noticed. It’s –” he lets out a trembling breath. “s’good, Wade.”

“I’m glad, baby.” Wade would do anything to knock over their fucking table and have Logan right here on the fancy floor. But he can guess how much Logan paid for this. “What’s your word, just in case?” 

“Marigold,” Logan says instantly. Eagerly. Like he’s trying to prove that this isn’t something that he wants taken away any time soon. Wade’s cock aches. 

“Good boy.” 

Logan closes his eyes, making the softest little sound of need. So soft that Wade almost can’t hear it. 

“What’s it feel like?” 

Wade’s genuinely curious. It’s been – shit, it’s been years since he’s had a vibrator in his ass. Since this is Logan’s first time (admitted bashfully only about an hour before as they’d gotten dressed), he’s sure it feels a little more intense. 

Still breathing hard, Logan squirms again in his seat. 

“It’s – well, like I said, it’s good,” he says with a nervous laugh. “I, um. It’s not quite enough to be, y’know. That good. But. Yeah.” 

So fucking cute. Wade needs to make Logan try to form sentences through sex more. 

“So it’s just like a tease right now?” Wade prompts. 

He nods, and goes to take another sip of his wine. The glass is empty. 

“Poor guy,” Wade simpers. “Let me help you.” 

Level two. 

Logan whines, lurching forward a little. He’s abandoned the wine glass now to grip the edge of the table, nails digging into the fancy tablecloth. Wade still can’t hear the vibrator, but later Logan tells him that this is when he can start to hear it. 

“Better?”  

Wade snakes a hand down to start rubbing subtly at his own crotch, desperate to get any sort of relief. In Logan’s words, it’s good but it’s not enough. He’s pretty sure people will notice if he tries to get the kind of friction he actually wants. Boo public decency. 

“Y-yeah,” Logan gasps out. The look on his face is everything. Eyebrows pinched together, mouth slightly open, hair ruffled from where he’s run his fingers through it, restless from sitting still. Eyes desperate. “Wade, I – I can’t – I need, I’m gonna –”

“Gonna what, angel?” 

Ohhh, this gorgeous, amazing man. Wade’s going to fuck him until neither of them can move. After. This. Dinner. 

Suddenly, Logan’s face freezes in complete horror. Blood running cold, Wade turns his head to see what changed the look on his face so rapidly, and his first guess was right – it’s the waiter. THE WAITER!! How dare the waiter come back to refill their wine and take their order?? In a restaurant where they’re trying to get off without being noticed? 

His mouth goes bone dry in panic. 

“Have you both decided?” their waiter says pleasantly. 

And poor guy, he’s just doing his job, but Wade’s hatching half a dozen schemes on how to chop him up and blend him into a protein shake. 

He and Logan exchange the quickest glance, and in that glance, Logan knows that Wade’s too spooked to say a goddamn word. Irony of all ironies. And because Logan really is a hero, he unfolds his menu with a hand that barely trembles and orders his food in the smoothest voice possible, looking up at the waiter with an expression that even borders on normal. 

“Oh my god what the hell was that!” Wade says loudly, half-jumping out of his seat and pointing over the waiter’s shoulder. 

Maybe there’s something wrong with Wade. Growing up, he was the kind of kid who incited chaos just because he wanted to see what would happen. His undiagnosed ADHD and bottomless curiosity got him into so much trouble, but it never really went away, despite the dozens of times he was yelled at and scolded and called useless. He’s the last person you want to leave around a big red button that reads “do not touch”.

So what does he do, with the vibrator app still open on his knee? He presses level three.  

“What –?” The waiter takes a few strides away, oxfords clicking. 

The shitty distraction gives Logan just enough time. He slaps a hand over his mouth and goes tense all over, eyes rolling back as he comes hard in his nice anniversary date pants. Wade watches him, drinks in every fucking second, and feels like he’s close to following behind just from seeing the look on his face. 

If they were alone, Logan would be a wreck. Logan is not quiet during sex, he’s not subtle. Wade can only imagine him panting in Wade’s ear, fast little huffs as he tells him he’s coming, the two of them stuck together with sweat. Wade – oh jesus christ Wade I’m coming, fuck!

They’re going to the bathroom as soon as this waiter walks away. And they’re not coming out for a long time. 

Wade turns the vibrator off. Logan looks like he just ran a marathon. 

“Sorry, shit I’m so sorry,” Wade says to the waiter as he comes back with a frown on his face. “I thought for sure I saw something suspicious and important.” 

The waiter looks less pleasant now. 

“Right,” he replies, clipped. “And for you, sir?” 

He glances at Logan. “I’ll have what he’s having.” 

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