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You Know That I Could Use Somebody

Summary:

Logan and Wade used each other.

They never quite stopped using one another. But this particular story is centered around how they began to use each other more intimately and more brutally than even Wade could have imagined.

Notes:

I said the next Poolverine fic I wrote was going to be explicit and I stand by that. The question is how much I can draw out these two dumbasses refusing to be vulnerable with one another and allowing themselves to sufer through another miscommunication trope fic.

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I've been roamin' around, always lookin' down at all I see
Painted faces fill the places I can't reach
You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody
-Kings Of Leon

Logan and Wade used each other. 

It started, in a marvelously cinematic way, as Wade using Logan as an object to offer to Paradox. In return, Logan was more than happy to use Wade to save the family he lost. 

They used one another as punching bags. They used one another for desperate, bloody, earth-shattering hate sex inside a Honda Odyssey. They used one another as an outlet for their rage, their violence, and their desire to be hurt just as badly as they believe they deserve. 

And miraculously, they began to use one another as supports as they navigated their new normal (and Logan’s new reality.)

They never quite stopped using one another. But this particular story is centered around how they began to use each other more intimately and more brutally than even Wade could have imagined. 

An empty apartment was a surprising luxury these days. Al and Logan’s companionship was more important to Wade than even he could manage to describe, but an hour block of time alone was long overdue. With Al stepping out to meet with friends that Wade was fairly confident were mafia and Logan announcing that he needed fresh air and a drink - accompanied so warmly by Mary - Wade took advantage of the rare solitude in ways he would happily tag as explicit on AO3. 

Head thrown back against the couch and t-shirt hiked up his abdomen, Wade squeezed the base of his erection firmly, forcing himself to start slowly to truly savor the moment. Pumping his cock desperately in the heat of the shower was his newest routine, but he wanted to give himself more than just that now. His left hand splayed out over his chest, unsure if he wanted to scratch and twist at overly sensitive nipples or tease around his prostate. The rare virtue of his patience won out, ghosting scarred fingers across his pecs as his cock began to drool obscenely. 

The hard line of a callous dragged across his nipple, and without being given permission, Wade’s mind immediately imagined how Logan’s rough hands would feel against his skin. The cool blades of adamantium claws would feel electrifying, the threat of pain just as arousing as the touch itself. 

God, how Wade would beg for Logan’s touch, how desperately he would beg for the impalement of blades or of Logan’s monstrous cock. Memories of the Honda Odyssey flash through his mind, particularly the sight of Logan’s blood splattered face thrown back in a feral grin at each of Wade’s attacks. Or the sight of the growing bulge in his spandex. At first glance, he was ready to explain it away as an adrenaline boner - something well known to the possessors of penises amongst the superhero crowd. Wade’s mind was overwhelmed by anger towards Logan (towards himself more) and desperate fear that he really would lose his entire world. But his mind was soon plagued by the sheer idea that Logan found him just as desirable as he found Logan. 

Claws speared through the tender underside of Wade’s chin had forced his head back, hardly able to focus on anything besides Logan, Logan, Logan - on anything besides the hardness of Logan’s cock pressing into Wade’s thigh. 

The pain of hours of compounded injuries did nothing to lessen his pleasure. In reality, it only heightened it. The sex was artless - Wade forced onto his hands and knees against the back seat, pants pulled just low enough for Logan’s gloved fingers to turn Wade into a babbling, whimpering mess. Hell, his pants hadn’t even been pulled down low enough for Wade to work his cock while Logan worked his ass, splitting him open so violently and intensely and deliciously. Wade’s words were far from coherent, but Logan was too distracted by his own arousal to seem to mind Wade’s inability to shut up. Rough, sloppy, frantic thrusts from that rugged, tortured, animalistic man pushed Wade over the edge, his orgasm hitting him so intensely that he blacked out, waking up fully redressed and healed of all injuries. (And tied in a fucking cocoon of seatbelts that made him strongly reconsider his prior indifference to bondage in the bedroom. (Bedroom or backseat of a vehicle he can’t in good conscience bring himself to hate anymore.)

Driven crazy by the memories, Wade’s cock throbbed in his grip as he slowly eased his grip towards the head, dragging his thumb against the top side of it, pressing into the veins as his cock strained to rise towards his torso. He let go of his grip, watching as his cock almost violently bounced upwards, slapping against the raised edge of his t-shirt, staining the fabric with precome. He let out a groan, unable to stop himself from beginning the syllable of Logan’s name. 

“Lo-“ Wade gritted his teeth, cutting himself off as he returned his grip to his desperate cock. “Lo-“ He smeared the precome at the tip around the head of his cock, making the slide down so much easier. “-Gan.” He grunted, the sensations almost painful against sensitive skin, against frayed and fired nerves. 

His conscience would kick in later, he knew. Post nut clarity would drown him in guilt. He hadn’t breathed a word about what had taken place in that car. He hadn’t offered Logan another go around, hadn’t let himself even entertain the thought of another tryst. It didn't feel right to do so, and Wade had pushed down every wave of arousal that tried to wash over him from the very second he brought Logan into his apartment, into the rest of his life. Potentially permanently.

Minutes passed in a blur as Wade gave into the pleasure his body so desperately craved. No longer stimulated enough just by fingers dragging across his chest, his hand dipped down into the pajamas that still sat at mid-thigh. Right hand still occupied with his weeping cock, his left middle finger explored lower, sliding clumsily over his hole, his muscles clenching in response. Desperation overwhelmed him as he curled the tip of his finger inside himself, hooking the ring of muscle and pulling back. 

He struggled to curl forwards, shortening the distance until he was able to press his entire finger inside, searching immediately for the bundle of nerves that would turn him incoherent. 

“Oh, fuck -“ Wade cried out, voice almost giving out as the combination of stimuli shot through his body like lightning. He exhaled again, shaking, “Lo- Fuck, Lo-“ 

Too good, too much, too perfect. He imagined second and third and fourth rounds between them in that damned car. Logan over him, the heel of his palm pinning Wade’s shoulder to the unforgiving floor of the Odyssey, Wade’s knee hooked over his other arm as he was drilled into again and again until Wade was certain the cock inside of him was a missing piece he had always craved. As if he was finally complete. 

He was racing towards his completion, his body tensing like a coil. The movement of his fist around his cock was a blur, too hell-bent on his own release to show the poor organ mercy. Another exhale left him, the beginning of Logan’s name coming so effortlessly to his lips. 

Lo-“ 

The opening of a door occurred far past the point of no return, Wade’s eyes widening in surprise briefly before the force of his orgasm made him throw his head back, come shooting up to splatter across his t-shirt, reaching up to his neck and chin. 

When Wade finally opened his eyes, Logan was standing in the doorway. The man’s eyes were wide, and - as if without thinking - the man took several sniffs of the air. Wade keened embarrassingly, fist still curled around his cock and stroking up once to get lost in the overstimulation. 

Before Wade could even catch his breath, Logan finally spoke. 

“This is what happens when I leave you alone for five fucking minutes?” He said, exasperation not coming across as sincere when Wade zeroed in on the outline of Logan’s cock beginning to strain across the man’s borrowed sweats.

Wade opened his mouth to retort, ready to put faith in his brain’s lack of filter as he always did, but the only noise that left was another soft, nearly stifled moan. 

The noise seemed to make Logan pause, watching him carefully before finally kicking the door behind him shut, lock clicking softly into place. Mary took the opportunity to run off towards the comfortable nest of blankets in Al’s bed, leaving the men blessedly alone in the living room. 

“Jesus, can’t even take your hand off your cock long enough for a smart ass reply?” 

Wade’s arousal was still too overwhelming to manage a reply, his shoulder and spine beginning to ache with his finger still curled inside of him. Selfishly, Wade only stretched himself out more, his ring finger sliding home inside of himself, savoring the dry burn of it. Logan’s eyes flashed to Wade’s pajamas, the fabric unable to conceal the slow but steady return of his erection, but managing to hide at least his other hand from view. 

“Logan-“ Wade managed to say, though the effort was significant. The sound of his name seemed to spur the other man into action, the tent at the front of his pants now on display as the distance between them lessened to nearly nothing. 

“That all you can say?” 

“Please - Logan, I -“ 

Logan reached out, gripping Wade’s jaw, pressing into the bone with bruising force. Wade’s brain further short circuited, mouth falling open obediently, sparse eyelashes fluttering as he tried to keep his eyes open. 

“Please what?” Logan asked, the curiosity in the probing question convincing Wade of the man’s interest. There was no other explanation that made sense besides Logan wanting another round of the brutal hate sex that had blown Wade’s mind only a few, short weeks ago. 

“What’s the difference between jam and jelly?” Wade asked, voice rough, the grip on his jaw making speaking difficult (but certainly not impossible.)

A thumb dragged across Wade’s lower lip, putting crooked teeth on display. Wade swallowed the gathering saliva, clearing his throat. 

“I don’t want you to jelly your cock down my throat.”

Logan’s answering growl felt like it reverberated down Wade’s entire spine, fingers spasming where they still lay curled inside of him. The hand around his jaw tightened, thumb pressing painfully right at his jaw’s hinge until his mouth fell open. With the intense sight of Logan’s eyes locked on his face, Wade didn’t hesitate before presenting his tongue, spit sliding down and drooling onto his t-shirt. 

Logan didn’t seem to require any further encouragement before his unoccupied hand shoved his sweats down enough to reveal a painfully erect - and fucking beautiful - cock. 

Wade had felt every single millimeter of the damned thing a lifetime ago, but he had never gotten to fully appreciate it, never got to admire how gorgeous the sight was. No further encouragement from Logan was needed for Wade to dive in, worshipping the length in front of him with hot, open mouthed kisses. Every thought in Wade’s head save for thoughts of Logan were banished as he was allowed to explore Logan’s generous cock. 

Wade finally removed the fingers from inside of himself, his own pleasure falling to the wayside as he became desperate to reach out for Logan instead. One hand moved to Logan’s cock, wrapping a fist just under the head to make it easier for his mouth to explore the underside. Wade was unsure just how much time was spent on unintentially teasing, but Logan finally reached the end of his patience when Wade pulled back his foreskin to finally taste the pre-come steadily beading at the tip. The very second Wade’s tongue dipped into the slit, Logan’s hands gripped the sides of Wade’s head, forcing the first few inches into Wade’s more than willing mouth. 

The surprise of the action forced Wade to gag, eyes stinging with tears, though Wade eagerly leaned forward to follow Logan’s cock as the other man pulled his hips back. Logan hardly had the chance to apologize before Wade began to bob his head, steadily taking in a new inch each time. Wade’s hands moved to the backs of Logan’s thighs, fingertips pressing painfully into already tensed muscles, absently massaging as Logan’s cock finally breached the back of Wade’s throat. 

“Shit, should’a known there was one good use of that damned mouth of yours.” Logan breathed, still gripping the side of Wade’s head with one hand as the other cupped his cheek. He dragged his thumb across Wade’s lower lip once more, slick with spit and cherry red. “You look damn good with your mouth full.” 

Wade made the mistake of looking up, meeting Logan’s eyes. Wade’s heart pounded painfully inside of his chest, his face heating up - in shame? Embarrassment? Arousal? Guilt? Adoration? 

Fear was the most easily discernible feeling as Wade remembered with painful clarity that there was no mask to hide behind. No protective layer of spandex and leather hiding the boner-killer that was his face from view. How disturbing the sight must be for Logan, he realized with horror.

It was a mistake Wade remedied as quickly as he could, forcing himself forward until his nose pressed uncomfortably into Logan’s pelvis as he swallowed Logan whole. 

The action made Logan throw his head back in pleasure, grip tightening over Wade’s skull. If he could play his cards right, if he could do a good enough job, surely Logan wouldn’t bother to keep his eyes on the scars so grotesquely covering every inch of skin. Wade’s hands slid higher up Logan’s thighs, palming the globes of Logan’s ass so selfishly before moving even higher. Thumbs pressed painfully into iliac crests, his other fingers fanned out. He used his grip to his advantage, forcing Logan’s hips still as Wade began to bob his head in earnest, desperate to force Logan’s orgasm. He could feel just how painfully Logan was throbbing inside the warmth of his mouth, could hear Logan’s failure to quieten desperate and appreciative groans. Every one of Logan’s noises felt like a victory, gloriously and meticulously earned. 

Both of Logan’s hands gripped the back of Wade’s head now, assuming control of the rhythm with his strength, thrusting his hips forward into Wade’s waiting and eager mouth. Wade gave up control without hesitation, holding onto Logan’s hips now only to keep himself upright. Groans and growls and moans finally shifted into curses and muttered praises. 

“Should’a done this weeks ago. Should’a known how perfect that disgusting mouth of yours is.” Wade couldn’t help but agree, his mind so clouded with his own arousal that he couldn’t remember all of the reasons he kept himself from getting too close, kept himself from reaching out and begging Logan for something, anything, everything, please.

“Gonna come. You gonna swallow it? Every fucking drop. Every single fucking drop, Wade.” Wade only moaned in response, desperate to agree, desperate for anything Logan could give him. 

That noise was enough to finally push Logan over the edge, thrusting forward until Wade’s nose was smashed into his pelvis, throat constricting around every pulse of Logan’s cock. Only when Logan’s cock began to soften did they finally separate, Logan’s chest heaving as their eyes met once more. Without thinking, Wade opened his mouth, presenting his tongue and empty mouth obediently, showing rather than telling that he followed Logan’s directions, that he was good for Logan. 

The expression on Logan’s face was enough to make Wade’s heart skip (several) beats. 

Logan was looking down at him in amazement. His expression was so soft, so warm, so fond. Where Wade would expect to find lust, satisfaction, perhaps even disgust, Wade only found something so tender that he could hardly believe he caused. 

Logan’s hand found Wade’s cheek once more, thumb stroking across the roughness of his cheek, and the afterglow was abruptly destroyed by an all-too-familiar wave of panic. Wade broke the eye contact quickly, pushing Logan’s hips away until Wade was able to stand to begin his escape. 

Confusion clouded Logan’s features, replacing whatever Wade had seen that had so closely resembled love. Logan reached out, tugging at Wade’s shirt, moving down to offer Wade’s neglected cock attention. 

In the back of his mind, Wade realized he had reached his own orgasm, his second release of the night already cooling and drying against the fabric of his sleep pants. He tugged his pants back up, covering his cock - scarred, just like the rest of him - from view. Fight-or-flight took over as Wade stumbled his way towards the bathroom, escaping from Logan’s grasp.

“Wade, what -“ 

The door to the bathroom slammed close with more power than Wade had intended, the violent noise jarring in the stillness of the evening. Wade found himself leaning back against the door, one hand digging in to the skin of his pectoral as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. After a few, desperate gasps of air, he finally found himself calm enough to speak, to explain - not himself, but some bastardized excuse for running like a fucking coward after a good old friendly blow job. “Little boys room! Gotta wait until the fifth date at least before we can even think about bringing up piss kinks! Don’t worry, we’ll have time for the whole safe, sane, and consensual discussion later. Start thinking about your safe word, sweet cheeks!” 

Logan made no attempt to open the door, no attempt to pry past every shoddily built wall composed of humor, insecurity, and fear. 

Wade told himself that that only makes it easier. 

Easier to forget? Easier to regret? Easier to mourn the loss of something he hadn’t let himself - for even a fucking second - hope to find in Logan? 

Easier to sit on the floor of the shower, painfully hot water pelting down on him. Rinsing away the evidence of his arousal and the memory of Logan’s touch. Drowning any desire to curl up into Logan’s chest and fall asleep with the protection of Logan’s arms around him. 

By the time the water ran frigid cold, Wade had managed to shove the broken pieces of his head and heart back into place. By the time Wade finally felt whole enough to escape the sanctity of his shower, he was confident he could play it cool once again. By the time Wade had finally steeled himself to face Logan once more, the man was already asleep, curled up on their shared pull out couch, one arm outstretched as if waiting for Wade to climb into his arms.

Wade gingerly climbed onto the opposite side, his back to Logan, infinitely more terrified of what he might see when he looked at Logan’s face once more than anything Logan could ever do to his back.

Wade told himself it was for the best. All they did was use each other, after all.

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