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When the chuck pads come in the mail, Logan hides them for a week. He doesn’t even want to look at them- they stay in their packaging, tucked into the back of the closet in Al’s room. He had asked to hide them there, and she didn’t ask what it was; he just told her it was something for Wade, a surprise. She scoffed, but she let him do it.
He had ordered them because he wanted them, but- well. Now that he had them, all of the embarrassment was really catching up. Ever since that night, Logan has been playing it all over again and again in his head- the way Wade was just so into it, the way it all made him feel. Because mixed into the embarrassment, the shame, even the arousal- there was the relief in the lack of control. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before, but that’s the part that keeps sticking in his brain. It’s not that he’s into being humiliated or anything; it’s the fact that he was allowed a release, but one he couldn’t control, and one that didn’t fucking hurt anybody. (Well, except the couch cushions. But according to Wade, they were a sacrifice that he was willing to make.)
Logan is not exactly in the business of fucking psycholanalyzing himself, and he doesn’t really wanna start now, so he tries his hardest not to think about the chuck pads, or how much he wanted them, or just how fucking good it felt to piss himself and get jerked off on about it.
The look on Wade’s face is burned into his brain, though. The dark, hungry look in his eyes, the way his face had been flushed, the perfect little o of his mouth as he’d made himself come in record time at the mere sight of Logan’s piss-soaked crotch. It’s the kind of encounter you don’t exactly forget, even if you try your best. Because for better or for worse, that kind of did something to Logan’s brain. The open, naked desire of the encounter has really stuck with him, and the way Wade not only rolled with the punches, but actively encouraged them. Not really surprising, given everything about him, but it still does something to Logan to think about it.
He starts doing research, after the chuck pads have been sitting in the closet for a week and a half. He’s starting to kind of get to the point where he’s not as embarrassed, and he already has them, so he might as well figure out how to utilize them. There has never been a point in Logan’s life where he ever thought he would be typing “piss kink” into a google search, but life has a way of really fucking surprising you. He never thought he would be yanked into another universe, either, so he guesses that’s the least weird thing that’s happened to him so far.
He ends up learning a lot. There’s way more to this than he ever realized, and it surprises him. There’s different ways to go about it, different ways to play with it. He just kind of takes it all in, and prays that no one ever catches what he’s looking at. He has a few close calls, because Wade is nosy as all fucking hell, but he makes it work. The trouble now is, that he has to talk about it, in order to execute it.
At least the first time they did this, they were drunk and it was spontaneous, fueled by alcohol and lust. This time, however, there needs to be a conversation, and there’s nothing Logan hates more than talking about anything that makes him expose his feelings, but it’s kind of essential to something like this. So, he doesn’t have much of a choice, really.
Wade comes in the door one afternoon after a grocery run, whistling as he hauls bags into the kitchen and sets them on the table. Mary Puppins trots excitedly over to him, panting happily at his feet, and he bends down to pet her little head. Logan makes his way over to the kitchen, and just kind of automatically starts putting things away. There’s not much, but he helps anyway.
“Hey, peanut,” Wade says brightly.
“Hey.”
They make very quick work of the few groceries, and when they’re finished, Logan leans against the kitchen counter. Wade is sat at the table, going over the ad from the store he went to, looking for new coupons to use next time he goes.
Now or never. Logan takes a deep breath, and looks over at Wade, arms crossed over his chest.
“Got somethin I wanna run by you,” he says.
Wade looks up. “What’s up, honey badger?” He furrows his brow. “You can’t propose to me, yet- I know you’re obsessed with me, and our fiery passion is very all-consuming, but that would be moving too fast, I gotta preserve some of my dignity.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “In your fucking dreams,” he says. He pauses for a second, and swallows, suddenly feeling nervous. That’s not a feeling he gets often.
Wade, the bastard, picks up on it. “Okay, see, you say you’re not going to propose to me, but I can practically feel your big, sexy hands sweating over there. Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”
He sighs. “I… remember that thing we did, the other week?” It’s way too vague, but he can’t quite bring himself to say the words. He’s so fucking grateful Al is out for the afternoon, he knows he would never live it down if she heard this fucking conversation.
“I adore you, Logan, but you’re gonna have to fucking elaborate for me, sugar,” Wade says.
He feels his face flush, and he hates that deeply. He pointedly avoids any eye contact with Wade. “The- the thing on the couch. When uh… you know.”
It’s like a switch has flipped as Wade gets what he’s alluding to. He lets out a gasp, entirely too excited. “Oh, you naughty boy! I knew you liked that shit! God, it was so fucking good though,” he says, sighing dreamily. “I wondered if you were ever gonna ask again. What changed your mind, peanut?”
He’s put the store ad aside, completely forgotten now. All of his focus is on Logan, which just makes his face hotter. He keeps looking at the floor as he talks, refusing to give Wade the satisfaction of eye contact, even now. He shrugs.
“I enjoyed myself,” he says simply.
Wade lets out a ridiculous little noise, and claps his hands. “Oooh, I knew it! Gosh, you’re so adorable when you’re embarrassed, kitten, this is doing so much for me as a whole.”
Logan snorts. “Don’t make a big fucking deal about it, okay? Do you wanna do it again or not?”
“Of course I wanna fucking do it again- you saw what that shit did to me, right?” Logan looks up to see Wade rolling his eyes, but he’s got a huge, stupid grin on his face. “Do I wanna do it again; I just won the fucking lottery, peanut.” He shakes his head, grinning.
Logan grimaces, shifting on his feet a little. He’s glad that Wade is so excited about it, even though he’s so fucking embarrassed he can’t look at him. His enthusiasm can make up for Logan’s embarrassment, he supposes. A balance.
“So, did you have something in mind?” Wade asks. “You have to, you wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t.”
He’s got his fuckin number, there. But he is determined to not show outwardly how embarrassed he is, so he steels his nerves as much as he can and keeps a straight face.
“I uh. I bought some of those pads you were talkin’ about before. The other week. Figured we might use em.”
Wade’s eyes go huge. “Oh, Logan, you sly dog! How long have you been holding onto those?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says gruffly. He will absolutely not be admitting that he’s had them as long as he has, and just been too chicken shit to bring it up. “Point is, I got em. And you seemed uh, interested enough, so.” He shrugs.
Wade looks like it’s fucking Christmas morning. “And they say romance is dead,” he says with a sigh.
Logan rolls his eyes. “Don’t get fuckin carried away, bub.”
He knows it’s far too late for that, but he says so anyway. Wade leans forward at the table, eyes still wide, and Logan can feel his excited energy.
“So honey badger, how are we doing this? Rinse and repeat? Or do you have some ideas floating around in that pretty head of yours? I can help you brainstorm if you want, I’ve already thought about this probably way more times than you have.”
Of fucking course Wade already has ideas up his sleeve- leave it to him to concoct multiple plans for torturing Logan with this. He’s already spent enough time around Wade that he’s completely unsurprised. It doesn’t make him any less embarrassed, though. He blows out a harsh breath, and pointedly continues to avoid eye contact. He also does feel a small surge of relief at Wade’s words. The fact that he had also been thinking about it makes Logan feel a little less weird and nervous about the whole thing. It's a relief he didn’t know he needed, but now that he has it, he does actually feel just a little bit better about this.
He heaves out a heavy sigh. “I have an idea,” he says, a little quiet.
“You’re acting so shy about this- it’s very cute, but deeply unnecessary. And I’m so proud of you- look at you, being honest about what you want! You’re such a big boy now, Logan!” Wade beams.
It’s kind of a miracle he hasn’t burst his own eyes from rolling them so hard at Wade. He scoffs, shooting the other man a deeply unimpressed look.
“I will spear you to this fucking table and leave,” he deadpans.
Wade is still grinning, looking way too triumphant for his own good. “No you won’t, baby.”
Logan rolls his eyes again. “Don’t- don’t make this fucking weird.” He sounds a little more defensive than he really means to, but his hackles are still a little raised, so to speak. “Just shut the fuck up and let me talk for a second. Don’t interrupt me.” He points a finger at him.
Wade holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender, still grinning. That’s good enough, he supposes.
And well, now that he does have a chance to say it, he can’t get the words out. This is fucking humiliating, on a level that he’s not quite sure he’s ever experienced before. Despite knowing that he has nothing to be afraid of, the nervousness still sweeps through him in broad strokes. But he keeps reminding himself that Wade also wants to do this, is encouraging it, and would even have some ideas if Logan didn’t. So he’s doing his best not to talk himself out of it now.
He takes a deep, haggard breath. “I.. want you to… fuck me. While- while my bladder is full.” His face is growing hot, and he looks resolutely at anywhere but Wade. “And I want you to- I want you to make me do it. While you’re fucking me.” He can’t bring himself to say the words “make me piss”, but he knows Wade knows exactly what he’s talking about.
Wade lets out an honest to god moan, and Logan isn’t sure if his face can get any hotter. He might be breaking records right now.
“Holy shit, baby girl- you sure know how to get a guy fucking going.”
“Don’t call me that,” Logan growls.
“Fuck.” Wade lets out a sort of laugh. “Holy shit. That’s really fucking good. Like, really really fucking good.”
“So you’re in?”
Wade scoffs. “I would have to be fucking stupid to say no. Peanut, this is a golden ticket.” he snickers. “Ha. Golden ticket.”
He finally looks up at Wade, and he’s grinning from ear to ear like the fucking maniac he is. He shifts uncomfortably, arms still crossed tightly over his chest, but some of the tension bleeds out of his body, just a little. He knew that Wade was going to give an enthusiastic yes, but hearing it still helps.
He claps his hands. “So! When are we doing this whole she-bang? I’m game for whatever you are, gorgeous, but I am also extremely impartial to right the fuck now.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bub. We’re not doing it right this minute. But…” He swallows. “We can uh, do it tonight?”
“God, yes. Absolutely. Holy shit we can do it tonight.”
“Then it’s settled. We wait til Al goes to bed.”
Wade pouts a little, but he nods. “Yeah, don’t want her to be around for this one, sugar tits. This one is just for you and me.”
He gives Logan a little smile, then- something that’s not his usual leer after he makes a stupid joke or a come-on. It’s private, even a little sweet. It makes Logan’s stomach squirm.
They’re not- they’re not dating. They’re not a thing. Whatever their relationship is, it’s not of the romantic variety. They have been fucking pretty steadily, but Logan has been desperately trying to keep it to just that. They have a good thing going, and he’ll do anything before he lets that crumble. It’s simpler, this way. Wade makes his jokes and his comments, but this thing between them is easy and simple, and that’s good for Logan. He likes simple. He likes easy. Every now and then, though, Wade says or does something that startles him deeply. And he’s not stupid- he’s dense as all hell, most of the time, but he wasn’t fucking born yesterday, and he’s been alive long enough to know when someone is into him. He just doesn’t know what to do with it.
But that’s not the focus right now. The focus right now is mentally preparing himself for what he just agreed to. And he knows he can back out at any time, because Wade is a gentleman about these sorta things, and he won’t even throw a fit if he says no. But he does want to do this, even though it makes every cell in his body fill with embarrassment. Because he can admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that it felt fucking good. The release, the lack of control, the way it drove Wade fucking crazy- that really hit a few spots for him, and he wants to chase the high again.
They go about the rest of their day as they normally do. Al comes back from wherever the hell she was. They hang out, watch tv. Logan makes dinner, because it’s his turn to cook. He’s not a master chef or anything, but he has decent enough skills, so he and Wade rotate cooking when they’re not ordering takeout.
As the evening goes on, and it gets later and closer to the time Al usually excuses herself to bed, Logan keeps drinking water. Not anything extreme, but he’s making sure he’s maintaining a solid amount. Every time he refills his glass, his stomach flutters in anticipation. Earlier in the day, before Al got home, he took the packages of pads out of her closet and stashed them in the living room behind the couch. Their presence burns a hole in his brain, as the time crawls by.
Finally, after finishing an episode of NCIS that Logan has even seen at least three times already, Al gets up.
“I’m going to bed,” she announces to the room. “Goodnight, fuckers.”
“Sweet dreams,” Wade calls as she makes her way to the bedroom.
As soon as the bedroom door closes, the atmosphere in the room changes. Wade turns to Logan from his spot on the couch. Logan is seated in the armchair. He looks back at him, and they make eye contact. The tension is palpable.
“Come here, peanut,” Wade says softly.
To say that Logan scrambles over to the couch would be undignified and totally false. But he does make his way over to Wade in a way that can be described as “fast”. Wade’s eyes are dark as Logan straddles his lap.
They just start kissing. It’s hungry, seeking, tongues slipping behind teeth, panting into each others’ mouths. Wade’s hands are already groping Logan, gripping his hips, his thighs. He can feel his cock stirring already, heat building low and slow in his gut. There’s a desperation to it that he’ll never admit to, but he’s comforted by the fact that it’s thoroughly reciprocated by Wade. The anticipation is a molten heat in his body, warming him from the inside out.
Their hips brush, both of their now hard cocks touching, and Wade lets out a groan. He breaks apart from Logan, both of them breathless, his eyes dark and wide.
“You packing all that heat just for me, angel baby?” Wade asks, his voice low and husky with his arousal.
Logan rolls his eyes. But he rolls his hips against Wade’s again, in lieu of an actual answer. They both moan at the sensation. Wade’s eyes roll back a little, and he bites his lip.
“Fuck,” Wade curses softly. “Okay, peanut- I think we need to get the pull-out open. If we wanna do this, I wanna do it right. I hate fucking on the couch, there’s never enough room. And we’re gonna wanna have space for this.”
Logan is so fucking embarrased. He does, however, agree. He climbs off of Wade’s lap, and they make quick work of getting the pull-out bed set up. While Wade tosses their pillows onto it, Logan reaches behind the couch and grabs the pads. Wade’s eyes go wide when he sees them, a grin spreading across his face.
“Wow, look at you, fancy-pants, you got the nice washable cloth ones. Solid choice. They’ll hold up better than the paper stuff.”
Logan’s face is hot as he starts unpackaging one of them. Wade grabs the other, and gets to work opening that one.
“Made more sense to get these ones,” Logan says gruffly.
“You’ve like, really been thinking about this, huh?” Wade’s voice is a little awed, and that just makes Logan flush even more. “You’re adorable.”
“Don’t ruin this before we even start.” Logan shoots him a glare.
Wade just laughs. They set up the pads on the bed, spreading them over the mattress. The two of them together cover the whole center of the bed, lined up side by side. The sight makes Logan’s stomach flutter. The anticipation curls hot and wild in his gut.
“Alright sugarplum, strip,” Wade says, already pulling his shirt over his head. “We’re just gonna get that out of the way first.”
Logan bristles at the stupid nickname, but he won’t argue with efficiency, so he starts taking his clothes off. Despite the work of getting the bed and pads set up, and enduring Wade’s banter, his dick has only softened a little bit. He’s still not fully hard yet, but he hasn’t lost interest. When they finish stripping, Wade walks over to him and gently grabs him by the hips.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” he whispers.
Despite all of his better judgment, Logan is helpless to those words. He crowds into Wade’s space, and the annoyance he briefly felt at their banter flies out of his brain as they kiss again. It’s way more tender than it has any right to be, but he tries really hard not to think about that. He just focuses on sensation. Wade’s hands on his body, their tongues swiping across each others’ lips and into their mouths, warm breath on his skin. They move between kisses, backing up to the bed.
Logan breaks away to get settled, making sure he’s lying on the pads. Wade wastes no time in joining him, crawling overtop of him so they can kiss again. His hands go to Wade’s body, gripping his shoulders. They both shudder as Wade presses his hips down, the friction of their bare cocks sending sparks up Logan’s spine. They easily fall back into the rhythm of their kissing, hands wandering across each others’ bodies. The arousal starts building in Logan as his body relaxes.
“Let me open you up,” Wade whispers, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
Logan nods, a low groan escaping him. Wade is in motion again, then, and he grabs the bottle of lube they keep stashed in the end table. Logan watches him, body humming with anticipation. Before he moved in with Wade and subsequently started fucking him on the regular, it had been a very long time since he’d bottomed for anyone. Being vulnerable like that wasn’t exactly something he was open to doing, in recent years, back in his own universe. But Wade had turned that on its head, much like he had for just about everything else in Logan’s life. Wade loved fucking him- and he was damn good at it. For all the shit he talked, he was right in the fact that he knew what the hell he was doing, and he was very enthusiastic to boot. It had made it easier for Logan to allow it, to enjoy it.
So now, as Wade gets back into place on the mattress, Logan spreads his legs willingly. Wade licks his lips, eyes dark with arousal. The look on his face goes straight to Logan’s cock, making it twitch. Wade slicks up his fingers, and gets to work.
The first brush against his entrance has Logan groaning already. He lets his eyes drift closed, and Wade spends a moment teasing a little, just running his slick finger over the surface of his hole. Logan is about to yell at him to fucking do something, but he finally seems to decide to relent, and starts sinking his finger in. Logan groans, low in his throat. Wade grins, a wide, mischievous thing.
“There we go,” he says softly. “Nice and easy, honey badger.”
Wae gets a hand on his thigh, holding it up, spreading him a little better for him while his other hand gets to work. He goes slow, but not agonizingly so, getting his finger down to the base relatively quickly. The stretch feels good, and Logan lets out little breaths just on the edge of a moan as Wade works him. It’s easy to relax into it, and Wade works on building a steady rhythm, thrusting his finger with gentle determination. It doesn’t take long before he’s got three in, and Logan is panting, hand fisted in the sheets beneath him.
”M’ready,” he says a little breathlessly.
The water is finally catching up to him. He feels it, the press of his bladder, the slow build. Wade smiles at him, pulling his fingers out.
”How you want it, peanut?”
Logan shifts, rolling onto his belly, and gets on all fours. Wade lets out a low, appreciative whistle, and he flushes, grateful the other man can’t see his face. The cap of the lube pops again, and a flutter of anticipation rolls through Logan’s stomach as he hears the wet noise of Wade slicking his cock up. It’s incredibly erotic, and his cock twitches, as if in anticipation. Wade places a warm, soothing hand on his lower back, petting at him a little. Logan gasps as he feels Wade get into place, the wet tip of his cock brushing his ass.
“Coming in now, baby,” Wade whispers.
He pushes in, slow. It’s a tease, a purposeful thing, because as much as Wade likes going fast and hard and rough and reckless, he also has a particular fondness for playing with Logan. A groan slips out of his mouth as Wade slides in. The stretch makes his eyes flutter closed, and he grips the sheets.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” Wade’s voice is a little breathless. He bottoms out, finally, and Logan lets out a strangled noise. Wade moans, a high-pitched sort of thing, and he squeezes Logan’s hips. “Never gonna get tired of this baby girl, fucking shit.”
Logan allows Wade’s use of the awful pet name, only because he’s a little lost to the pleasure of being filled. He’ll never say it, but he’ll also never get tired of this, he thinks. His cock is leaking between his legs, and he savors the feel of the stretch, of Wade’s hips flush against his ass as he just sits there a moment, letting them both adjust.
And if anything, it makes the growing pressure in his bladder a little worse. He swallows hard, being brought back down to earth a little as he remembers why exactly they’re doing this. It isn’t just a simple fuck- Logan becomes aware of the feeling of the pads under his knees, and he flushes again. Something hot unfurls in his gut, anticipation or excitement or extra arousal, he doesn’t even know.
“You gonna sit there all night, bub?” His voice is so much more ragged than he wants it to be, but there’s not really anything to be done about it, now.
“So bossy,” Wade says, giving Logan’s hips another squeeze. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty- can’t help but spoil you, peanut.”
Logan rolls his eyes, but any sort of retort he could come up with dies on the vine as Wade does start moving, punching a moan out of him. He does away with his slow teasing, immediately setting out with a steady pace. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin fills the living room, and Logan is glad they left the tv droning in the background. Al sleeps like a fucking rock, but even so, he always gets nervous about waking her up.
He shakes the thoughts about their roommate from his mind, so he doesn’t chase himself out of his headspace. He puts himself back in his body, focuses on the way Wade’s cock feels inside of him, and his torso sinks into the mattress. He grabs at one of their pillows, pulls it under his chin. He lets his eyes close, and soft moans start to leak out of him as Wade fucks him, steady and sure.
The sharpness in his bladder is becoming more prominent by the second. Just as he predicted when he was thinking about this earlier, being fucked only makes it worse. It feels almost like Wade’s cock is hitting his bladder, every time he bottoms out, and it makes his head spin. It’s the knife-edge of pleasure-pain again, the same incredible feeling that had driven him fucking crazy just two weeks before.
“Fuck, listen to you, gorgeous,” Wade says, breathy. “Love the way you sound when I fuck you.”
Logan just groans, not trusting himself to speak. Wade likes to talk, even when he’s fucking, and Logan never quite knows what to do with it. Especially because he says shit like this- praising him, whispering dirty about how good he looks or feels. It makes heat pool low in his gut, and he clenches around him, cock leaking onto the pads beneath him.
The steady pace has been good, but Logan finds himself needing more. Wade’s words spur him on, and he growls a little, a low sound in his throat.
“Harder,” he says through his teeth. “That all you fucking got?”
He’s goading him on purpose, but they both know that. Wade takes the bait anyway, and lets out a breathless laugh as he grips Logan’s hips harder and suddenly thrusts harder, deeper, setting a much more punishing pace. Logan groans, low and throaty, and his hips sort of automatically thrust into Wade, meeting him and driving him deeper. The feeling in his gut gets sharper, more prominent, and he hisses through his teeth. It’s like Wade is punching his bladder.
“Fuck, that’s it.” It comes out as a growl.
“God, peanut, you take it so fucking good,” Wade says on the end of a high moan.
He grunts. Wade’s gripping his hips tight, and he wishes, not for the first time, that his body would hold onto a bruise. They’ll be long faded by the time this is done, but in the meantime, while Wade’s hands are there, they press into his skin with an intensity that shoots sparks up his spine.
Logan finds himself trapped comfortably between sensation again, his head spinning with it. The pleasure of Wade fucking into him, the bruises being held into his hips; the sharp, persistent ache of his bladder, the sharp pops of pleasure-pain on every thrust that shoots through his body like he’s touched a live wire. He’s letting out more noise now, as he gets lost to it, being brought to the edge.
He reaches for his cock, but Wade smacks his hand away, and grasps it himself. Logan’s back arches, a hiss escaping him as Wade grips him firmly, and starts stroking.
“This what you wanted, honey badger?” He purrs, triumphant. “What happens next, huh? You gonna come first, or piss?”
Logan lets out a strangled noise.
“Oh yeah, I’ve got your number,” he says, laughing a little. “I saw you drinking all that water earlier, I know you’re really feeling this right now. Aren’t you, baby?”
The noise he makes is not coherent, and he’s not even going to try. He doesn’t know what’s going to come first, and that kind of thrills him. Wade’s hand on his cock feels so fucking good, and he’s overwhelmed by sensation. He’s letting out a steady stream of noise now, a little muffled by the pillow against his cheek.
“Listen to you,” Wade pants. “Fuck, you’re so far gone. God, you’re so fucking hot like this, Jesus.”
He lets out a choked moan as he comes, his orgasm slamming into him fast and sudden. He clenches around Wade, tearing at the sheets beneath him. Wade gasps in delight, keeps his hand on his cock and strokes him through it, still fucking into him. He pants, eyes squeezing shut.
“Fuck,” he gasps, hips thrusting. “Fuck, Wade, fuck.”
”That’s it, peanut,” Wade sing-songs.
Logan weakly brushes at Wade’s hand, his cock oversensitive. Wade obliges, brings his hand back to his hip, and picks up the pace of his thrusting again, punching an undignified sound out of Logan. His body is screaming, between the pleasure of his orgasm still ripping through him, Wade still pounding steadily, and the hot, horrific pressure on his bladder.
It hurts. He claws at the sheets, cursing, and Wade, the fucking asshole, laughs behind him, giving his ass a playful smack.
“You son of a bitch-“ He grits out.
He doesn’t get a chance to even try to finish his sentence. He lets out a shout that he valiantly tries to muffle into the pillow as he starts pissing. He’s helpless, unable to even give a warning as it just happens. It gushes out of him, a steady stream, and he whimpers as the pressure releases. It makes him see stars, it feels so fucking good, still on the tail end of his orgasm. He moans, eyes screwing shut.
”Holy shit,” Wade gasps. He hasn’t slowed down, but Logan can feel his cock twitching inside of him, any sort of pattern he had starting to dissolve as his hips shudder. “Jesus baby, fuck. Let it out, big boy. God damn.”
It feels a little endless. He just keeps going, and he’s a little helpless to the way it makes him moan, the pleasure of it rippling through his body. It streams hot down his legs, soaking onto the pads underneath him. There’s nothing to do but ride it out, let it happen. He pants his way through it between drawn-out moans. And for a beautiful, blissful moment, his mind goes blank. He’s cut loose, just feeling, lost to the wave of pleasure, the complete and utter lack of control. He thinks he’s making noise, but it’s all background, inconsequential to the physical feelings. The pleasure, the relief, everything feels ripped out of him, and it’s fucking incredible. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the stream stops, and he drips onto the pad, feeling thoroughly wrung out.
Wade is quickly losing his composure behind him, his thrusts becoming jerky and erratic. He’s gasping, clinging to Logan’s hips.
”Jesus Christ, Logan.” He lets out a groan.
He lets out a choked out sound as he comes. Logan groans low and long into the pillow, feeling Wade fill him. He continues to thrust through his orgasm, whimpering and making breathy little noises. He lets out a little hiss, surely sensitive, and his hips finally come to a stop. He stays where he is, buried inside of Logan, breathless.
Logan goes a little limp. He slumps, wincing a little as he lands in his own wet spot. But he can’t care too much about it in the moment, feeling like a puppet whose strings have been cut. He groans.
Wade finally pulls out, letting out a breathy noise. He just slumps on top of Logan, lying across his back, catching his breath in his ear.
”Holy fucking shit.”
Logan grunts. He doesn’t have the energy to shove Wade off of him, so he just lets him lie on top of him like a fucked up weighted blanket. He’s warm, but also sweaty. He’ll have the energy to complain about this in a moment; for now, he’s just giving himself some breathing room. Wade seems to be in a similar boat, blissfully silent for once as he catches his breath and comes down off his own orgasm.
Finally, after a moment, he rolls off of Logan without being shoved, which is nice. He still doesn’t quite have the energy to do it himself. Logan lifts his head, turns to face him, and sees Wade a few inches away, a grin on his face. He rolls his eyes.
”Don’t speak, you’ll ruin it,” he says.
”Nuh-uh, you’re not getting out of this one,” Wade says, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “That was fucking incredible.” He lets out a dreamy sigh. “You sure know how to spoil a guy, peanut. Woof.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he huffs. His face is burning, and he hates it. He turns his head and buries his face in the pillow.
”There’s my bashful boy,” Wade coos.
He lazily extends an arm, claws sliding out. Wade laughs. It’s a warm, fond sound. If Logan blushes a little more, he pretends not to notice it. Better not to add blood to their mix of bodily fluids, anyway; they have enough cleanup to do as it is.
”Be real with me for a minute though, tiger- how was that? Is that what you wanted?” He still sounds utterly pleased, though his tone is soft.
He turns his head again, looking at Wade. His expression is open, soft. He’s so fucking considerate about these things, and it makes Logan’s skin itch. It brings up a lot of shit he doesn’t wanna think about right now.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice quiet but gruff. “It was good.”
He can’t lie about it; not that he even wants to, really. It was good. It was exactly what he wanted. It was better than he had anticipated, and that does something to him, twisting in his stomach. He doesn’t really remember a time where he felt so good, where he was allowed a release like that, so deeply satisfying, that didn’t end up with someone dying or getting hurt. A well of emotion rises in him, and he tries to tamp it down. He’s fucked out and exhausted, and does not want to get philosophical right now. This is decidedly a problem for tomorrow Logan. Right now, he just wants to enjoy this as it is.
His claws retract, and Wade scoots closer to him, having previously moved out of their reach. He’s just looking at Logan with that soft look on his face, making his heart feel like it’s in his throat and trying to crawl out.
”Thank you for letting me do this,” Wade whispers.
It’s way too fucking vulnerable. Logan swallows, breaks eye contact. He grunts.
”Yeah, sure.” He bites his lip, then looks back at Wade, brow furrowed. “Wait, why are you thanking me? Shouldn’t it be the other way ‘round, bub?”
Wade’s smile is entirely too sweet. “Maybe, but this is kind of a big deal, peanut. Takes a lot to let someone do something like that- and you’re not exactly Mr. Open Book, here. So thank you. For trusting me.”
He considers this. He knows Wade is right, but it brings all those feelings to the surface. He didn’t exactly expect to have a heart-to-heart after getting fucked in a puddle of his own piss, so he’s not really sure what to say here. And they don’t do this- they don’t talk about their feelings. They bicker, they fight, they fuck- simple, clean. Easy and digestible, uncomplicated.
But Wade is looking at him, with one of his rare expressions where he’s not putting on a mask, and it does something to him. He lets out a heavy sigh, and scoots closer. Wade’s eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn’t speak.
”Thank you,” Logan says softly. He brings a hand up, rests it on Wade’s hip. He smooths his thumb over the bone, back and forth. “For, uh. For doing this for me. For being so…”
”Enthusiastic?” Wade asks, a tiny smile on his face.
He scoffs softly. “Yeah. Sure.” He searches Wade’s face, marvels at the genuine sincerity. “Thanks for taking care of me, Wade.”
His eyes go wide. He looks genuinely shocked, and it makes Logan feel embarrassed. His face flushes, warm.
“Logan,” he says softly. He puts a gentle hand on his cheek. Logan lets him leave it there. “I-“
A sense of panic rises in him, and he scrambles mentally.
”If you try to tell me you’re in love with me while we’re lying in piss, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Wade barks out a laugh, startled. His eyes are bright, his cheeks pink. It takes him a moment to compose himself, wheezing out laughter. When he settles, he looks at Logan again, still smirking.
”Point taken. Wanna take a romantic shower with me?”
He rolls his eyes. “Nothing romantic about two grown ass men our size trying to use that small ass shower, bub.”
“It’s called using your imagination, peanut, you should try it sometime.”
Logan is already moving, rolling to get out of bed. He feels distinctly disgusting, now that everything is drying and the fog of getting fucked has worn off. He flips Wade the bird as he makes his way towards the bathroom. He chuckles under his breath as he hears Wade scramble to follow him.
They do shower together, and it’s not at all romantic. The bathroom is cramped, the shower absolutely not made for more than one person, and they spend the whole time bumping into each other and fighting over who gets to be under the water. They make quick work of getting themselves cleaned up, and when they finish, they tag team the living room. They’re both pleasantly surprised to see that the pads did their job, catching everything and leaving the mattress underneath dry. Wade puts them into a trash bag and promises they’ll be making a trip to the laundromat tomorrow.
When Logan finally crawls into bed, he groans, sinking into the shitty, thin mattress. Exhaustion pulls at his body, and he’s ready to sleep. Wade slides in next to him, and wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, tucking himself against him. For once, he doesn’t push him away or threaten dismemberment. Wade rests his head on Logan’s chest, and he gets a hand on his back, running it over his spine.
He’s nearly asleep already, drifting off, when he hears it.
”Love you, peanut,” Wade whispers.
He’ll remember to give him shit for this in the morning. For now, he drifts off to sleep, a smile tugging at his lips.