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The moment Wade opens his eyes, he knows he’s going to be in for a rough day. It always starts instantaneously; the itch in his skin, the aching that reaches into the marrow of his bones, the tightness all over his body. He shifts as he wakes up, a groan slipping out of him as the movement just aches . He grits his teeth.
This isn’t a new thing; ever since he came down with el cancer , his body has been a bastion of pain and discomfort. Factor in months of increasingly painful torture, and then a mutation that forced him into having super el cancer , and, well, you’ve got a recipe for a walking, talking poster for chronic pain. This just kind of happens. Pain has long been a constant in his life at this point, and usually he’s good at getting by- but every now and then, he just has a bad fucking day. His body forcibly reminds him of who he is, what he is, what he’s been through, and he gets to spend an undetermined amount of time dealing with an extra scoop of suffering, overtop the usual. The seconds he’s never asked for, but get piled onto his plate anyway, like his body is some fucked up evil version of the grandma who won’t stop feeding you even after you insist you’re full. Not that he ever had one of those; but he’s heard enough about them to know.
This is clearly one of those days. He stares at the ugly popcorn ceiling of the living room, heaving out a heavy sigh. The pullout bed next to him is empty, and he can hear the sounds of Logan and Al talking in the kitchen. A whiff of coffee carries through the air. He blindly pats around the end table for his phone, eventually managing to find it, and holds it up to his face to see that it’s just after 9 am. He normally sleeps in later than this, but pain tends to keep him up.
Wade runs a hand over his face and sighs. It’s a ragged, irritated sound. His whole body feels like a giant bruise. He doesn’t wanna move, but he has to piss, and he’s hungry. Having a physical form is a fucking scam.
It takes effort, but he sits up. He gives himself a mental pep talk, and with a whispered “Maximum effort!”, he manages to stand and hobble his way into the bathroom. The floor is cold on his feet, the toilet is cold on his ass, and it all makes him wince and cringe and curl in tight on himself. He desperately looks at the tub, and wants to turn on the shower and sit under the spray, but his stomach reminds him that it’s empty, and he scowls as he finishes in the bathroom and slowly makes his way to the kitchen. Logan and Al are sitting at the table, and when Mary Puppins sees him come into the room, she perks up and toddles over to him with her usual excited panting and drooling. He gives her a wan smile, and normally he would bend down to scoop her up and let her assault his face with her tongue, but he knows it would hurt too much.
It’s a bit of an effort to go through the motions of getting himself a cup of coffee, after he sees the pot is still on, and when he finishes, he sits heavily at the table. Logan is reading the paper, and he looks up at him over it, an eyebrow raised.
“You’re up earlier than usual.”
Wade makes a face as he sips his coffee. “Yeah, one of those days. Body woke me up.”
“Go piss now- fucker’s gonna be holed up in the bathroom in the goddamn tub all day,” Al says from the end of the table. It’s got no heat in it, though.
“What?” Logan asks. He looks between the two of them, his face adorably scrunched in his confusion.
“You haven’t been privy to it yet, peanut, but my body is kind of a shitshow,” Wade says casually. Mary gets her paws up on his leg, stretching up, and he pets her head while he talks. “Got a lotta pain. Sometimes, it’s worse. Today is a ‘worse’ kinda day.” He shrugs, takes another sip of his coffee.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean- my body is filled with super cancer, and therefore, I’m in pain. A lot. Most of the time, it’s manageable, but on special days, it’s not. Just not feeling good today honey badger, it’ll pass. Nothing an overly hot, overly long bath won’t attempt to fix.”
Logan’s brow furrows. Not an unusual expression for him in the slightest- but he’s got that softness on his face that he’s developed since he started living here, the one that makes Wade’s stomach twist and flip like a kindergartener on coke.
Logan knows about Wade’s bodily situation. There had been an uncomfortably vulnerable conversation about a week after he moved in, when they were both drunk and decided to just open up to each other, and Logan had finally asked what happened to him. Wade had given him the whole sob story, regaling his battle with cancer, and his memorable time with Francis after he started losing the fight. It had been a rough night. Logan had been way more upset about it than Wade had thought he was going to be, and that had led to more vulnerability, which had finally resulted in the two of them drunkenly clinging to each other and panting into each others’ mouths that they fucking loved each other, after only knowing each other for about two weeks like the complete fools they are.
Wade hasn’t mentioned the pain because… well, he doesn’t really like talking about it. And it doesn’t happen frequently enough that he thought he would have more time before a day like this and be forced to explain himself. He’s mentioned it sort of in passing. When he initially had that conversation with Logan about his tragic backstory, Logan had asked him if it hurt, and he had simply looked him in the eye with a tired little smile and replied, “All the time, sweetness.” But he never mentioned the flare-ups. Mostly, because he’s got a whole complex about elaborating on his pain to other people. Kind of kills his whole shtick as the care-free wisecracker and dampens the mood.
But Logan’s got that damn soft look on his face, the one he seems to reserve for Wade these days, and his stomach clenches in a way that has nothing to do with the pain wracking his body. He looks a little sheepishly at Mary and not at Logan.
“Why didn’t you say anything, bub?” He asks, and his voice is soft.
He shrugs, and before he can come up with a reply, Al chimes in.
“It’s the one thing this whiny motherfucker don’t complain about,” she says with a scoff.
“Thank you, Al,” Wade says, and gives Logan a look like can you believe this lady ?
Logan, however, remains unimpressed. He stands from his chair, and he walks over to Wade. He gently puts a hand on his shoulder, and looks at him. Wade swallows.
“What do you need?” He asks.
And this is the thing he gets hung up about. His shoulders go up in a sort of shrug and stay there, like he can shield himself with them, and even though keeping them up like that hurts. The chair is uncomfortable. The floor under his feet is too cold and uncomfortable. He wants to crawl back into bed, or a bath, smoke a fat blunt, and do his best to keep from moving and agitating everything further. He’s made even more uncomfortable by the way Logan is looking at him, all tender and worried. It makes something in him itch.
“I don’t need to be babied, I’m not a delicate flower.” He scowls a little as he speaks.
Logan is deeply unfazed, much to his chagrin. He levels an unimpressed look at him. “And if that ain’t the biggest lie you ever told,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m serious, bub, what do you need? How bad is it?”
Wade stands up, the chair scraping unpleasantly against the floor. He throws a glare at Logan, and it’s mean- he’s being kind of a huge bitch right now, but everything hurts and he feels weird and uncomfortable with the prospect of being taken care of, even by the man he loves, because Wade Wilson is nothing if not a stubborn bastard who is determined to be able to take care of himself, goddammit.
“Drop it, peanut,” he says flatly. “I’m gonna go take a bath.”
Silence follows in his wake as he grabs his things and stomps into the bathroom. Once he closes the door behind him, he slumps a little, letting out a sigh.
He’s such a bastard. Pain makes it a little worse, sometimes, makes his fuse short. He knows that Logan is just trying to help, because he loves him, and he’s a good fucking guy like that, no matter how much he pretends and says he isn’t, but Wade can’t stand it, in spite of himself. And Logan shouldn’t take it personally- he never let Vanessa help him, either. When he got sick and his whole life went to hell, he did everything in his power to keep her from doing anything close to doting on him. It makes his skin crawl, makes him feel small and vulnerable in a way that he does not like, and he avoids it like the fucking plague.
He starts running a bath, and strips out of his clothes. He makes the water boiling hot, and grabs his package of lavender scented epsom salts out of the cupboard under the sink, pouring a generous amount into the water. The smell quickly fills the room, and he breathes it in, along with the steam starting to cloud the small bathroom. He doesn’t wait for the tub to finish filling as he gets in, hissing as the boiling hot water hits his skin. It’ll suck for the first few moments, but he knows that intense heat is going to help melt him down, shortly.
While the tub continues filling, he reaches over the side of it and into his little basket of “Bad Time Goodies”- it’s got a few things he keeps on hand for days like this. There’s a vanilla lavender candle, one of those big ass ones from Bath and Body Works that costs like thirty-five damn dollars, a jar of pre-rolls, a couple of lighters for the candle and the joints, a sleep mask that says “Princess” across the front, and a few other odds and ends. He grabs the candle, sets it on the far corner of the tub, and lights it. He takes a pre-roll out of the little jar, and lights that. The first inhale is always rough, and his body screams a little as he coughs, but it’ll be worth it when it kicks in. This is the potent, medical-grade stuff that knocks you on your ass, and he saves it for special occasions such as this.
The scent of weed and lavender mixing is a weird balm on his senses. It’s familiar, and that’s comforting. He turns off the faucet and sinks into the water, letting the heat of it envelop him. Slowly, his body relaxes a little, the tension in his muscles softening bit by bit. After a few hits of his joint, that starts to kick in, too, and he relaxes further. The current of pain that’s been running through him like a live wire has calmed down to a more dull throb. Finally, he can breathe a little.
He sits in the water for a while- how long, he can’t really say. Between the relief of the hot water and how high he is, time is a bit of a blur. He feels a little like liquid, like he’s going to become part of the bath.
There’s a knock on the door. He swings his head lazily towards it, and grunts.
“Wade, it’s me,” Logan’s voice comes through. “Can I come in?”
He swallows. “Yeah,” he says, a little quiet.
Logan slips into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind him. He comes and sits on the toilet. He looks over at Wade, his brow furrowed, and it’s furrowed more in the way it is when he’s frustrated about something. Wade frowns at his expression.
“You’re mad at me.” His voice trembles without his consent, and he hates that he sounds a little pathetic.
Logan sighs, his shoulders drooping a little, and his expression softens. “No, honey, I’m not mad at you.”
Wade can’t stop the gasp that comes out of him. Logan isn’t exactly a pet names guy- that’s Wade’s thing. The closest he usually gets to a pet name is bub, and he calls literally everybody that. His heart does that terribly stupid swoopy thing it does when Logan does just about anything, clenching a little on the end.
“You’re hurting. And I shouldn’t push you. Figure there’s a reason you didn’t really say nothin’ about it before. But I wanna help.”
His shoulders slump. He’s still really high, and he’s vulnerable enough that he can actually have this conversation. He sighs a little, and looks up at Logan.
“It’s hard,” he says quietly, and his gaze moves away from Logan’s face, unable to make eye contact. “I don’t let people help me. And it’s not just you, either, before you get all sad puppy about it on me- I never let Vanessa help me, either.” He shrugs. “Doesn’t feel right.”
Logan lets out a groan. Wade looks back up at him, then, and he levels a soft, but tired look at him, shaking his head.
“What?”
“I think we fuckin deserve each other, bub,” Logan says. “We got the same damn problems.” He scoffs, and shakes his head again. “Two stubborn fuckin assholes, trying to help each other and never letting each other do it. Real fuckin pair we are.”
A laugh bubbles out of Wade. “Wow, babe, that’s shockingly honest of you.”
He waves a hand. “Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it.”
He giggles. And then he remembers how he walked out of the kitchen earlier, and a frown pulls at his mouth. “Hey, I’m uh- I was a bitch to you earlier. I’m sorry.”
Logan shrugs. “I’m a bitch to you all the time. S’only fair. And I know you didn’t mean it.” His gaze is soft.
Wade’s heart twists again. He buries his face in his hands. “You’re too much sometimes.” It comes out a little muffled against his palms, but he knows Logan hears him perfectly. “And I can only say this right now because I’m fucking fried, but you’re too perfect and I love you so much it makes me sick. Fuck you, peanut.”
Logan laughs, and it’s a warm, soft sound. “I love you too, dumbass. Do you need anything while you’re in here? Or are you wrapping up soon?”
He lowers his hands from his face, and sighs. “Should probably wrap it up. Al will give me hell if I stay in here too long.”
“Do you need any help, or need me to do anything for you?”
Wade pauses, thinks about it. He’s never had any sort of help for his little routine, but Logan looks so soft, and he’s being so sweet, and he’s kind of helpless to that, especially while he’s still so high.
“Can you get me a glass of water? For when I come out?” He asks, and his voice is quiet, soft.
“Of course. You got everything you need in here?”
He nods. “Got all my clothes and stuff, I just have cotton mouth like a motherfucker now.”
Logan chuckles, and makes his way to the door. “Okay, I’ll get your water.”
“Thank you baby,” Wade says with a small smile.
He goes through the motions of getting out of the tub. It’s a little easier to move right now, after soaking in the scalding water and smoking, and he takes advantage of his reprieve while he can. He dries off and pulls on the clothes he brought into the bathroom- his favorite Hello Kitty pajama pants, and one of Logan’s hoodies. It’s a little big on him; they’re the same height, but Logan is bulkier, and the way Wade swims a little in the garment is deeply comforting. And it smells like him, too. He puts the candle out, grabs his basket, and trudges back to the living room. The pullout is still set up, and he goes right for it, getting back under the blankets and settling in. Mary yips and toddles over, hopping onto the bed to curl up in his lap.
He scoops her up and gives her kisses, letting her lick all over his face, and Logan comes in with his glass of water, pulling his usual slightly disgusted face at their display. He’s grown fond of the dog, but he refuses to take part in her kisses, because he’s a coward, and he doesn’t understand their bond. More for Wade, then.
He sets her down on the bed next to him and takes the glass, smiling. “Thank you, peanut.”
Logan sits on the end of the bed while Wade chugs the glass of water like he’s fucking dying. The cotton mouth was no joke, and he feels like he’s spent the morning in the desert. When he finishes the water, he sighs in relief, slumping a little against the pillow at his back.
“Fuck, I needed that.” He sets the empty glass on the end table, and looks over at Logan, who’s just been sort of watching him. “Hey, honey badger, whatcha thinkin about over there?”
Logan shrugs. “Do you need anything else?”
Wade sighs. “You talk so much shit, but you’re the biggest softie I know. Look at you, hovering like a little mama bear. You’re so cute. No, I don’t need anything else right now, baby.” He pauses, and then he smiles. “Maybe some cuddling would be nice, though. I need my emotional support tits to make me feel better.” He bats his eyes.
Logan rolls his eyes, but he makes his way properly into the bed. Wade pulls Mary into his lap so Logan doesn’t crush her, even though he knows that would never actually happen. Once he settles, Logan reaches for Wade, gently pulling him in, and he goes, more willing than he ever has been. He wraps his arms around Logan’s waist and nuzzles his cheek against his ample chest. This is his happy place- snuggled against the world’s most perfect tits, thick hairy arms wrapped around him, the sound of Logan’s heartbeat in his ear.
His eyes flutter closed. “I’m really sorry I was mean to you,” he mumbles. He’s still high, and the words kind of fall out of him. “I love you so much, I’m just a bitch when everything hurts so bad.”
“I know,” Logan says, and it’s soft, kind. “Will it hurt if I rub your back? What kind of input feels bad?”
Wade groans. “Oh my god, babygirl, you’re the sweetest thing in the world.”
“Don’t tell anybody, I got a reputation to uphold.”
He snorts. “You kidding me? No one else better be getting this treatment, I’ll fuck them in the face with my swords. And then baby knife. And unload a clip up their ass for good measure. This is all mine, peanut.”
Logan chuckles, and the sound rumbles against Wade’s cheek. “Didn’t take you for the jealous type, bub.”
“I’ve always been the sharing type, but some things are too good to share. Namely you. Gonna be selfish with this one.” He nuzzles against Logan’s chest again for emphasis, squeezing his waist.
“You didn’t answer my question, by the way. What feels bad right now?”
“Rubbing will be too much. I feel kind of okay right now, but as soon as this weed wears off it’ll be bad again. This is fine. Just… staying here like this.”
Logan hums. “Okay.”
He presses a kiss to the top of Wade’s head, and his heart feels like it’s going to explode. He feels warm, languid, and most importantly, safe. He’d woken up this morning expecting to have a shit day, but now he’s in the perfect place. Logan is warm and soft and solid against him, immensely comforting. Wade keeps his eyes closed, listens to the rhythm of Logan’s heartbeat and his breathing, and Mary’s quiet wheezing breath from where she sits curled in his lap. This is a million times better than the last time had one of these days, miserably hunkered down on this couch, riding out the pain as best as he could with weed and watching a Golden Girls marathon with Al. And bless her, she was always a little softer with him on his bad pain days like this, but she didn’t baby him, and he never expected her to. He wouldn’t have let her if she had ever tried, either.
There’s something on the tv, but he can’t focus on it. He lets himself concentrate on the feeling of Logan around him. He periodically nuzzles against the ample old man breast pressed to his cheek, and enjoys being in his happy place.
At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because suddenly, he’s blinking his eyes open, disoriented. As he drifts back into consciousness, the pain trickles in with it. He groans. He also notices that Logan is still right where he left him, letting Wade use him as his own personal body pillow. He looks down at Wade as he feels him stir, gives his shoulder where his hand is resting a light squeeze of acknowledgement.
“Hi peanut,” Wade says, voice rough from sleep. “How long was I out?”
“Couple hours.” Logan lightly runs his fingertips across Wade’s shoulder, just for a moment.
“Mmm, think the weed put me to sleep.” He sighs, face pressed against Logan’s chest.
“How you feel, bub?”
He sighs again. “Hurting. Bad again now that everything wore off.”
“What do you need?” Logan asks softly.
Wade takes a moment to think about that as he slowly comes back to life. He pushes past the pain for a moment, since that’s the most obvious thing, and sort of takes stock of everything else. He has to piss. He’s hungry- he realizes he never actually ate a proper meal earlier, and he’s kind of fucking starving now. He shifts, groaning, trying to stretch out a little without causing himself too much discomfort.
”Gotta pee,” he says finally. “And I’m fucking starving.”
”Want me to order you something?”
He looks up at Logan and bats his eyes. “You’re the best, honey badger.”
”I was gonna order while you were asleep, but I didn’t know what you want,” Logan says as he starts moving a little, untangling himself from Wade so he can get up. He grabs his phone off the mattress next to him.
Wade groans. “God damn, pookie bear, you really are the sweetest.” He runs over options in his head, thinking about different places that sound good and also aren’t going to take an hour to deliver. “I want pho,” he settles, nodding as he moves to get out of bed. “That one place we always get from. And I want spring rolls. Get me the big bowl, too.”
Logan is already entering things into the phone. Wade finally gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. When he comes out, Logan is by the door, sliding a jacket on.
”Going somewhere, snookums?”
He turns to face Wade. “Yeah, gonna take the dog out. And I’m doing pickup on the food. Delivery’s gonna take a minute, so I’ll take the walk. S’only a couple blocks.”
Wade feels a truly disgusting rush of affection for his Wolverine. He makes his way over to the door, stopping in front of him to wrap his arms around his neck and plant a long, grateful kiss on his mouth. Logan’s hands gently touch his waist while they kiss, and Wade’s toes curl in his fuzzy socks. When they part, he gives a grin, and kisses the tip of Logan’s nose.
“Once I stop feeling like I’m being repeatedly hit by a fucking truck, I’m gonna fuck you until the bed breaks,” Wade says sweetly. “You really are the best, baby.”
Logan gives a half-hearted roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, get your ass back in bed.”
Wade giggles as he does just that, and Logan finishes getting Mary Puppins all hooked up for her walk. They go out the door, and Wade settles back into bed, trying to find something to put on the tv while he waits. He settles for Kitchen Nightmares, and sparks up another joint while he waits for his darlings to get back. The pain is back in full force, and being sober isn’t really an option right now.
He spends about 40 minutes laughing at the poor, stupid restaurant owners getting their asses handed to them by Gordon Ramsey before Logan returns, carrying a trembly Mary Puppins in one hand, and a bag of food in the other. He sets the food on the table before getting Mary out of her harness and jacket and booties. Wade turns eagerly to them, still pleasantly high and thrilled to see them.
“Oh, come see daddy, munchkin,” Wade coos as Mary trots over to him. She jumps up on the bed, and he pulls her into his arms so she can cover his face in kisses.
He’s still cooing at her and getting bathed with her tongue when Logan brings the food over. Wade sets Mary down on his lap and claps, a delighted squeal leaving him. Logan brandishes a cup of boba, and Wade’s eyes go wide.
”Figured you’d want a little treat,” he says, and his voice is a little gruff, but his expression is soft. “It’s that brown sugar one you like.”
Wade is surprised by the feeling of wanting to cry. His eyes burn, and he manages to barely hold back the urge by taking the cup out of Logan’s hand and making big eyes at him over it.
”Baby,” he says, his voice soft, “you’re the sweetest in the world. If my body didn’t hurt so much and I wasn’t about to die of starvation, I would suck your soul out through your dick right now.”
“Well, suck on those balls for now instead,” Logan says with an eye-roll.
Wade gasps. “Oh my god, you just made a sex joke !” He bursts into laughter, nearly doubling over. He clings to the cup of boba, making sure not to spill, and tears prick at the corner of his eyes. “Holy shit, peanut. You can’t sneak that shit on me when I’m this high, I’m gonna fucking die.”
Logan sits next to him on the bed while he composes himself, pulling food out of the bag. He did get the large bowl, per Wade’s request. He takes a few slurps of his drink before he eagerly dives in, putting his bowl together. He dumps the extras into his bowl, filling it with the bean sprouts, cilantro, and jalapeños. There’s a little sauce cup full of sriracha, and he dumps the whole thing in, rubbing his hands together and bouncing eagerly on the mattress as he stirs it all together. He doesn’t talk anymore as he dives in, moaning in pleasure at the first bite.
Logan stays next to him, and eats his own dinner. Mary curls up between them, switching between making doe eyes at the both of them to beg for scraps. Wade would normally indulge her, but sriracha will probably kill her, and even then, he’s not in a sharing mood- he’s high and also hasn’t eaten anything all day. He manages to put the bowl and his spring rolls away in record time, and flops against the pillows, sucking down the rest of his boba.
“That was exactly what I needed.” He sighs, gently patting his tummy. ”Pho is just one of those things that makes you feel good when you feel bad. Fuck grandma’s chicken soup, that’s the shit you want when you’ve got the sniffles. Or in my case, super cancer.”
Logan snorts as he gathers their garbage, but he has a fond little smile on his face. Wade always marvels at those looks- somehow, he’s managed to domesticate the Wolverine, and fuck, it’s a good look on him. He doesn’t get those looks with anyone outside of this apartment, except for Laura. It makes Wade feel warm, fulfilled in a way he thought he never would again after things ended with Vanessa. Yet here he is, being taken care of, looked after, loved , and it makes him feel like he could do anything. He just watches his man as he goes to put things away, feeling warm and fuzzy and sappy. And still a little high. That’s probably having an effect on his emotional state, but who fucking cares? Not him. He’s earned this sappy domestic bliss, thank you.
When Logan comes back into the living room, Wade makes grabby hands, and delights when he responds to them, climbing back into the bed and pulling him against his chest. He sighs happily, copping a feel of his favorite tits, and Logan doesn’t even chastise him for it. That’s real love.
“Feel a little better?” He asks softly.
Wade nods, savoring the feel of Logan’s body against him. “Much better, pumpkin. You’ve been so sweet to me all day, didn’t know you could be so domestic. Makes me all tingly in all the special places.”
He scoffs, but doesn’t push him away like he normally would. “Yeah, well, that’s kinda what you do for people you love.”
God, he’ll never get tired of hearing him say it. He doesn’t say it nearly as often as Wade does, always more reserved with verbally expressing his emotion like that, and every time he does, it makes Wade feel like he’s flying. His heart does a funny, swoopy thing, his stomach flutters, and he feels like a teenage girl.
Wade moves, crawls across Logan’s body to lie on top of him, and Logan, the big fucking softie, lets him. He wraps his arms around Wade’s waist, holding him in place, and rubs soothing hands down his back. Wade melts into it, melting into his touch, and sighs happily.
It’s not perfect, because life is far from it, but fuck, it’s good. The weed is wearing off, and the pain is creeping in a little more, the more manageable ache starting to evolve back into something more pressing, but he stays right where he is. Logan’s hands on his back are big and warm. He’s solid underneath him, and Wade just breathes in his smell, feels the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Mary is snoring on her little corner of the mattress.
He looks up at Logan, and the other man seems to have an extra sense for when Wade is looking at him, because he immediately turns his gaze from the tv and down to him. Wade smiles.
”Thank you,” Wade says quietly, “for being so patient with me today. I’m sorry I didn’t talk about this sooner. I’m sorry I was a bitch earlier. This is hard for me.”
”I know, Wade.” He keeps rubbing his back. His expression is soft. “It’s okay. I ain’t exactly the best at being taken care of, either.”
”Mmm.” Wade’s eyes slip shut, and he nuzzles against Logan’s chest. “You were right, peanut- we’re quite the pair.”
”And there ain’t nothin to forgive,” Logan says softly. “We do this shit together now, right?”
The burn of tears pricking at his eyes again. Wade squeezes them shut harder, wills himself not to cry as emotion wells in him. He thinks he’s been emotional enough, for one day. He just gives Logan a squeeze where his arms are wrapped around his waist, buries his face more fully against his tits.
”When did you get so goddamn soft and romantic?” He whines into the fabric of Logan’s shirt.
He grunts. “Always been that sort, really. Just uh, haven’t had a chance to dust it off in a while. Let an old man indulge himself, huh?”
Wade groans. “You can’t make me horny with your old man talk right now, I’m hurting too much to fuck you about it.”
Logan chuckles. “Fuck me about it later, bub, let me be a little sincere for once.”
He huffs, and squeezes his waist again. He unburies his face from Logan’s chest, and tilts his head up. Logan dips his head down, sweeps his mouth into a sweet kiss without even being asked, and that just makes Wade’s heart and tummy do their circus act again.
He settles back in his spot when they part. Logan keeps rubbing his back, and he’s grateful and surprised it doesn’t feel bad or agitate his skin. He melts back against him, and listens to his breathing. Logan chatters to him casually about the tv, groaning along with Gordon Ramsey as he finds mouse droppings and expired food in a restaurant’s shitty kitchen. He laughs, genuinely, at something that’s said, and Wade can’t even find it in himself to be irritated when he’s jostled on top of him for it.
Wade thinks a lot about saving the world. He thinks very frequently about his world-saving journey, and all the shit he went through to get here. He thinks about his impassioned speeches he gave, the way he held tight to his world even when it had all fallen apart and he wasn’t even really enjoying being a part of it anymore. He hadn’t been lying when he said over and over he was doing it for everyone else- his F-Word was worth more to him than anything else in this fucked up world. But Logan. Well. That really kind of took everything and shook it up until it exploded, like a bottle of soda being tossed around until the cap burst off. An explosion of carbonated sugar in his face, soaking him with- this metaphor was quickly getting away from him, but the point was, Logan changed everything, in more ways than one.
They saved each other. He knows this. They’ve talked about it a couple of times, in their rare vulnerable moments. And they just keep on saving each other. Wade was prepared to spend his day in abject misery until he passed out, praying the pain wouldn’t carry into tomorrow, but here he is, safe and taken care of, using the Wolverine as a pillow. His dog is sleeping on the end of their shitty shared bed. This is more than he had ever dared to ask for, and somehow, he’s got it.
He’s still hurting when he falls asleep, but he’s never felt better.