Work Text:
The elevator ride was tense, to say the least. Wade could feel the agitation rolling off the man standing beside him in waves.
He wanted to break the silence with a joke or a quip, but somehow even his mouth had been cowed by the look on Logan’s face when he’d grabbed Wade by the arm and growled “we’re leaving. Now.”
Which was a bit confusing because Logan had shoved him into the casino’s elevator instead of out the door, but the other man didn’t seem like he was in the mood for answering questions and Wade didn’t want to get blood on his fancy red cocktail dress, it was brand new.
The elevator dinged and he was once again grabbed tightly by the elbow and led (more like yanked) down the narrow corridor, this time stopping before a door long enough for Logan to pull a key card out of his fancy, silk lined pocket and swipe it.
The door lock made an electronic noise and lit up green and he pushed it open, then pushed Wade inside before following.
Wade turned around to speak, unable to hold it in any longer, but the words, along with his breath, were knocked out of him by the impact of his back against the door.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me all night?” Logan growled in his ear, voice low and dangerous. His body was pressed close against Wade’s and he could feel the hard outline of Logan’s arousal against his thigh. “Of course you do; you were doing it on purpose. I could barely concentrate this fucking mission. All I could think about was bending you over the nearest table, lifting up that pretty skirt and fucking you senseless.”
Wade whimpered, replaying the evening in his head. All those times he'd caught Logan staring with a frown on his face, the way he was ignoring him like his life depended on it… Wade had thought he’d swung too wide with the outfit choice and missed the mark completely. Shoulda known he’d hit a bullseye; Deadpool never misses.
Logan had been ignoring him not because he didn’t like it, but because he liked it too much.
Fuck if that didn’t go straight to his ego. And his cock.
“Thought you were mad at me,” Wade admitted. The man had an impeccable poker face. (Good thing too, since that’s what he’d been playing most of the night).
Logan nipped at his throat, growling.
“I am mad at you. You and your fucking thighs almost compromised this mission.” Logan dropped to his knees and began mouthing at the tops of Wade’s thigh-highs. “Took everything I had not to pull you onto my lap every time you walked past.” He lifted Wade’s right foot, big hands gliding smoothly down his calf to remove the high heel. He rubbed his cheek against the soft, silky stockings before placing the foot back on the ground and lifting the other for a repeat performance.
“You can’t show up looking like a snack and not expect me to want to eat you.” He bit down on the hard calf muscle near his mouth, laving his tongue against the sheer fabric covering his skin.
Wade giggled.
“I’d’ve let you,” he admitted. He’d been fantasizing about it most of the night. Not like there was much else for him to be doing.
“I know. Fuckin’ menace.” He punctuated that statement with another bite, this time right above Wade’s left knee.
Wade gasped, affronted by the (truthful) accusation.
“Me?”
“Don’t fucking pretend you’re innocent. You knew exactly what you were doing. You expect me to believe it was an accident that you sat directly in my line of sight all fucking night? That you didn’t know when you crossed your legs that fucking slit was riding up, showing off your thighs like a fucking slut?” He slid his hand under Wade’s dress, catching the gap in fabric at the side with his thumb and sliding it up until his hand was gripping Wade’s hip.
“That you didn’t think I’d recognize the panties I picked out for you specifically when I was on that mission in Tokyo last month?” They were his exact shade of red and black lace, with three skimpy straps tied in bows across the hips connecting the front and back. They’d caught Logan’s eye in a store window display immediately, practically made for his partner. He couldn’t not buy them.
“Purely coincidence. They’re the only ones that matched,” Wade lied.
“Bullshit. You have at least three other pair that’re red. You wore these,” he snapped the waistband harshly and Wade keened at the sting of it, “on purpose.”
He caved. There really was no arguing with that.
“Okay, but it's at least fifty percent your fault too.”
“How’s that?”
“You’ve been gone for weeks!” -
- “Two days.” -
- “And then you have the audacity to look like that? That white jacket, the bow tie. The fucking eyepatch! You know how I feel about the Patch storyline – and every other time the artists put those shoulders in a goddamn suit. Not that I don’t love the lumberjack look,” he backtracked, lest Logan think he had some kind of preference of one over the other. “I do, immensely. You can handle my wood all day, baby.” He winked and Logan rolled his eyes. Well, eye. He hadn’t taken the eyepatch off yet.
“I still don’t see how me dressing in a disguise for work is responsible for you parading around like a whore all night.”
He ran his tongue up the side of the strap connecting Wade’s garter belt to the tops of his stockings.
“Nnghh it’s… it’s connected. And you’re totally responsible. I just can’t remember how at the moment. Maybe you should keep doing that and it’ll come to me.”
“Oh, something’s gonna come all right,” Logan muttered under his breath, repeating the action on the other leg.
“Hhnghn you can’t make jokes while looking like that, I can’t take it. I’m the only one allowed to be funny and hot.”
“You’re in no position to be telling me what to do, sweetheart.”
Logan stood up abruptly, placing his hands under Wade’s thighs and lifting him. Wade squealed in delight, instinctively wrapping his legs around Logan’s waist and arms around his neck, taking the opportunity to slide his fingers into Logan’s soft hair.
He got one single kiss, more teeth and tongue than anything else, before being unceremoniously dropped on the back of a couch.
Logan took a few steps back and removed his white dinner jacket and eyepatch, tossing them both carelessly to the floor.
Wade was far too distracted by the reveal of his naked forearms as Logan rolled his sleeves up to take in their surroundings, but if they had, they would’ve wondered why the hell their partner got a fancy as fuck suite in a Madripoor casino for his undercover mission while Wade was lucky if he got a Motel 6 half the time. Rude.
Logan took his time drinking in the sight of Wade draped against the back of the couch while he untied his silk bow tie. His red lipstick was smudged from the kissing, one side of his cropped black jacket had fallen down his muscular shoulder, his long legs bent elegantly, red skirt bunched high up his thighs revealing a tantalizing strip of skin peeking above his stockings that Logan wanted to sink his teeth into.
Logan stalked toward him like every bit of the predator he was. Wade’s heart rate kicked up, despite knowing he was in no real danger.
He was prey, about to be wholly, willingly devoured.
Logan seized him by the hips and turned him around roughly, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pushing until he was bent over the back of the couch.
“This what you wanted, Red?”
Wade’s responding giggle was giddy and breathless.
Logan pulled the jacket from his shoulders, down his arms until they were trapped behind him at the elbow. His gloved hands clenched into fists, but didn’t fight it.
(Only Wade could manage to be covering so much and yet seem so exposed; slutty and scandalous with barely any skin showing).
Logan slid his hands down the newly exposed back, enjoying the juxtaposition of rough flesh and silky soft dress under his palms, until he reached the hem. He yanked it up over Wade’s ass as high as it would go with his hips trapped against the couch. High enough for his purposes.
“Please,” Wade begged – for what, he wasn’t sure yet, but he was ready and willing for anything.
“You’re in trouble. You don’t get to make demands.”
“M’sorry,” Wade mumbled against the couch cushions, sounding anything but.
“Too late for sorry,” Logan said, using his knee to nudge Wade’s legs apart wider.
The lingerie stretched obscenely across his ass, the cheeky cut accentuating the curvy, plush perfection.
Logan took a moment to admire before he slid fingers under the lacy fabric, pulling it to one side and spreading Wade open with both hands. Wade felt the heat of Logan’s breath on his skin before, with no warning, Logan spit. It trailed hot and wet against his exposed hole. Wade felt so utterly, deliciously, filthy he couldn’t’ve stopped the guttural moan from escaping his lips if he’d tried. (He didn’t). He squirmed under Logan’s touch, earning a sharp bite to his shoulder blade.
“Be still.” Logan uttered the command as he dropped to his knees. He knew it was unlikely to be followed for long, but his princess deserved a little struggle for all the torture they’d put him through tonight. This was all he’d been able to think about since he’d seen that little peek of satin and lace.
That had been hours ago.
Now, Logan took what’d been teased to him, dangled in front of his face, just out of reach.
Wade keened at the first swipe of his tongue, and didn’t stop making whiny, mewling noises the entire time Logan’s mouth was on him. The sounds filled his ears, becoming white noise, his senses overwhelmed with Wade – his taste, his scent, his sounds – Logan let himself get lost in it.
Wade struggled to stay still, but every time Logan’s tongue teased his hole with short kitten licks and the lightest press in he couldn’t stop himself from pressing back into the touch, trying – and failing – to get more. His skin was getting sensitive from the scratch of Logan’s beard and the little teasing nips that he wouldn’t commit to turning into real bites.
It was terrible and perfect and so fucking frustrating.
“More,” he begged when the pad of Logan’s thumb brushed against his spit slick hole but went no further.
“What did I say about demands, Princess? You don’t get to make ‘em. You’re being punished.”
“I’m being tortured,” he corrected, whine high in his throat.
“If you want me to stop…”
“No! Please, no, don’t stop, I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” he backtracked quickly. Logan laughed, cruelly.
“You won’t, but you can try a little longer for me.”
Despite his words, Logan stopped teasing and went back to eating him out with single-minded purpose, too impatient to make them both suffer any longer.
“Stay,” he instructed, after an indeterminate amount of time had passed. He could’ve made Wade come like that – himself too for how much he enjoyed it, the feeling of them around his tongue, the tight muscle getting looser and looser by the minute, opening for him; the unabashed pleasure it wrought from his partner – but he wanted more. He’d been thinking about this all night and he wasn’t about to let it end that quick.
Wade whined at the loss of contact but stayed where he was, enjoying the helpless, vulnerability Logan’s mood was stirring up in him. He felt a little lightheaded, a pleasant, tingly buzz lighting up his body from the position and Logan’s tongue.
Just as the sexiness of the position started to fade into self-consciousness, Logan returned, the heat and pressure of his hand trailing down Wade’s side immediately calming the oncoming discomfort.
“Coincidence, huh?” Logan asked, a moment later, amusement coloring his words as he came back to stand behind his partner. Wade heard a click then his clutch was dropped on the cushion right next to his face.
“That why the only things in your purse are lipstick and lube?”
Whoops. Busted.
“A girl’s gotta be prepared,” Wade retorted, shrugging as best they could with their arms pinned behind their back.
“For what? Getting dicked down in a casino bathroom?”
“Or blow jobs. Wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for.”
“I was in the mood to do my job but my partner is a needy, impatient slut who just couldn’t wait a few more days to bend over for me,” he growled, closer to Wade’s face than he’d realized, making him jump slightly. “You’re not supposed to be here, Wade.”
“Hey! I’m undercover too.”
Logan snorted. Wade was the most conspicuous person he’d ever met. Deadpool didn’t disappear just because they put on a dress.
“I missed you,” he tried instead, a little too much sincerity shining through.
Logan bit him hard on the ear.
“Ow!”
“Don’t be sweet, you’re being punished.”
Wade lifted his head to glare at his partner.
“Sorry, I’ll just keep my mouth shut and take it like a good girl, shall I?”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, sweetheart.” Logan pushed his face back into the cushions with a hand on the back of his head.
Wade made an indignant noise that turned into a pleased one when Logan pressed his finger against their entrance, spreading the lube around before pushing all the way in, giving his needy slut no time to adjust before he started moving. Wade tried to meet him halfway, moving his hips to take his thick finger faster, harder, but Logan quickly put an end to that, pinning him in place with a hand at the small of his back.
He struggled against it but had no real leverage with his arms still trapped behind his back and his stockinged feet slipping against the laminate floor.
“Fu-uh-ck me already you – ah shit – bastard.”
Logan pulled completely out.
Waited.
“Nonono I need it, please god I need it, don’t stop.”
“I needed to concentrate on this mission, but you didn’t care about that. Why should I care about what you need, hmm?”
Wade let out a broken sob. (A little overdramatic, sure, but Logan like it when he gave into the desperation, so why hold back?)
“Answer me! Why should I give a fuck,” he emphasized the word by shoving his finger roughly back inside him and pressing the hard line of his cock against Wade’s thigh, “about what you need?”
“Feels – ah – like you need it too, boss. Don’t think of it as – oh fuck right there – giving me what I need, think about it as taking what you want,” he tried negotiating, arching his back as well as he could with the minimal leverage he had. “You want it, don’t you? It’s yours, all yours, only yours.”
“Then why were you showin’ it off for everyone to see earlier? These,” he snapped the straps of Wade’s panties again, “are mine. This,” he grabbed a handful of Wade’s ass and squeezed hard enough to bruise, Wade keened, encouraging, “is mine. And this,” his hand slid around to the front of Wade’s panties, cupping his hard, neglected cock for the first time that night, “is,” he gave it a single stroke, finding that bundle of nerves inside Wade with his other hand at the same time, “mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes! God yes. Was all for you,” Wade slurred, shaking his head back and forth. “Didn’t even know anyone else was in the room.”
Logan chuckled, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s the problem, Princess.”
He added a second finger, sooner than he normally would’ve, pressing in deep and scissoring them apart in an attempt to speed up the process. Wade was tight around his fingers, a velvety heat that held him in a grip he never wanted to leave. His cock leaked at the thought of how it would feel once he was inside. He spread his fingers wide as he pulled them out, Wade’s body clinging tight to him, beckoning him back in.
Wade, for his part, certainly wasn’t complaining about the rushed treatment. He arched his back and spread his legs as far as he could while still staying balanced, begging with his body for Logan to hurry up and fuck him.
And his words.
“Fuck yes finally. Come on big boy, fuck me like you mean it. Hurry up baby, put that gorgeous dick inside me.”
Logan groaned.
Mouthy fucker.
He leaned forward, draping himself over Wade’s back as he continued to work his fingers in and out, intentionally avoiding his prostate in punishment.
“Good girls take what they’re given and don’t complain,” Logan chastised, grinning vindictively against his temple.
Wade turned his head and, faster than Logan could react, took his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard, drawing blood.
“I lied,” he said, releasing Logan’s lip, feral grin on his face. “I’m not a good girl.”
“No shit.”
Logan pulled them back in by the back of the neck, licking his blood off his partner’s teeth and adding a third finger, roughly thrusting in and out – a reward or punishment, he couldn’t be sure anymore.
Wade traced his tongue along one of Logan’s sharp canines, intentionally nicking the muscle, the coppery taste of his own blood mingling with the remnants of Logan’s in their mouths.
That was it.
His final thread of restraint snapped. He needed to be inside Wade right. Fucking. Now.
He straightened up, curving his fingers to find Wade’s prostate in a brief tease before pulling his fingers free entirely. He ignored the gasping whines, yanking the lacy panties further to the side to make space for his cock.
The elastic dug into Wade’s skin, creating pretty red lines and providing a painfully pleasurable sensation.
“You’re going to rip them!” He complained, even as he leaned into the sting. Logan smacked his newly bared asscheek before squeezing the plush flesh and spreading him open.
“You knew the risks.”
Logan grabbed the bottle of lube from where he’d left it within reach, applying a generous amount to his cock before dripping some directly onto Wade’s hole, watching as it clenched around nothing, begging to be filled. He lined up and pushed past the tight ring of muscle before Wade’s initial startled reaction even had time to finish leaving his mouth.
“Fuckfuckfuck.”
“You said you wanted it, so fucking take it.”
Logan set a punishing pace, fucking him hard, slamming into that tight heat and pulling back as slow as he could stand to, enjoying the way it made Wade tremble underneath him.
“Nngghn huh-harder,” came a slurred, muffled demand, the power behind it somewhat undermined by the breathlessness.
Logan bent forward, the angle causing his dick to drag against Wade’s prostate with every (nearly) bone shattering thrust, and bit him again, hard enough to break through the skin on the back of his neck. Wade opened his mouth in a gasp at the pain and suddenly it was being stuffed with something – a silky piece of fabric that his brain somehow had the synapses to interpret as the bow tie that had been around Logan’s neck all night long.
He moaned and pressed back against the solid wall of muscle at his back, the sound effectively muffled by the makeshift gag.
He couldn’t beg anymore, but he didn’t have to; Logan was giving him everything he could’ve asked for and then some. His body shook with the intensity of it all, his cock, trapped in rough lace between the couch back and his stomach, ached with the need for more? Less? He didn’t know, could barely tell one sensation from another it felt so good and so much. He never wanted it to stop.
Logan’s hand came to his chin, turning his face to the side so he could reach his mouth. Wade’s lips were stretched wide around the fabric, spit dripping down his chin. Logan licked the corner of his mouth, tasting the mixture of salty tears and saliva.
“Are you proud of yourself?” He asked, low and dangerous against Wade’s ear. They shivered beneath him.
Logan’s hand tightened on their chin.
“I asked you a question.”
Wade nodded obediently. He was actually feeling pretty proud of himself right now. Or he would be if his brain wasn’t melting from how turned on he was.
“Of course you are. You got what you wanted. You happy now that you’ve got something filling up that needy little hole of yours?”
Said hole clenched around him, drawing a deep, guttural noise from his chest.
“You gonna come for me? Make a mess of the gift I bought you? Ruin your pretty dress?” He continued to grind his hips forward, relentlessly rubbing up against Wade’s prostate, making them see stars. They could barely think let alone answer rhetorical fucking questions. They nodded, not entirely sure what Logan was saying but knowing they’d agree to anything if it meant they’d be allowed to come.
“Go on then. Show me how bad you needed it. Make a mess for me.” He slid his hand down the front of Wade’s panties, providing relief from the rough scratch of lace and just what Wade needed to follow that command.
Fucking hell he was devastatingly beautiful in his pleasure. Head thrown back as he wailed, sound only moderately dampened by his gag. His scarred skin was flushed nearly as red as his dress. His hands, clenched tightly into fists, were still trapped behind him, pulling his shoulders back, putting his taut muscles on display. Logan could’ve admired that sight alone all night, but his lower half… Jesus Christ.
Logan trailed his hands up stockinged thighs, played with the little black straps of his garter belt while his partner squirmed with the aftershock of his orgasm, still desperate for more, pushing back and fucking himself on Logan’s throbbing dick while the other stood still and watched the shameless display. He placed one palm on either side of his ass and spread his cheeks, moaning at the sight of himself disappearing into Wade’s body like he belonged there. His mouth watered at the sight and he let it gather in his mouth then spit, saliva trailing hot and slick from the top of Wade’s crack to where the head of Logan’s dick was spearing him open with shallow thrusts. Wade must’ve been able to feel it even through the overstimulation because his hole fluttered and clenched tight around Logan, milking his orgasm from him for everything he was worth.
The first spurt of cum leaked from Wade’s hole as he watched and he groaned, pulling Wade’s hips flush with his own, finishing deep inside him, grinding and twitching with aborted little thrusts until he was utterly spent.
He stayed there, panting against Wade’s back until his brain came back online some minutes later.
This was why Wade never learned his lessons. The consequences were too good for either of them to want his bad behavior to stop.
He pulled out slowly and groaned as he watched his cum drip down the inside of his partner’s thighs, staining their pretty tights.
He helped Wade stand upright, pulling the ruined bow tie from his mouth and easing the wrinkled jacket from his arms, massaging the soreness from his shoulders. Wade leaned heavily against him, legs barely more functional than a newborn fawn.
“You’re buying me a new dress.”
Logan laughed, kissed his pouty, lipstick-stained lips.
“Honey, I’ll buy you a hundred more dresses if you keep puttin’ out like that when you wear ‘em.”
Wade gasped, took a step back, and placed a scandalized hand to his chest, healing factor kicked in enough to stand on his own now.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m completely innocent.” He batted his eyes at Logan, eyeliner smudged to hell and cheeks stained with tears.
The other man gave him a very deliberate once over.
“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Princess. The cum stains on your thighs say otherwise.”
“Don’t slut shame me.”
“Who’s shaming? I think fucked out’s a good look on you.” He wrapped his arms back around his lover, pressing in close. “In fact, I think it’d be downright gorgeous with that mattress as a backdrop. What d’you say, beautiful? Up for round two?” He started walking them towards the bed, carefully guiding Wade around any obstacles in their way.
“God, you’re insatiable,” Wade remarked with a grin, hands traveling down Logan’s chest to unbutton his shirt.
“For you? Completely.”
“Lucky for you,” Wade said, pushing out of Logan’s grasp so he could crawl onto the bed, his skirt hiked up just enough that Logan could see a peek of his abused hole, red and shiny with lube and Logan’s cum. He stopped in the middle of the bed, turning to look over his shoulder. “I’m a slut for room service.”