Chapter Text
1
“You smell like home,” Logan admits, nosing along Wade’s throat without purpose. He follows the path of his nose with his mouth, licking and nipping at scarred skin, and hums happily when Wade’s pulse jumps under his lips.
It’s a heady sensation, laying himself bare like this. Logan feels drunk on it, almost, the thrill of his confessions, the unmistakable and sincere reciprocity, the awe and the pure need that are starting to push their way into Wade’s scent, replacing the hurt and resignation from earlier. Guiltily, knowing damn well it’s his fault for being fucking terrible at communicating, Logan cups Wade’s neck to tilt his head back even more, and places a series of quick, apologetic kisses to the sensitive skin behind his ear.
He might not know how to say things properly, not always, but he’s a man of action; he can show Wade what he doesn’t know how to put in words.
“Okay!”
Logan jerks back when Wade moves away to clap his hands together, heart beating wildly and lips parted around deep, heavy breaths.
“That’s it, Casanova, we’re done here. Sorry to our devoted audience,” Logan hears the college girls from the first floor giggle before their door slams shut quickly, “but this is it.”
With that, Wade moves, swings his leg over both of Logan’s, and settles down on Logan’s lap like there’s no place he’d rather be, right now. They both wince when Wade’s hip pops, still not fully healed, and Logan pushes a hand under Wade’s sweats to gently press his thumb into the tender joint.
He opens his mouth to ask if Wade’s okay, but Wade beats him to it with, “Put a baby in me, or die trying, honey.”
The last of the leftover tension from their argument bleeds out of Logan as he drops his head to bump it against Wade’s chest, chuckling softly. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”
Wade’s got a brow quirked in challenge when Logan chances a glance up at him. “So that’s a no?”
And Logan—Logan’s a weak man, deep down, no matter how hard he tries to hide and deny it.
Weak for the beautiful bastard grinning down at him, tongue sticking out between his teeth. It should make him look ridiculous, and it does, but the animal in Logan’s chest doesn’t give a fuck, and for once, it and Logan are in total agreement about something.
About someone.
Logan curls his hands around Wade’s thighs, giving them a hard squeeze, and knows his voice comes out tellingly rough, knows his canines must be showing, when he growls, “Didn’t say that, bub.”
Wade lets out an incredibly satisfying, startled squawk when Logan stands suddenly, hands flying up to cling to Logan’s bare shoulders. It turns into a delighted laugh as Logan turns and starts walking, his eyes shining with promise, crinkled happily around the corners, and his lips soft and warm when they come down to meet Logan’s.
Despite Wade’s best efforts, Logan gets them both back upstairs in one piece, though not without a quick break to make out against the wall until the guy living on the second floor bangs on his door, and yells at them to get a goddamn room.
Wade only pulls back long enough to shout back, “Sorry, Stan!” before he descends on Logan again.
Logan doesn’t waste any time once they’re back in their apartment, carrying Wade through to his room to throw him down on the bed. Wade bounces, laughing breathlessly, but it trails off into a drawn-out moan when Logan unceremoniously drops his jeans. He scrambles up to start tugging off Logan’s tank he must’ve stolen at some point, and Logan comes to kneel at the end of the bed, watching him hungrily.
Wade throws the tank away carelessly, eyes fixed on Logan, and wriggles to get out of his sweats.
Deciding to be helpful, Logan yanks them off for him.
Wade lets his head fall back into the pillows with a groan.
Logan takes the opportunity to put his mouth back on Wade’s neck, sucking an unfortunately short-lived bruise into the hinge of his jaw. Wade’s fingers dig into his back, then drag down, nails catching and making shivers run down Logan’s spine. One hand comes back up to play with Logan’s hair, giving it a few teasing tugs, while the other fumbles for the nightstand drawer.
There’s the snick of a bottle being flicked open, and anticipation builds in Logan’s stomach, white hot and sharp. Fingers, cold and slick with lube, wrap around his cock, making him breathe harshly against Wade’s cheek as Wade strokes him once, twice, three times before his hand disappears again.
He kisses Logan’s temple when Logan lets out a disgruntled grunt, sounding amused. “Patience is a virtue, peanut.”
That bullshit doesn’t deserve an answer, so Logan bites his ear in retaliation, then sucks the lobe between his lips to nibble at it. He shifts his weight to one side, to have enough balance to pull his other leg up just enough to spread himself in clear, impatient invitation.
Wade slaps his ass, because of course he does, leaving a sticky handprint behind. He licks Logan’s cheek when Logan grumbles at him, follows it with a kiss, and then a breathy little noise that’s unexpected enough to catch Logan’s attention.
He moves back, looking down at Wade. Wade’s already looking back with half-lidded eyes, lips red and shiny as he keeps making those noises, his arm moving rhythmically, slowly, up and down. Logan blinks, then looks down between them—
Without his conscious input, Logan’s back on his knees, over Wade, fingers curled tightly around Wade’s wrist to stop his movements. Wade has two fingers inside himself, shoved in up to the second knuckle, and clenches around them as Logan watches, his hole twitching around the intrusion. A trickle of lube oozes out between his fingers, and Logan has to close his eyes and count to ten.
Twice.
Still, all he manages to grit out once he’s composed himself enough to speak, is a strangled, “What are you doing.”
“Well, y’know, our chances of conceiving are already slim,” Wade says, and fucking winks at Logan, “but they’re pretty much nil if you don’t put that gorgeous specimen of manhood inside me at some point tonight and—”
“Wade,” Logan bites out, fingers twitching around Wade’s wrist.
He can feel the bones grind together, and immediately loosens his grip, gently rubbing his thumb along the side of Wade’s hand.
Wade shrugs his free shoulder. “If you’re up for it—heh—of course. No pressure, princess.”
He looks relaxed sprawled across the sheets, not a hint of anxiety or pain in his scent when Logan concentrates on breathing him in. Still. “We—I don’t need—I’d never—”
Frustrated with himself, Logan hisses, baring his teeth. Somehow, Wade’s expression goes softer still, and he pulls his hand free, of himself and Logan, and uses it to urge Logan closer, into a lazy kiss. “I know you don’t. That you wouldn’t. That’s the whole fucking point, isn’t it?”
He’s got Logan by the chin, eyes flickering over Logan’s face for a long moment, before he nods to himself, determined. “How about I tell you what I want, and then you tell me if that sounds good to you, hm?”
“Yeah,” Logan manages, relieved. “Yeah, that’s—all right.”
Wade uses his grip to tug him the rest of the way in, more smiling against his mouth than actually kissing him. “I want you to keep kissing me,” he mumbles, and that Logan can do; he traces the tip of his tongue along Wade’s bottom lip slowly, lingering on the plumpest part. “Yeah, just like that, that’s perfect.”
Eyes fluttering shut, Logan pecks the corner of Wade’s mouth, waiting for further instruction.
“I want you to use your fingers,” Wade continues, and takes Logan’s hand, nudging it downwards. Logan takes his time, brushing over the ticklish spot on Wade’s ribs, trailing his fingers along his abs and down the V of his hips, finally circling them around Wade’s flushed cock. “That’s good. Not what I meant, but good.”
“Hmm,” Logan hums, releasing him again.
Wade’s still wet enough for Logan to easily slip a finger inside him, making them both groan, for entirely different reasons.
“Two,” Wade demands, and Logan obeys, adding another finger. “Tell me what I smell like.”
“Horny,” Logan blurts, scissoring his fingers, any filters he might’ve had at some point completely gone.
Wade doesn’t seem to give a shit, though. “Like I want this?” he presses, and Logan nods, thoughts fuzzy-warm, because yeah, yes.
“That’s right. Three now, come on.” Wade's mouth falls open, smearing hotly against Logan’s chin, when Logan does as he’s told. “Your pretty dick, whenever you’re ready. That’s what I want, peanut.”
Logan hesitates. Kisses Wade’s nose, because that’s what’s closest right now. “Promise me.” He swallows hard, painfully, and forces himself to look up and meet Wade’s dark eyes. “That you’ll tell me. If you don’t—if I do something—wrong.”
Wade touches his fingers to Logan’s cheek, a private little smile playing around his mouth. Brushes some sweaty hair back from Logan’s forehead. “You won’t,” he murmurs, with a conviction Logan envies, “you haven’t yet. Not where it counts.”
“You have too much faith in me, Wade,” Logan sighs, hanging his head. His chest feels warm, though, his heart full in a way he isn’t sure he knows how to put in words, which. No surprise, there.
He has to pull his fingers out when Wade shifts, thighs coming up to bracket Logan’s hips. “Gotta have faith,” he sings, bubbling with laughter when Logan groans, definitely not from pleasure this time, and nips at his shoulder. Grabbing Logan’s hair to pull him back up to his face, into another kiss, he mumbles, “Promise. Cross my heart, scout’s honor.”
The first, slow push inside is near overwhelming, has Logan gritting his teeth against the tight, delicious pressure all around him. He goes to reach for Wade’s own cock, but Wade shakes his head, straining up for Logan’s mouth again. “Don’t need it, trust me. You’re more than enough, big guy.”
That’s almost enough to do Logan in.
He rallies, though, encouraged by Wade’s enthusiasm and the heels digging into his ass. They’re not kissing, not really, more sharing hot, humid air between them, lips dragging and catching against each other. Logan’s hands are framing Wade’s face, holding him still, exactly where he wants him, and Wade’s giving as good as he gets, fingers tangled in Logan’s hair.
Logan adjusts his thrusts, making them long and deep to hit Wade’s prostate with every stroke, and Wade keens into his mouth, nails scratching at Logan’s scalp. Wade’s dick twitches where it’s pressed against Logan’s hip, Logan bites Wade’s lower lip, tasting copper, and Wade wails as he comes undone, crying, “Logan,” into Logan’s mouth.
Weak man that he is, Logan never stood a chance, not in the face of this.
He follows Wade over the edge, panting into Wade’s neck, chest heaving.
They breathe together, fast and then slower, for long minutes. Logan peppers the side of Wade’s face he can reach with kisses. Wade absently twirls a strand of Logan’s hair around his finger, over and over again.
Eventually, though, Wade grunts, and swats at him. “Okay, metal man, how about we give my lungs a break, huh?”
Reluctantly, Logan pulls out, and rolls off him, sitting up, back on his knees between Wade’s splayed legs. His cock gives a hopeful twitch at the sight of his release dripping out of Wade, some fucked up, primal surge of pride lightening up his chest. He doesn’t even realize he’s licking his lips until Wade’s foot connects with his stomach, pushing him back.
“Absolutely not, honey badger, my ass is officially on break,” Wade chides, his scowl half-hearted at the very best. “Go grab me a towel or something, fuck’s sake.”
Logan wipes himself down in the bathroom, then grabs a washcloth and cleans Wade up as well, gentle as he can, senses on high alert for any sort of discomfort. Wade only hums, though, practically melting into the sheets, and makes grabby hands at Logan that turn out to be completely irresistible. Curling himself around Wade, with Wade smushing his face into his chest like that’s comfortable, Logan pulls the duvet up snugly over the both of them, his chin coming to rest on top of Wade’s head.
He’s drifting, dozing, almost off to sleep when Wade says quietly, the first hint of vulnerability in hours tripping him up, “It won’t be like this every time. It was—today was a good day, y’know? For me. For this.”
“Men tend to look at me,” Logan starts, haltingly, after carefully considering his words for fucking once, “and have—certain preconceptions. Expectations, really.”
Wade snuggles more closely against him, yawing deeply. “You do give off daddy top vibes for sure, big guy.”
Logan flicks his ear.
“Don’t worry, peanut,” Wade says, and Logan can feel him grin against his pec, “I know you like it up the—”
This is the man Logan’s in love with.
Zeus fucking help him.