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It’s a dreary, rainy day. The pungent stink of the city is temporarily dampened by the freshness that comes with a good storm. In a few hours it’ll just smell like wet garbage, but for now, it’s lovely.
The inside of the pub is warm and inviting to a man such as Logan by contrast, smells of beer and fried food. He’s on his way back to the booth he’s claimed with Wade, drinks in hand. He’d gone up to the bar to slip the bartender an extra $10 to make their drinks a bit more mutant-friendly . They come here often enough that saff usually knows to adjust Logan and Wade’s drink orders, but this bartender is new. As he rounds a corner, searing jealousy ignites in his stomach and sets his blood boiling.
Another man’s made himself comfortable in the space Logan had occupied moments earlier, sitting far too close to Wade for his comfort. The man’s slouched forward, one elbow on the table. Wade’s smirking and chattering away at him, no doubt laying on the insults. The way the guy’s sitting suggests he’s flirting, heavily.
Wade’s not a fucking damsel in distress, and Logan knows that. He knows that, okay? The merc’s more than capable of handling a stranger hitting on him however he wants to. (Preferably with violence.) But this guy’s fucked up big time. He’s gone and made the mistake of doing it within Logan’s line of sight.
The muscles in Logan’s palms and forearms tighten reflexively. He wants to rip this prick’s kneecaps right out. All he can see is the back of the guy’s head, a shitty fade and a gold chain. He wonders if it’s real gold– soft, easy to snap, or plated steel that will hold were he to twist it taut enough to, say…collapse a trachea.
They’re in an almost nice pub. This place is local and he’d like to come back. It would be a shame to start a scene, and Logan’s not a goddamn animal. So he takes some deep breaths, like dozens of people have told him to before, but the only voice that rings in his head is Laura’s.
The kid knows what it’s like, to be seen as nothing but a monster, a weapon. So it’s different when she suggests that maybe all he needs to do in these moments of blind rage is fucking breathe and remember he’s still a human being.
In, two, three, four, five. Hold... Out, two, three, four, five. Hold... Repeat.
It’s not much, but it’s something, and Logan’s thoughts start to slow down to a speed he can comprehend. This guy’s still gonna get what’s coming to him, but Logan won’t ruin their date over some dipshit. Wade deserves better than that.
Logan walks over, sets their drinks down in a civilized manner before resting his hand on the stranger’s shoulder.
“You lost, bub?” Logan asks, squeezing a little more roughly than he needs to.
Dipshit cranks his neck around and gives him a rotten look, then his eyes widen in recognition, fear. Logan’s still not used to that– it’s been ages since Wade pulled him out of his nightmare of a reality where people only ever looked at him in disgust and into this hazy, borderline domestic fever dream. At one point, it bothered him, because anything anyone felt towards him in this universe was skewed by The Other Guy. But it’s been almost a year now, and anyone who’s paid attention now knows he’s his own man.
Wade’s face cracks in a lopsided grin. “Oh, did I not mention I’m bangin’ the hot new Wolverine?”
“I, I– was, uh, just leavin’,” The guy stammers. His body tenses as he tries to stand, but Logan’s hand keeps him firmly seated.
“Yeah, you were,” Logan squeezes hard, can see the prick trying to act tough, control his expression and not yowl like a cat whose tail’s been stepped on. He leans in to whisper into the man’s ear: “I catch your eyes on my boyfriend again… can’t promise I’ll let you keep ‘em.”
He releases his grip and Dipshit takes off like a bat out of hell. Wade is looking at him, wide-eyed and still grinning stupidly.
“I told him my wifey could bench him with one arm, but he didn’t believe me, snookums.”
Logan glances over his shoulder. The guy didn’t leave, he’s still in the building, sitting down to sulk at the bar. A primitive part of Logan’s brain kind of wants to chase Dipshit off the property entirely. Logan’s still irritated, less so as he sits down beside Wade, but still glowering in the stranger’s direction. He must’ve been tuned out glaring daggers for longer than he realized, because Wade sounds a bit distraught when he tunes back in after hearing his name.
“Yoo-hoo, paging Dr. Wolverine. You mad at me?” Wade asks. “I knew I shoulda knocked his teeth out,”
Logan snorts, turns his attention away from the other guy and back to Wade, where it belongs. “No. No, ain’t mad at you, doll. You shoulda, though.”
He’s having a rough time displacing the anger in his system, but Wade’s doing what he does best and molding it into something more palatable just by being close. Wade’s sitting there, pretty as a peach and smelling like one too. He’s wearing his fruit print button up and peach-mango body spray, smells absolutely edible. He even ordered a peach flavored drink today. Logan used to think his proclivity for thematic outfits, dates, etc. was childish. Now he adores it, just like he adores everything else about the man before him.
“I’ll stomp on over there right now and introduce his colon to his tighty-whities,” Wade insists.
Logan laughs, rests his hand on Wade’s shoulder and rubs reassuringly. “Nah… Fuck ‘em.”
“Fuck you!” Wade chirps loudly in the man’s direction, grinning.
This catches Dipshit’s attention– he’s looking at them now, and Logan knows exactly what to do about it. He takes Wade’s chin in his hand and turns his head so he can lean in and kiss him, deep and possessive and a little bit nasty, flashing a little too much teeth and tongue to pretend it’s not for show. He wants everyone in the bar to know Wade’s his.
Logan pulls away when a tiny moan slips from Wade’s throat and into his, shoots right to his cock like a bolt of lightning. He’d love to make Wade make more of those soft noises in front of everyone.
“You’re gonna give me a chub in the club,” Wade huffs, accusatory.
“From a kiss?” Logan teases as if he’s not already stirring with interest himself.
“ That wasn’t a kiss, ” Wade laughs. “ That was tongue-fucking my mouth. In public .”
Logan grins, doesn’t answer, just pulls Wade in for another sloppy kiss. This time Wade cups his cheek in return, matching Logan’s showmanship move for move with his tongue, and gives Logan’s lower lip a rough tug with his teeth as they part. Along with the smell of greasy pub food and strangers milling around, the scent of Wade’s arousal is seeping out from under the table, tantalizing and subtle.
“Yep, boner city.” Wade sighs softly. He runs his fingers through Logan’s facial hair, scratches rough and deep, just the way he likes it. (In more ways than one.)
Logan casually slides his hand up Wade’s thigh, seeking what he knows is tucked away in his tight, tattered jeans. Logan’s fingers ghost over every tear in the denim, scraping his nails across Wade’s sensitive skin anywhere he can before they find their prize. Wade is almost cold to the touch everywhere but his cock, which Logan strokes gently through the fabric a few times.
“Don't do this to me,” Wade whines quietly, leaning into Logan’s side.
Feigning ignorance, Logan cants his head to the side. “Do what?”
Wade slumps down into the booth a little, spreading his legs a couple inches as Logan continues to stroke him through the jeans, dragging his nails across the fabric roughly.
“ Sonuvabitch ,” Wade exhales.
Logan takes his drink in his free hand, watches Wade from the corner of his eye as he raises it to his lips and downs half the glass.
“You should probably stop, unless you want me to cum in my pants in like, t-two seconds,” Wade warns. His face is flushed bright red, pupils blown wide.
Logan would love to throw him over the table and really make him squirm. Instead he stops moving his hand in favor of applying light undulating pressure with his fingertips, which results in less stimulation but makes Wade whimper loudly. Chances are no one heard it over the chatter. No one but Logan. His own little personal performance.
He likes that…a lot.
“You sound so pretty,” Logan whispers, turning to him like they’re having an intimate if not completely normal conversation. “Smell good, too.”
“Stop it,” Wade shudders, but he bucks into Logan’s touch enthusiastically and doesn’t use their safeword, so Logan knows he’s still on board.
“Should’ve known you’d be into exhibitionism,” Logan chuckles. He sets his drink down, leans in and wraps his arm around Wade, pulls him in close like they’re just hugging.
Wade laughs, a beautifully breathy sound Logan wants to devour. “I’m into anything you wanna do to me, baby,” he says earnestly. “You’re so fucking hot, I… I’m gonna… uhn… c-careful,”
Logan applies pressure to the head of Wade’s cock, rubs maddeningly slow. “Want me to take you home, sugar?” He whispers into the other man’s ear, kissing the shell.
“Please,” Wade gasps.
“You gotta do two things for me first.”
“ Anything ,”
“Tell me if that guy’s looking at us or not.”
Wade’s laughter captivates him again. “Jealous bastard…Yeah, he’s looking,”
“Good. Look him in the eye when you cum.” He begins stroking Wade outright, licks at his ear and gives it a little tug with his teeth, dragging Wade’s orgasm out of him quietly.
“Nnnngh…!” The merc shakes and trembles, groans low and deep in his throat as he digs his face deeper into Logan’s shoulder. It’s beyond satisfying feeling and hearing him try to be discreet. They’re doing a pretty good job of being inconspicuous, unless you’ve been watching them the whole time.
“Go ahead and clean up in the bathroom, I’ll get an Uber,” Logan whispers into Wade’s ear once he’s stopped convulsing.
“ Nasty… dog, ” Wade mutters, lifting his head.
Logan watches Wade go, eyes flickering between him and Dipshit at the bar. The man’s cheeks are redder than the devil’s dick and he’s staring with despair into the bottom of his beer.
Good.
Triumphant, Logan books their ride home.
The trip is torture, moreso for Logan than Wade, because Wade’s a handsy little motherfucker with no respect for their driver. Logan has to swat him away several times, clamps his hand over the other man’s mouth to stop him loudly whispering dirty things into Logan’s ear. He’s sure to leave a larger tip than usual for her troubles.
“Little fucking shit,” Logan huffs without an ounce of malice, holding the door to their apartment open for Wade to enter first, because he’s a gentleman at heart
“Calm your hackles, puppy dog. She’s a shipper,” Wade argues in his defense as they cross the threshold. “Did you or did you not see her Poolverine popsocket? She’s probably tweeting about it right now.”
It’s ridiculous that Logan even knows what he’s talking about, but Wade just loves to show him fanart. “S’a stupid name.”
“Better than ‘Loganpool’ or ‘Deadclaws’, which can be very confusing for Fallout fans. ‘Deadclaws porn’ and ‘deathclaw porn’ are two very different Google search– Eep!”
Logan cuts Wade off by wrapping his arm around his waist and pulling him in close, grabbing the collar of his brightly colored shirt so he can pop open a few buttons.
“Don’t care what they call it, long as they know you’re mine ,” he growls before leaning in to kiss Wade’s neck sweetly, then sinks his fangs right in.
God, it feels good not to have to question his instincts, to know that Wade’s always right there with him.
“Ah! Ah.” A gasp, a pleased sigh. “I love you all riled up and possessive,” Wade giggles, breathless. “Don’t worry, peanut, I’m all yours,”
Logan’s chest tightens and warms at that, and his jaw flexes, tearing deeper into the warm muscle. His. It’s baseline, it’s primitive, it’s cheesy but fuck, maybe that’s what Logan is.
Wade is absolutely his, and he’s always so damn eager to prove it. “Bed,” Wade groans, rolling his hips forward to prove he’s just as desperate as Logan. “You can tear me apart in bed, baby,”
As always, Logan’s reluctant to let go once he’s taken hold, but he does so in favor of tearing Wade’s clothes off as they stumble to the bedroom and his are stripped away in return by eager hands. They’ve found this perfect balance of give and take– okay, maybe it’s not always perfect, but anything worth having in this world is worth working for, and being with Wade seldom feels like work. It’s a responsibility taken on with open arms.
Or claws.
Wade’s licking at the spaces between Logan’s knuckles, eyeing him with a little grin that would put the devil himself to shame as Logan peels away Wade’s soiled pants, slightly cold and damp where he’d tried, and failed, to clean up.
With a much softer grin, Logan twists his hand and slides his thumb past Wade’s lips. Wade sucks it in without a second thought, eyes closing as his cheeks hollow. He’s so fucking beautiful.
Logan directs him to the bed, where he lays his naked lover down with care and straddles his thighs. He leans in, kisses every inch of that gorgeous skin. Like many places of worship, the temple of Wade’s body is decorated in uneven panes of skin like stained glass. Logan runs his tongue up past Wade’s navel, follows the dip of his sternum to kiss between his pecs while he teases Wade’s overly sensitive nipples, thumbing them cruelly.
Wade’s fingers find their way into his hair. Logan closes his eyes and inhales his scent, growls deep in his throat and sinks his fangs into the thick muscle around one nipple. Wade’s thighs are hard as stone below him, textured and lovely as he grinds his cock into the little valley between them.
“God- fucking -damnit,” Wade groans, arching into him. “First he’s sweet. Then he’s sour. You’ve got the Sour Patch Kids tagline backwards, old man.”
Logan just flexes his jaws, sucks greedily at the warm gush of blood that greets him. Wade’s hands find their way to Logan’s hips, pulling him upward so he can grind their cocks together. Logan’s also forced to let go so he doesn’t tear a chunk out of his lover, though he knows Wade wouldn’t mind. Logan groans, leans all of his weight on Wade and rocks down into his thrusts.
“ Ah . Ahaha… Crush meee,” Wade’s giggle is dazed, a little breathless, probably due to the fact that he can’t quite get a full lungful of air with Logan compressing him.
Logan takes Wade’s stupid face in his hands, kisses him long and deep as he grinds against him. The slick mess between them grows as they move, the scent of their arousal mingling in Logan’s brain. Perfect. In his mind, they should always be like this; entwined and smelling of one another. Wade’s hands are on his ass, pulling him more forcefully into each movement.
When they break for air, Wade whines into Logan’s ear between breaths. “ Fuck, fuck , peanut,”
He’s tensing, trying to hold back, but he’s close. So Logan stops, sits back on his thighs and grins wickedly down at him when Wade’s whines turn pained.
“Son of a sea cucumber, what the fuck–! I was so close, you monster.”
Logan chuckles, makes no attempt to comfort him verbally. Actions speak louder than words, so he turns around to face away from his mate and shifts, straddling Wade’s chest instead. He leans down, holds Wade’s cock straight up so he can kiss the crest before barking an order over his shoulder.
“Stretch.”
Wade’s cock kicks in his grip. The other man obeys, grabs Logan by the hips to pull him an inch or two closer and bury his face between his ass cheeks. Logan grunts as Wade’s tongue slides across his hole a couple times before he narrows it to a point and begins probing, pushing inside. Logan wraps his lips around Wade’s dick, starts sucking slowly, deliberately. Wade tries to buck into his mouth, but he’s easily pinned down. Logan resists the urge to grind his cock into Wade’s chest, can feel the subtle drag of his scars when he shifts even slightly.
Wade takes a deep breath, toes curling. He spits onto Logan’s hole, works a finger into him, then a second, stretching just enough. Wade’s fingers find Logan’s sweet spot right away like they always do; Wade’s got him memorized, mapped out like he lives under Logan’s skin. Logan groans, swallows Wade’s cock down and flexes his tongue against it, licking sloppily without pulling off in the slightest.
“Fucking–shit– God, yeah, swallow me whole,”
Wade’s talented fingers falter and his erection throbs, hot and heavy on Logan’s tongue, so he lifts his head.
“Piece of shit!” Wade squeaks, thighs trembling, cock dripping with excitement and saliva.
Logan chuckles, swipes his tongue across Wade’s slit, licks him clean from root to tip…and then he sinks right back down, hollows his cheeks and sucks until Wade’s right back at the edge again, teetering.
“ I swear to God, if you keep edging me I’m gonna push you off the edge of a building. Lemme cum!” Wade demands, undercut by the whine in his voice. They both know he would never willingly separate from Logan, especially not right now.
“You ain’t cummin’ anywhere but my ass.”
Wade squirms, digs his blunt nails into Logan’s hip with one hand and twists the other, strokes Logan’s sweet spot with deadly accuracy. “Then fucking sit on it already!”
Logan’s breathing catches in his throat and he rocks back into Wade’s hand a couple times. He takes Wade back into his mouth again briefly, leaves him wet and messy this time before he sits up, wraps a hand around Wade’s wrist and pulls his fingers out. He turns back around, palming Wade’s pecs and squeezing them together so he can rut into the dip it creates.
Wade’s hands find his hips again immediately, urging him to rock faster even though he complains. His eyes are firmly fixed on Logan’s cock.
“I meant sit on my dick, not my chest, peanut– fuck, unprompted 69-ing and tittyfucking? All in one night? You’re so hot it should actually be illegal. I’d call the police, but, you know– ACAB.”
“Beg,” Loogan grunts, ignoring his babbling.
“Please?” Wade pouts, lower lip jutting out.
“ Look me in the eyes, you fucking degenerate. ‘Please’ what? ”
Wade tears his eyes away from the sticky, glistening mess Logan’s leaving on his chest to look up at him through sparse lashes, begging before the words even start to tumble from his lips.
“Please ride me, babygirl,” He reaches back to cup Logan’s cheeks in either hand, pulling them apart slightly as Logan continues to rock, rubbing his scent into Wade’s skin. “I need you bouncing and moaning on it, wanna make you squirt,”
Logan shudders, grins, scoots back down into Wade’s lap. He’d love to make Wade beg a little more, but he’s not exactly feeling patient himself. He reaches back and steadies Wade’s cock before sinking down around him deliberately, but not exactly slowly. Wade bottoms out inside him and Logan’s eyes flutter shut momentarily, muscles tensing.
“Uh oh,” Wade breathes, a dazed look in his eye.
“Looks like you're gonna squirt first,” Logan chuckles, rolling his hips down into Wade’s. “Go on, angel...”
“Nnnngh–!” Wade arches halfway, still pinned down by Logan’s weight, bucking with a handful of frantic motions that could barely be considered thrusts as he cums. It’s warm and comforting inside Logan, every twitch and pulse spreading that heat.
“ Fuck, yeah,” Logan grunts, rocking harder against him.
Wade is a squirming, trembling mess below him as Logan braces his knees wider apart and starts to slide up and down, fucking Wade through his orgasm and hopefully right into the next. He’s so easy to read, so easy to time just right . It’s effortless at this point.
“Ah– ohmygod,” Wade pants, eyes still squeezed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,”
Dripping with cum, Logan’s able to bounce with vigor, riding his mate with rough, long drags of his hips. Each slide down has Wade’s cock brushing his prostate on the way, but he prioritizes Wade’s pleasure over his own. He wants to leave Wade about as useful as a puddle of jello.
“Give it to me,” Logan growls, putting less weight on Wade so he can move. He drags his fingers across Wade’s pecs again, massages encouragingly.
Wade’s muscles tighten from head to toe, gorgeous and solid as he starts to thrust up into Logan’s welcoming body outright. Logan swears he can feel every ridge and irregularity of that textured cock, shudders at the force of his lover’s thrusts. Wade may be slightly smaller, but he’s so much stronger than he looks…
“Harder,” Logan grunts, wrapping a hand around his erection and giving himself a few rough tugs.
“Not gonna… last like this,” Wade groans in return, slamming up into Logan so hard his balls echo with a wet slap every time their bodies collide.
“Don’t wantcha to– ah, want you t’cum, Wade, make me yours,” Logan pants. It sounds suspiciously like begging.
“ Fuck, ” Wade shudders, digs his nails into Logan’s thighs and tries to pull him down harder. Logan’s sure he hears bones cracking, but Wade doesn’t slow. “ Yeah, g-gonna make you mine, baby, you’re so pretty, gonna fill you up so– unhh! ”
Logan’s plan was to work at least two more orgasms out of Wade, but he’s just so fucking gorgeous, brainless and fucked out and literally broken, but still begging Logan for more. Logan feels himself slipping over the edge as Wade’s second climax crashes over him and his hips are stuttering, pressing as deep as he can into Logan and grinding. Logan tries to pinch his off by wrapping a hand around the base of his dick and squeezing, but that just feels too good, Wade feels too good, sounds so goddamn lovely and Logan’s starting to convulse anyway.
He hurriedly changes tactic, strokes himself from root to tip with a sturdy grip until he shoots his load across Wade’s chest and face with a guttural moan. Wade tilts his head back and into the pillow, whimpering as Logan clenches down around him, rocking lazily through the aftershocks of his orgasm until both their movements slow to a stop.
Wade is a pretty little spaced out thing, staring up into nothing, chest heaving, glistening with sweat and cum. Logan’s always thought he could spend the rest of his life with this man. Moments like this make him certain of it. Logan leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Wade’s parted lips. Wade turns the gesture filthy, swipes his thumb across some of Logan’s seed on his own cheek and slides it into Logan’s mouth. Logan chuckles around the digit, sucks it clean as he stares into those hazy blue eyes.
He wants to propose right then and there. But Wade’s barely present, indeed nothing more than a puddle of jello. Logan rests against his lover for a moment before getting off his lap, and landing next to him in the sheets with a soft thump. The bed dips with the shift of his weight, and Wade rolls over to embrace him immediately, sticky and wet but Logan doesn’t give a good goddamn. They can always clean up later. Right now, they absolutely reek of each other, and that’s fucking beautiful. Feels safe and wonderful and right.
“Fuck,” Wade mumbles eventually. “You shattered my pelvis again. Days since last workplace incident: zero.” his tone is nothing short of delighted.
Logan just chuckles, traces the patterns in his scars, paying special attention to those that form subtle rings as he daydreams about slipping one on Wade’s finger.