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It starts the morning after the dinner party. After all of Wade’s friends had left and Laura had hugged him and written her phone number on his arm, Logan had collapsed in exhaustion. The pull out mattress on Wade’s trundle bed (unsurprisingly, that isn’t the most embarrassing thing in the merc’s room) wasn’t as terrible as the man had feared. In fact, he’d slept so well that somehow Logan woke up at a decent time.
Usually, back in his universe, Logan wasn’t a morning person. Actually, he wasn’t an afternoon person either- preferring to rise with the bars and not the sun. So for the man to wake up even at noon, is a surprise itself. The bigger surprise, however, was what he found waiting for him by the time he dragged himself out the room.
Groggily wiping the sleep from his eyes as he walks heavy footed into the living area, he nearly trips before stopping just in the entry. The first thing he notices is the pancakes, and then Althea (I’m not calling her Blind Al, Wade) who is seated at the table with a stack that could put even Logan to shame.
However what really causes him to stop short, standing completely still in the light of the windows with his borrowed mickey mouse pajama pants and shirt that proudly reads ‘I eat drywall’, is the sight of Wade.
Sans costume, the mercenary sits in a worn but comfy looking chair beneath the open windows. He’s wearing pink flannel pants and what Logan almost swears is a cardigan, a book spread open in his lap and a mug of something on his knee. Looking back, Logan thinks this is probably when it started.
Seeing the man, previously an ADHD riddled chatterbox with no end in sight, curled in a chair with a book looking disturbingly domestic seemed to change something in the other man. Like a piece of him cracked and spread apart, leaving a certain shaped hole in its wake. (now, of course, he knows what that shape was)
Noticing the man standing there, Wade looks up and smiles in a soft way that Logan thinks he shouldn’t be capable of. “Hey, Peanut,” He starts, reaching up to scratch his jaw. “There’s pancakes if you like them, not sure if they’re actually considered pancakes since I didn’t have a recipe and we’re out of milk and eggs. In fact, they might be closer to overcooked oatmeal in texture, which makes sense because that’s what they’re made out of.” Logan’s glad that some things, like the man's continuous ramblings, don’t change.
He grunts once in response, entering the kitchen and picking a ‘pancake’ up before immediately eating it in two bites. When he refaces his roommate, Wade is smiling at him in that same soft way that makes Logan feel exposed. “S’good.” he mumbles, swallowing thickly.
Wade doesn’t respond, eyes twinkling as his focus returns to his book. Logan eats the rest of the pancakes completely dry before walking into the living room and falling heavily onto the couch. He waits, somewhat tense, for Wade to start talking and maybe present a ridiculous idea to get them both into trouble.
Instead, the room remains silent until Althea turns the tv on, and Logan ends up watching five hours of the price is right reruns.
It continues when Logan finds out that Wade is good at shopping. You wouldn’t think there’d be a grading to something like that, but there is- even a dysfunctioning alcoholic can recognize the skill of grocery shopping.
Three days of living together, three quiet breakfasts, and three soft mornings later Wade says; “We’re going grocery shopping.” Logan growls in protest, because of course he does, yet somehow still ends up in front of Walmart for the first time in probably ten years. Probably longer- days tend to blur when you can’t die. (but not his days with Wade, funnily enough.)
“Okay,” Wade claps his hands. “So we start in the front, I’m driving the cart because my skills are unmatched, we work our way along the side to the back and then to the front by going down every aisle. And yes, every aisle is crucial- mostly because I didn’t make a list. But don’t worry sweetums, I won’t forget the baby oil. Oh and remember we have to make a run for it, I didn’t bring my wallet.” It takes Logan longer than he’d like to admit to process all of his words, staring at Wade’s masked face unblinking.
“Why didn’t you bring money?” He asks, eyebrow raised at the costumed man. They definitely make an odd pair, Logan in his too tight t shirt and pajama pants while Wade is covered head to toe in red spandex.
“Ruins the lines in my suit, peanut.” He runs his hands down his sides in emphasis, and Logan can practically hear the man grinning beneath the mask. Having no response, the gruff man simply grunted, turning back to the store and moving towards the front door.
Somehow, the looming building seemed suddenly daunting. As if fighting a witch and nearly dying was the easy part, and rejoining society was the hard. “This is surreal. Going grocery shopping in my Walmart shoes with the Wolverine. Fantasies do come true- well the PG ones do at least. The author hasn’t decided if we’re going R rated.” Wade’s Walmart shoes were a pair of rainbow crocs and unicorn socks. Logan decides to ignore the rest of his statement.
In a really fucked up and totally sad way, Logan can’t help but be thankful for Wade’s chatter. It’s easy to ignore the feeling of eyes on him when he’s spending most of the shopping trip telling the man to shut up. The entire event is, well, uneventful. They spend most of the time with the Merc debating on whether to get something, asking for Logan’s insight only to receive a noncommittal grunt, before Wade puts it in the cart anyways.
“Hey, Sweetums?” Wade calls while Logan’s stuck staring at a box of ‘Oreo-o’s’ wondering why the hell anyone would be interested in something so disgusting.
“Yeah?” He asks distractedly, grabbing the box with a low growl and glancing around to make sure no one saw him.
“I forgot to get sauce for the pasta, can you go back to the other aisle and grab it?” He looks over at Wade, the box in hand, and nods without really another thought. Logan’s quick to toss the cereal in, ignoring his companions' gasp of interest, before heading back an aisle.
He quickly finds the sauce, passing an older woman with a hushed ‘excuse me’ and promptly realizes his mistake. There are what seems to be a hundred brands of sauce, and Logan realizes he has no idea what kind Wade likes.
“Are you okay, darlin’?” The woman beside him asks, seeming to notice his look of confusion. He turns to her, frowning and struggling with words for a moment.
“I don’t know what kind of sauce Wade likes.” Logan knows this woman has no idea who Wade is, but doesn’t feel like explaining. The woman’s eyes crinkle in the corner when she smiles, reaching out to pluck a jar off the shelf and hold it out to him.
“Here, sweetheart,” Logan reaches out tentatively to take it, brow furrowed as he holds it at his side. “It’s garlic and herb, I’m sure your boyfriend will like it.” She smiles even wider when Logan scowls.
“He’s not my-”
“Hey, Peanut, did you find it?” Logan flinches, turning to look at the man suddenly pressed against his entire side. Slowly turning his head to look at the woman, an expression of abject horror crosses his face at the knowing smile there.
“I-we’re not- I’m not-” The sentence ends on a growl and a scowl, yet Logan doesn’t feel the urge to shove Wade away and declare that no , he isn’t dating his roommate.
“Good luck with that.” With a wink she’s gone, and Logan finds some fucked up smugness in the fact that she’s old enough to hobble down the aisle.
“Can we go?” he asks when she’s disappeared, all too aware of the man pressed completely against his arm in a way that feels terrifyingly comfortable. And Logan thinks that he’s allowed to find comfort in the contact, not because it’s Wade but because it’s human and he’s been alone long enough to have forgotten the warmth of a goddamn hug. (he’s not admitting that one out loud, some things are too embarrassingly sad to say.)
“Of course, Peanut, I already found the baby oil.”
It’s another thing entirely when they’re alone. Not at night, since Logan has a hard time falling asleep unless he’s completely tired. Which means a lot of the time is spent awake, which is almost as bad as the nightmare because let’s be fucking honest his head is a nightmare all on it’s own.
No, it’s when Althea is at work. Or the two of them decide to take their frustrations and pent up energy out on anyone dumb enough to be a criminal in their neighborhood. Those times are the worst. Mostly because Logan has a hard time reminding himself why he shouldn’t just push Wade against the brick, or into the couch and just kiss him senseless.
Instead, he bites his cheek and grunts in response to Wade’s unanswerable questions. ( why do dogs not have thumbs on their back paws? Technically all four paws are feet and it’s not like their thumbs are opposable anyways. ) But that doesn’t make it easy.
Not when Wade’s sitting on the couch, flannel clad legs splayed out and shirt missing. He’s got a lazy look of relaxation on his face that makes Logan want to lick his scars. And it’s fucked up, because maybe when he first met the man and saw him without the mask he thought he looked disgusting. But that was before he realized Wades fucked up nasty matched his own fucked up nasty and now most of the time he just wants to lick Wade’s face and see how long it takes his hickies to fade.
“Something on my face?” Wade’s looking at him, Logan realizes belatedly. His face is illuminated by the soft glow of the tv, casting a blue haze over and around him that fucks with Logan’s vision.
“What?” He asks dumbly, licking his lips. Wade’s grin widens, a lazy thing that does something indescribable to Logan’s gut. He tries not to remember the Honda, Wade splayed out in the back seats.
“You’re staring, babe.” At the nickname something hot uncurls low in his gut, and he struggles to remain impassive as he forces both eyes back to the Price is Right before grunting out a response.
“Oh.”
Logan thinks about moving out. Well, to be fair it's always been the plan. Logan thought he’d stay with Wade just until he found a Job then he’d find his own place. But one week turned into four, which turned into a couple months. And now they have a routine, and he’s almost afraid of breaking it. Like it would pop their bubble and shatter his world in the same way it did at the first breakfast with those oatmeal pancakes. (Wade’s pancakes are perfectly normal now, Logan eats about five a day.)
Logan does get a job, since Wade’s gone ‘pro bono’ with his merc for hire gig. Now he spends most of his time helping people escape their abusers and saving people from muggings. “Just consider me your friendly neighborhood pool boy,” He’d said when Logan had asked about rent.
So Logan gets a job, to keep the lights on and to save them from Althea who has threatened them with great bodily harm. (He wouldn’t be surprised if she roofied their pancakes. She’s a vicious old lady.) The job is mindless manual labor that keeps Logan well worn and fit, but he realizes with sudden clarity one day that he and Wade might be dating.
The thought doesn’t keep him up at night. (well not for long, it did the first night he realized it until Wade crawled into his bed and wrapped around him like a demented squid. He fell asleep pretty fast after that.)
“Well hello there, gorgeous!” Logan’s tired, but more in a satiated way than in an exhaustion way when he finally gets home. Wade’s in the kitchen and he thinks Madonna might be playing softly from their Alexa but he’s too distracted by his roommate to properly notice. Wade’s wearing a dress. “Spaghetti or Mac and Cheese?” The man asks, dancing along to the music as Logan drops his lunch box on the counter.
“Spaghetti.” He grunts in response. Wade’s wearing a dress. It’s what could probably be considered a ‘sundress’, a red number that fans out at his waist and ties in the back with black lace along the neckline. Wades wearing a dress.
“Spaghetti it is! I should warn you, I put the meat in the sink and totally forgot about it.” Wade laughs before spinning around the kitchen to face the stove, and Logans moving without conscious thought. “So we might get really fucking sick from this delicious ass Spaghetti I’m- Hello!” Wade jumps when Logan touches him, hands finding his waist as he stands behind the slightly shorter man. “Well, hello Peanut, are we finally getting to first base?”
Logan grunts, nose pressing to the side of Wade’s neck before inhaling. “You’re wearing a dress.” He states dumbly, words closer to an indecipherable growl.
“That I am- thought I'd lean into the housewife vibe the author is going for.” Logan can’t bring himself to pull away from Wade, strangely enough. If only to save himself from the sight of the other man in a dress, He stayed pressed against him. “Is there a reason you're doing your best impression of a dog on my neck?”
“No.” Logan grumbles, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks and he stays inhaling Wade’s scent. Wade hums, not seeming to mind the distraction as he stirs his sauce. (Garlic and herbs) His other hand reaches back to run through Logan’s hair, making the man let out a long drawn out growl.
“Are you purring?” Wade asks, mirth in his voice. “Because that’s adorable as fuck, Peanut.” Logan grumbles, pulling away but not before darting his tongue out to taste the side of Wade’s neck. Ignoring the man’s shiver, he pulls fully away and turns before disappearing from the room to change into pajamas.
Looking back, nothing really changed. There wasn’t some big climactic moment of realization from Logan, where he professes his love and vows to never hurt him. No, it happened on a Tuesday at seven PM. Althea was on a girls trip with Domino and Dopinder, which is good for her considering what comes next.
“These girls are total idiots. They should just kill all the men in their sleep and form an amazonian group of total badasses and win the competition.” Wade’s curled up on the couch, arm pressed to Logan’s as he shouts at the tv. Logan has no idea what he’s talking about, mostly because he has no idea what’s happening in the show, mostly because he’s been staring at Wade long enough to be considered creepy.
“Seriously, those chicks would all be a lot happier flicking eachother’s beans without those egotistical man children getting in the way.” Logan watches the way his face animates as he quips, pouting at the show like it’s personally offended him. Maybe it’s the way the two of them barely share an inch of space, or the warmth of the apartment. Most likely it’s how disgustingly beautiful Logan thinks Wade is right now, scars or not. (he does still want to lick them, more than he did two weeks ago.) But Logan’s only thought is how the other man’s lips would feel beneath his, what sounds he’d make beneath him.
He’s moving then, brain lagging sluggishly behind as his hand reaches out to grasp Wades chin. He tilts Wade’s face towards his, watching the way the man’s mouth parts in a soft inhale probably preparing to ask a thousand questions. Logan beats him to it, leaning over and pressing their lips together harsher than he probably intended.
The warmth of his lips makes Logan suddenly realize how cold his were before, and he can’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, he tips Wade’s head back, deepening the kiss and pushing into his mouth with little resistance. Logan explores, letting out a growl as he tries to memorize the entirety of Wade’s mouth until he knows it better than his own.
Wade moans into the kiss, hands coming up to fist his shirt in a tight grasp as he tugs at Logan. Hastily, the bigger man follows, letting the Merc drag him down until he’s laying on top of Wade between his legs. The kiss doesn’t cease, barely inhaling through their noses as Logan kisses the man’s lips numb, uncaring of how messy he is as his hands move down to push up his shirt.
His hands grasp Wade’s bare hips in a bruising grips, bruises he know will appear and fade just as quickly, yet desperate to leave nonetheless. Wade’s moans are like their own brand of torture, filling the room and surrounding Logan until he thinks he could listen to the sound forever.
Logan finally releases his lips, not stopping before trailing kisses over his jaw, working in hickies as he goes. “Fuck, Peanut, I fucking knew you’d kiss as vicious as you fight.” Wade grabs handfuls of Logan's hair, pulling hard enough to entice a groan from the man as he lavishes the Merc’s neck with his tongue and lips. Wade tilts his head back, moaning and arching up into the body over his making his partner growl. “God every time you growl after this I’m going to cum in my pants.”
Logan doesn’t speak, drawing away onto his knees and ignoring the protests from the Merc, chest heaving as he stares down at him. Wade looks entirely fucked out, lips swollen from kisses and bruises sucked into his neck. Even as they fade Logan wants to make more, wondering how much he’d have to hurt the other man before they’d stay longer than a few moments. Judging by how much the Merc enjoys their fights, Logan knows Wade would enjoy that more.
He reaches down, gripping the ‘lactose intolerant’ shirt covered in Thomas the Train images, before ripping the shirt entirely from his body. “Oh fuckity fuck that was hot. If you don’t get down here and fuck me I’m going to go ‘Misery Chastain’ on your ass.” Logan grins, eyes looking over the other man’s newly exposed flesh before shuffling down the couch.
When he lays back down, his head is closer to Wade’s naval, and he doesn’t waste time before laying his tongue flat against the man’s flesh. “You’re so fucking weird.” Wade giggles when Logan starts to lick, seemingly intent on running his tongue over every inch of the Merc’s skin. He takes his time, long enough that Wade starts arching up as if begging with just his body. His mouth, however, spends most of its time telling Logan how great his tongue is.
Finally, the man scoots lower, hands grasping the waistband of Wade’s pants before dragging them down. The prone man lifts his hips to help, and Logan knows he’s staring when Wade’s cock is finally exposed. “I know, it’s gorgeous- care to get a move on?” Glancing up, Logan finds his partner is looking at him with an impatient expression but with an air of insecurity. Grinning wolfishly, Logan licks a stripe up the side of his dick, pleased at the long drawn out groan the action incites.
“Beautiful.” He all but growls, wasting no time before closing his mouth around the head of Wade’s cock to lap at the precum slowly building there. The taste and smell of Wade practically surrounding him is enough to make the man groan, sucking at the slit and making the Merc shout out above him.
Grinning around his mouthful, Logan listens to Wade professing love to his mouth as he tries to arch up into it. Logan pulls off long enough to glare up at the loud man, before throwing a forearm across his hips and pressing him into the couch. “Stay still,” He commands in a gravely tone. The words do the opposite of their intent, making Wade arch against his hold and nearly whimper.
“Don’t you dare stop.” He gasps when Logan returns to his task, taking his time exploring every single part of Wade. In no rush, Logan spends most of his time licking up the precum slowly leaking from his slit and mouthing at the vein on the underside of his dick. Above him, Wade curses and fidgets, thighs around Logan's head as he tries to draw the man closer.
Perfectly content between Wade’s thighs, Logan only pulls away when Wade’s pleads turn into a string of ‘please, please, please’. With another growl (which causes Wade to full body shiver) Logan sheds his sweatpants, kicking them off and batting his partner’s hand away from his cock.
“Wait.” His growled command is barely heeded, Wade twisting beneath him and trying to get closer. Logan grabs each of Wade’s ankles, pulling his legs up and together before rising onto his knees and letting Wade’s heels rest against one shoulder. “Thighs together, Wade.” The man shivers at the sound of his name, nodding wordlessly and following instruction.
Logan presses forward, slotting his cock between the other man’s thighs, rubbing against his balls and the underside of his shaft as he does so. The heat of his thighs makes him groan, licking his lips before pulling out and fucking back in. “Holy fucking shit that’s hot.” Wade gasps as he looks down, staring at where Logan fucks slowly into his thighs, cock rubbing at his balls.
Logan picks up the pace, growling as he leans forward to nearly bring Wade’s knees to his chest as he really fucks into the warm space of his thighs. He moans like he’s truly being fucked, head thrown back and eyes shut while Logan stares hungrily at his neck. He wants to suck more bruises into the man’s skin, but since the angle won’t allow it he settles for digging his fingers into Wade’s hips as he pushes him further into the couch with every thrust.
Wade meets him at every stroke, the sound of skin slapping skin and moans filling the room. “C’mon Wolvey, c’mon.” Wade eggs him on, reaching out to grab a fistful of hair and yanking, digging his nails into his scalp. “Cover me in it, C’mon.” It’s not long before Logan's orgasm hits, thrusting in a final time before painting Wade’s stomach and thighs with his release.
Snarling, he doesn’t wait even a second before yanking Wade’s legs apart and lowering his face to the mess. This time, he sucks Wade down to the root, like a man starved. Wade cries out, arching off the couch as Logan does his best to yank the orgasm right out of him. He pulls off after a moment of torture, kissing down the underside of his shaft before reaching around the back of his thighs.
Logan pulls Wade’s legs up, pushing them to his chest before burying his face right where he’d wanted to since they started this. Wade just about comes off the bed as he cries out, gasping at the sensation of Logan’s tongue lapping at his rim. He wraps his hands in Logan’s hair between his thighs, moaning loud enough that the entire block is probably getting front row tickets to the show.
“Logan I’m gonna-” He chokes out the words, sentence ending on a groan as his orgasm hits. He rides Logan’s tongue through it, gasping and panting as his thighs shake around the other man’s head. He doesn’t stop licking at Wade’s rim until the Merc whines with overstimulation, pulling away and letting his legs fall to the couch boneless.
Logan stares down at Wade, drinking in the sight of him laying splayed out and thoroughly fucked, a lazy smile on his face. “Holy Marvel Jesus, we should have been doing that the moment we met.” Logan can’t help but return the smile, humming his agreement as he grabs the tattered remains of Wade’s shirt to quickly clean the two of them up.
“Bed.” Logan huffs, standing up and trying to pretend his legs are shaky as he reaches for Wade.
“Glad to see the orgasm didn’t improve your sentence forming ability, Peanut.” Wade takes his hand, letting him be pulled to his feet. “And ‘bed’ does sound like a grand fucking idea.” Wade wraps himself around Logan as they shuffle to the bedroom, the latter does not push away the former.
Wordlessly they enter the room and fall on the bed, Wade settling against Logan with a yawn. “We gotta do that again.” he says sleepily.
Logan wants to say a lot of things. Like how glad he is that they didn’t die saving the timeline. How he’ll probably follow Wade anywhere the man decides to go. Or that he’s undoubtedly happy Wade decided to choose the worst Wolverine to help him save his world. Logan thinks that those words still don’t come close to the mess of emotions all tangled in his chest, so instead he says; “Yeah.” and promptly falls asleep beside a snoring Deadpool.
Logan thinks that Wade is the worst roommate possible, mostly because people who are ‘just roommates’ don’t usually have homoerotic subtext that leads to gay sex. It’s definitely not casual.
The End.