Chapter Text
Wade Wilson was a hard man to read. The constant flirting, the sex jokes and the lingering touches he dished out as if they were going out of fashion should all have pointed to the obvious- an enormous neon sign that flashed HE’S ATTRACTED TO YOU, LOGAN!
With any other person they would have, anyway.
See, Logan was sure that Wade didn’t want him. He was familiar with the smell of arousal, of attraction. That sharp, almost metallic tang that clung to the roof of his mouth, subduing his other senses. He’d smelt in it divebars and stripclubs, during flings and one-night stands, but never from Wade Wilson.
Wade always smelt the same- blood and salt and the sickly-sweet Hello Kitty bodywash he insisted on using. To anyone else with his sensitivities it would be difficult to bear, but Logan found it almost comforting. Not that he would ever tell Wade that, of course. He couldn't.
Logan knew that Wade didn’t want him, and yet late at night, when Wade’s arm was splayed out over Logan’s chest and his leg was tucked up over his own, as the bed that Wade had insisted they share creaked under their combined weight, Logan was so sure he did.
And then morning would come, and Wade would mumble something that would be incomprehensible to most but that Logan would almost always understand, and he would crawl out of bed to make Wade breakfast, or coffee, or whatever else he’d asked for. And Wade would stretch and join him in the kitchen, flashing that infectious smile of his, and call Logan sugartits or cutiepie or babygirl, or something else on Wade’s ridiculously long laundry list of nicknames for him. And Logan would be positive that Wade had feelings for him.
But he didn’t.
Logan would be able to tell.
And so Logan had written his own list, a list of boundaries.
A list he had to stick to, for preservation’s sake.
Logan had realised that he needed the list on his first morning in the apartment- he woke up to Wade’s half-hard dick pressed against his ass and realised he was not going to be able to last very long as just Wade’s friend if that became part of his morning routine. He’d grabbed one of the pillows from under the sleeping Wade’s head and forced it between them, pushing him away as far as he could without rolling him onto the floor.
It had been a good idea, it seemed, as almost three months had now passed and the pillow barrier down the middle of the bed was now a permanent part of their sleeping arrangement.
They had decided on other boundaries- or Logan had, at least. Privacy was one of them- Logan had installed a lock on the bathroom door on his second day living with him. Wade had complained, of course. He’d thrown a strop, rolling his eyes and leaning against the now-secure door as Logan drilled the final screw into place.
‘It just doesn't match with the decor.’ He’d sulked.
‘What decor?’ Logan snorted. ‘The crackhouse theme you had going?’
‘What about Blind Al,’ he continued, ‘she might get trapped in there by accident and starve to death.’
'Don't call her that.' He doubted Wade would ever break the habit, but Logan was not going to refer to his new landlady as Blind Al. Ever.
'Oh, hush. It's her legal name. And her legal right to not want a lock on the bathroom door.'
‘You shut your freak-ass up!’ Al yelled from the living room. ‘If you walk in on me having a piss one more time I’ll kill you.’
‘Oh, Al,’ Wade mock-sighed, ‘you shouldn’t be ashamed. Sometimes when we get older, our bodies-’
‘You put that lock up, Logan.’ She hollered. ‘You should probably put one on the shower curtain too for good measure, that man is a sex pest.’
‘You can’t say shit like that anymore Al,’ Wade shouted back, ‘It’s offensive!’
‘What, to sex pests? Well then boo fucking hoo to little old you.’
'Boo hoo to me?? No, boo hoo for you!' Wade stormed back into the living room to continue the argument whilst Logan finished securing the lock. He could still hear them through the thin bathroom door.
‘How do you expect me to jump Logan’s bones when I can’t even pretend to stumble in on him showering?!?’ Wade complained loudly.
Logan rolled his eyes. He knew Wade was just trying to get a rise out of him.
‘Cry about it.’ Al said.
Logan heard the shitty floorboards creak as she stood up to leave. He’d have to fix those, too, he thought. Make himself useful.
‘What do you want me to do then,’ Wade shot back, ‘go sit in the horny corner for a timeout?’
‘Every corner is a horny corner when I live with you two freaks.’
Logan, though annoyed (and, yes, a little hurt) that Al had essentially referred to him as a horny freak, pretended not to have heard the argument.
Wade never used the lock, of course. But still. Logan always did, and so did Al. In any case, it was the idea of privacy that counted, as much privacy as they could get in the shoebox of an apartment the two of them shared with the clingiest, least spatially-aware man in the world.
So yes.
Privacy.
Boundaries.
They were roommates, yes. Friends, even. And Logan was determined to leave it that way, to leave it the way Wade wanted it. To not let it get complicated.
Because complicated never worked out, at least not in his experience.
And Logan really, really couldn’t bear to lose another friend.
So he stuck to his boundaries: to his privacy, to avoiding Wade’s touch as much as he could, to never returning Wade’s flirting, and to point-blank refusing to get involved with the dog. Wade treated that thing like a daughter, like he’d birthed her himself- he’d graphically described the process on several occasions- and Logan had a track record of getting too involved with kids. He had a soft spot for them.
Fine.
He had a soft spot for the dog, too.
The dog-related boundary in particular had been getting harder and harder not to cross. Especially when at that very moment, Wade was dangling her leash in front of his face.
‘Walkies?’ He said hopefully, as if he were taking Logan out and not Mary Puppins.
Logan stared at it for a moment, contemplating. It wasn’t as if he would be the one walking the dog, after all. Wade would be walking the dog and Logan would…also be there. As a friend.
So he agreed.
As a friend.
They barely got fifty feet away from the apartment complex before Mary Puppins stopped to cock her leg.
Logan raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s a girl dog, right?’ He checked.
‘My little bitch, yes.’ Wade said sweetly, blowing a kiss down to her.
‘Then she even pisses wrong.’ Logan noted.
‘Breaking gender norms just like her papa.’ Wade proclaimed. ‘I’m so proud of you, my little chicken nugget.’ Wade opened the bag in his coat pocket and fed her a treat. ‘Good girl, Miss Puppins!’
‘She’s just fucking weird.’
Wade prodded him in the stomach with the pack of dog treats. ‘Ignore him, my precious baby princess. Both your papas love you very much.’
Logan grunted. She was not his dog.
As they stood waiting for Mary Puppins to finish sniffing the spot she’d just pissed on, Logan glanced across to Wade, noticing he’d zipped his coat up to his chin and pulled the hood down over the top of his head. His face was mostly obscured by the shadow of the fabric, but Logan could still make out some of the scarring on his face.
Logan wondered briefly what a particular gash on his right cheek would feel like, if it had the same rough texture to it that he had felt on the occasions that Wade’s arms would snake over the divider on their bed and around his waist, pulling his chest flush with Logan’s back.
Wade noticed him staring and grimaced. Logan quickly looked away. He started to open his mouth to apologise, but thought better of it, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable.
Wade had turned his focus back to the dog, anyway. ‘Ah, shit.’ He was saying, pulling a face. ‘Did you bring any poo bags?’
‘Why would I bring poo bags?’ Logan huffed. Then, to voice his earlier thought, ‘She’s not my dog.’
‘Well, it’s not my shit,’ Wade gestured at the mess Mary Puppins had just made, ‘but I’m still going to pick it up.’
Wade linked one arm through Logan’s, his eyes pleading. ‘Would you go back to the apartment and get some for me?’
Logan stared down at him, feeling the warm press of Wade’s body against his. He could feel the words of course, whatever you need forming in his throat, but bit them back with a shake of his head. They needed boundaries. And Logan agreeing to anything Wade asked him, every little whim and want, crossed too many of them to count.
He shook Wade off.
‘Do it yourself. You’re the one that forgot to bring bags.’
‘So did you.’ Wade said pointedly.
‘Again, not my dog. So not my job.’
Wade looked hurt for a moment, his grip loosening on Mary Puppins’ leash and his shoulders sagging inwards slightly. Logan instantly regretted what he’d said, but before he could take it back Wade’s smile had already come back, his posture straightening as if nothing had happened.
‘Alright, fine.’ Wade dug through his pockets until he found some loose change. He held out a nickel. ‘We can flip for it.’
‘Fine.’ Logan grumbled, adjusting his concerned expression back to one of indifference.
‘Heads I stay with Mary Puppins and you get the bags, tails you stay with her and I go.’
It landed on tails.
‘Ah well.’ He picked the dog up and dropped her into Logan’s arms. ‘Back in a sec!’ Wade shouted over his shoulder, already a few steps away before Logan had time to say something smug about winning the coin-toss.
Actually, Logan realised after a moment that he didn’t know whether to be smug or not. After all, it left him alone on the street corner holding the rattiest dog in the world and standing next to a steaming pile of her shit.
Maybe he should’ve offered to go back to the apartment.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Wade bounded up the stairs two at a time, trying to swallow down the awful feeling that prickled in his throat. He’d thought that maybe Logan was finally getting to like him. To understand him on some level.
But Wade’s stupid fucking skin had to go and ruin everything.
Wade reached the apartment door, slamming it closed behind with his full body weight. He lent against it in defeat, his eyes drifting to the old photo of him and Vanessa that was taped to the fridge. The old Wade stared back at him: pre-mutation Wade. He looked happy and carefree and stupidly fucking handsome, his arms wrapped around Vanessa.
He remembered how Logan had looked at him down on the street only minutes before, the disgust on his face. He felt like he was going to cry.
He tore his eyes away from the photograph, trying to think about something else, anything else.
His thoughts drifted immediately to Logan.
Logan.
He thought about Logan’s dry wit and his ridiculous haircut, the stupidly loud snoring that Wade could never interrupt no matter how far he rolled him onto his side.
He thought about Logan’s huff of a laugh, and his chest, and the cutesy way he scratched behind the back of his neck when he was tired.
He thought about his chest again just as a treat.
He thought about Logan's insanely toned body, the way the muscles in his arm moved as he reached for something, the way the tiny towels Wade had bought specially for him clung to his thighs after he’d had a shower.
‘Fuck, he’s hot.’ Wade whispered to himself. He didn’t expect Logan to be attracted to him. Not by any means. He just didn’t want him to be repulsed everytime he took his mask off.
Wade groaned when he realised his thoughts had circled right back to where he’d started, cursing himself.
He looked down at his hands. They were cracked and peeling, the scars along each finger glaring back up at him.
‘Fuck off.’ He hissed.
You’re fucking ugly the scars taunted back Logan doesn’t want you.
‘He doesn't want you,’ Wade retorted. ‘He’d want me just fine if I still looked like that.’ He pointed a thumb to the photograph of his stupid handsome face. He didn’t believe what he had said- he doubted Logan would want him no matter what he looked like- but his scars didn’t need to know that.
It’s not just the scars he can see, the thumb laughed back, he’d hate the other ones too. The invisible ones.
‘Yeah, well.’ Wade grabbed a pair of mittens from the box Al kept beside the sofa. ‘I guess we’ll never know.’
He pulled the gloves on, ignoring how itchy the fabric felt against the scars on his palms.
It didn’t matter, he decided. As long as they weren’t visible.
As long as Logan didn’t have to think about them.
Wade shook his head, taking a moment to compose himself. He braced his shoulders and plastered a fake smile onto his face.
He was fine.
Really.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Logan stood awkwardly on the pavement with one hand stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other gripping Mary Puppins as she tried and failed to wriggle out from under his arm.
‘Not a chance.’ He told her. ‘Not until he gets back again.’
She whined feebly, straining to be put down on the floor. Logan held her tighter. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder just to make sure Wade hadn’t seen him talking to the dog. He hadn’t. Wade had just reached their building as Logan turned to look, door swinging closed behind him.
An elderly lady stopped and stared at him from the other side of the street. Logan recognised her immediately but wasn’t sure why. She looked thin and frail, her hair almost white with age. Logan narrowed his eyes, trying to place her.
The woman crossed the street, still staring directly at him. Logan shifted uncomfortably, Mary Puppins’ nails digging into the side of his bicep as he did so. The woman walked purposely towards him. He could sense an agitation coming from her, and he automatically prepared for the worst. He flexed the hand in his pocket, ready to use his claws if need be. He didn’t want a fight in a place so crowded during broad daylight, but if it came to it-
Logan’s train of thought came to a halt as he realised the woman was walking hand-in-hand with a young girl, presumably her granddaughter. The girl scuffed her sneakers along the pavement in front of her, looking nervous.
‘Can I pet your dog?’ The girl asked when she reached him, her eyes wide and pleading.
‘Sure.’ Logan nodded, incredibly glad he had kept his claws hidden. As usual, his paranoia had been working overtime.
The girl squealed in delight as Logan lowered the dog to her height. She carefully patted the straggly hairs on her head, smoothing them down.
‘She’s so cuuuute’, the girl cooed, ‘What’s her name?’
Logan considered lying for a moment, anything to avoid having to say ‘Mary Puppins’ out loud, but he didn't have the heart to. Besides, if Wade came back whilst the girl was still there he was bound to get upset if he knew Logan was embarrassed by his precious baby princess’ name.
‘Mary Puppins.’ Logan admitted.
‘Mary Puppins.’ The girl repeated, still stroking her patchy fur.
Logan looked down the street for Wade. There was still no sign of him. He was sure he’d gotten distracted and forgotten what he was looking for, or maybe he’d somehow set fire to all the poo bags in the apartment and was currently Frankensteining one together out of sticky tape and takeout wrappers or something.
The little girl was scratching Mary Puppins under the chin now, giggling when she received a few quick licks to the side of her face.
The grandmother checked her watch and frowned. ‘Come on, missy, or you’ll be late to school.’
‘But-’
‘I’m sure you’ll see the dog again, sweetie.’
Logan stood there silently for a moment before realising the elderly woman was looking at him, expecting him to chime in.
‘Uh, yeah,’ He cleared his throat. ‘We live just around the block, actually.’
‘Oh my gosh so do we!’ The girl gasped, pointing to Logan and Wade’s building. ‘In that one there!’
Ah. So that was why he’d recognised the woman.
‘Well,’ Logan said, unable to stop himself from smiling at least a little, ‘so do we. Don’t worry, you’ll definitely see her again.’
The girl squealed excitedly, giving the dog one final pat.
‘Say goodbye now.’ Her grandmother urged, checking her watch again.
‘Bye, Mary Puppins!’ The girl waved, grabbing her backpack and skipping off a few steps in front of her grandmother. ‘See you soon!’
Logan waved back for a moment, stopping when he heard the sound of familiar footsteps. ‘How fucking long does it take to walk up a few flights of stairs.’ He grumbled, turning when Wade was close enough to identify by scent.
‘Awww, pookums. You missed me!’
Logan immediately noticed that Wade had put a baseball cap on underneath the hood of his coat, presumably an attempt to further obscure his face. His hands, too, were now covered with a pair of mittens. Logan didn’t mention it.
Now wasn’t the time.
Instead, he rolled his eyes, easing back into the friendly banter that seemed to delight Wade so much. ‘Yeah? Well, I guess I’d rather spend as little time as possible standing next to an enormous shit whilst holding a dog that possibly smells even worse.’
‘You’re so cruel to her.’ Wade sighed, clasping his hands over his chest. He bent down slightly and gave Mary Puppins a disgustingly loud kiss on the head. ‘Daddy loves you really. Yes, he does!’
Logan just sighed, handing the dog back to him.
Wade held out a roll of poo bags in return. ‘Swap you?’
Logan snorted. ‘I’m not picking up your dog’s shit, Wade.’
‘Our dog’s shit.’ Wade reminded him.
‘Yes. Yes, she is.’
‘Oh my god did you just make a joke!?!’
Wade giggled at Logan, who struggled to bite back a smile at how delighted he looked. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest to hold back his own wave of laughter. ‘Stop getting distracted. Just use the goddamn poo bags.’
‘But I went all the way back to the apartment all by myself to get them.’ Wade whined.
‘Yeah, well I’m the one who had to stand on the corner waiting for you and looking like a total dickfuck.’
‘What if you do half and I do the other ha-’
‘Wade.’
Wade picked it up.
‘You should take off the gloves.’ Logan suggested once Wade had tossed the offending bag into the bin at the dog park. Now definitely wasn’t the right time to properly discuss Wade’s image issues, but he thought he could at least plant the seed of a bigger conversation he wanted to have.
Wade looked confused. ‘Why?’
‘I dunno.’ Logan shrugged, then quickly corrected with, ‘Unhygienic otherwise. You’ve been carrying that bag and all.’
Wade looked suspicious, as if Logan was playing some kind of elaborate prank on him. He folded his arms, his hands tucked under his armpits so as the mittens were hidden from view.
Logan sighed. He knew he should just leave it, that he should just keep walking like he didn’t care. But he couldn’t. He cared, and there was a half-hidden, desperate part of himself that needed Wade to know that.
Even if it stretched a few of the boundaries.
He snatched Wade’s hands in his, wrestling them away from his chest. ‘Here, just-’
‘Hey! What the hell, man!’
Wade tried to wriggle his hands away, much like Mary Puppins had squirmed in his arms just minutes earlier.
‘Bub, just let me-’
‘Stop it!’
‘Calm down I’m trying to-’
‘Logan, let go-’
The lack of a pet name made Logan pause, his grip on Wade’s wrists loosening. He couldn’t remember the last time Wade had used his name. It was always snookums, or honey badger, or peanut, or seventeen million other things. Logan was unusual.
‘Wade.’ Logan said in a tone much gentler than the one he had used before, softer than he had spoken in what felt like years. ‘It’s okay.’
Wade stopped squirming, his hands going limp. ‘There are just so many people here.’
Wade glanced to his right, motioning with his head for Logan to look, too. The park wasn’t particularly busy, but there was a small group of teenagers having a picnic a few feet away from them that seemed to have noticed their little scuffle.
A few of them were laughing. Logan swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run at them with his claws out.
‘Fuck ‘em.’ Logan said, tugging both gloves off in one motion. ‘You’re with me right now.’
Logan regretted his choice of words for a moment, but then shrugged the thought off. If it made Wade feel better, it made him feel better. He braced for an innuendo or crass joke, but none came. Instead, Wade just smiled and squeezed his hand.
Logan squeezed it back.
He could feel his face warming, and turned away so Wade wouldn’t notice it as they kept walking. He was tactile with everyone, after all, and Logan didn’t want to make him uncomfortable after he had been so trusting in allowing Logan to remove his gloves.
But Wade noticed. Of course he did.
‘Aw, Peanut!’ He cooed. ‘You’re blushing!’
‘S’warm.’ Logan mumbled. ‘Too warm for gloves anyway, asshole.’
‘But not too warm to hold my hand…’ Wade tittered, swinging Logan’s hand in his.
‘It will be if you don’t shut up.’
Logan bent down, Wade still clutching his left hand, and picked up Mary Puppins’ discarded tennis ball in his right. He whistled for her and tossed it a few feet- just enough to catch her interest. She trotted after it for a moment before sitting down beside it expectantly.
Logan shook his head in disbelief. ‘We need to teach this mutt how to play fetch, Bub.’ He kicked the ball another few feet in front of them, Mary Puppins lolloping after it then immediately sitting down once again.
‘We?’ Wade clasped his hand tighter, smiling widely. ‘As in, co-dogparents?’
Logan pretended not to hear him. They walked around the rest of the park in silence, the pleased look on Wade’s face saying more than any words could.