Chapter Text
Wade has a hunch. A hypothesis, if you will. Something he desperately wants to test out.
See, it’s no secret that Logan likes having things in his mouth, if you know what you’re looking for – the alcohol, the cigars – and it all points to one conclusion: Logan has an oral fixation. Now, being as he and Logan officially became boyfriends (although Logan refuses to call it that) soon after coming home together from the void, Wade feels that he is just the scientist for the job, here.
Wade knows he has to be stealthy about this, keep his mouth shut lest someone steal all his carefully crafted research.
It starts innocent enough, the little things that add up to become Wade’s evidence. The first event that tips Wade off, alerts his kinky sense (like spider sense, but better), isn’t even remotely sexual in nature.
Logan had been agitated all day, growly and tense, snapping more than usual at Wade and even once at Laura that had made him freeze and nearly flee the apartment in panic. He didn’t want to leave Wade or her for too long, though, so he settled on chain smoking cigars on their balcony, instead. So Wade knew they were going to be in for a night of it, Logan’s nightmares usually chased the heels of a bad day like a hell hound, the finishing touches to a truly, overwhelmingly bad 24 hour period.
When Logan wakes up thrashing that night, Wade isn’t surprised. He takes the punch he catches to the gut with grace, thankful Logan’s claws hadn’t made an appearance, yet, and just rolls over onto his back out of the way as Logan sits up beside him. Wade wheezes a little, catching his breath and watching Logan come back to this universe. He’s shaking, heaving deep lungfuls of air that catch in his throat as dry sobs. Wade knows he can’t touch him just yet, no matter how badly it hurts to not be holding him right now, it never ends well if Wade reaches out before Logan knows where he is again. He can talk to him, though.
“Can I do anything, peanut? Need something from me?” He quite literally means anything, would give Logan the sun and moon if he asked right now. Logan buries his face in his hands and groans. Wade can tell he’s drenched in sweat already, his bare back glistening in the low light of their room. Moonlight washing them in shades of grey. It’s still early, they’d only been asleep a few hours, and if it’s a really bad night, Logan could wake up from four or five more nightmares before morning.
Logan croaks in reply, voice ragged. “Um, water? M’gonna go get some water.” He’s been sober for months now, almost a whole year. Not a drop in the house to tempt him, even, but it’s still nice to hear him ask for something other than alcohol. He makes an aborted movement, lilting in his motion, to lift the covers, but he’s stopped by Wade’s voice again.
“Don’t need to go anywhere, baby. Here, I’ve got a cup on the nightstand by me.” Logan breathes in relief, he hadn’t wanted to leave their bed, leave Wade. Afraid he’d disappear when he was out of his sight. He scrambles for the nightstand, straddling Wade’s waist in the process and Wade knows he can touch him safely now. Logan grabs the water bottle, a bright red tumbler bottle with an obnoxious amount of stickers on it. Wade had gotten him and Laura matching yellow ones, but Logan never remembered to carry his around.
He stays in Wade’s lap, gulping desperately for a few moments before needing to breathe again. Wade’s hands run along his thighs and up his sides, grounding and soothing him in equal measure. He settles his weight, knowing Wade can handle him and chews on the bottle's straw while he gathers himself.
“Couldn’t get through to you.” He says around the straw. “Couldn’t break the door down in time.” It’s never this easy to get Logan to talk about a nightmare. Wade has to hold himself back from gasping in shock and ruining the moment. Logan has this particular nightmare frequently, though, the one where he’s not strong enough to get to Wade before the time ripper succeeds in destroying everything. Wade has a few tactics that work to help him after, depending on the night, he hedges his bet and tries one of them now.
“But you did, baby. Got to me just in time and saved my whole world. We’re safe now, sweetheart. ‘Cause of you, how strong you are.” He traces his fingertips across the scars under Logan’s pecs, speaking softly to him. On his worst nights, Logan will get pissed at Wade for shutting the door on him, inadvertently causing him to have the nightmare in the first place, but tonight Logan just hums in mild agreement, grinding the straw between his molars. The silicone a satisfying texture on his teeth. He’s still clutching the cup tightly in both hands, but his eyes have glazed a little bit, less wild in their intensity.
And it’s this that catches Wade’s attention, connects some dots for a brief moment, before Logan yawns, jaw clicking with the stretch and grumbles out a tired growl and Wade is distracted in his efforts to take care of him. He coos at him, taking advantage of his sleepiness to baby him without fear of getting bitten. Wade grabs the cup from Logan’s hands, setting it back on the nightstand, noting briefly that the straw was absolutely shredded to shit from Logan’s fangs, before pulling Logan to lay down against his chest. He wraps their comforter around them both, loose but a welcome weight, not too tight to make Logan anxious. Logan squirms, burrowing his face into Wade’s chest before settling with a quiet purr as Wade starts to stroke his hair.
Wade will look back on tonight as his first piece of evidence.
—
His second evidentiary event occurs a few weeks later.
Logan crashes as soon as they get back from the grocery store, overstimulated from the trip. He’s asleep before his head even fully settles in Wade’s lap on the couch. It's peaceful for a while, Wade absentmindedly scratching behind his ears as he plays on his phone with the other, something playing on the tv for background noise.
Eventually, Logan begins to stir, squirming fitfully, little hurt noises coming from his lips. He clicks his tongue in his mouth, still asleep. A small, discontent noise. Wade tilts his head to look at him more fully, he reaches his hand and cups Logan’s jaw. Sweeping his thumb across Logan’s bottom lip causes them to part prettily, so sweet.
Wade knows he’s risking getting his fingers bit off, but he has a hunch about what Logan’s wanting. Softly, slowly, he pushes his thumb into Logan’s mouth, who hums around it, content and already sucking gently on the digit.
“Jesus fuck, peanut.” Wade breathes out. He watches awed as Logan settles, previous stirring completely smoothed over. This was the second time Logan calmed down after putting something in his mouth. Wade’s brain began working a mile a minute, cataloging and recategorizing all of Logan’s quirks and behaviors, trying to figure out how he’d missed this before.
He decides it doesn’t matter that he didn’t know before, what matters is what he’s going to do now . And what he’s going to do now is figure out exactly how deep this goes for Logan and how far Wade can push him until he admits it's a thing.
Wade’s got himself a case study on his hands.