Chapter Text
“When was the last time you got your dick sucked?” Wade asks, point blank, after three entire days of Logan’s pissy, ridiculous mood. He’s had enough of him stomping around, yelling all day, and drinking until he passes out each night. Maybe if he got some action he would calm the fuck down. Wade knows some people willing to help a guy out.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” See? Here we fucking go with the attitude.
“I said: THERE’S A STICK UP YOUR ASS, DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO FUCK IT OUT OF YOU.”
The steak knife that Logan had been eating with sails through the air into the living room to just barely slice Wade’s ear, van Gogh style, and lodge itself into the wall just above the TV.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Logan? We own one nice thing in this entire apartment and it’s that fucking TV and you’re gonna do that?” Wade rises from the couch, rounding it to stalk after Logan in the kitchen. He crosses his arms in the doorway, silently demanding an apology.
“Shut the fuck up and stop bothering me, or next time I won’t fucking miss.”
Wade’s not real proud of what he does next.
In short (but still not nearly as short as Logan), he flips shit, shoving at Logan so hard he nearly topples out of the kitchen chair — no small feat considering just how fucking dense the goddamn motherfucker is.
Logan nearly howls in answer, dropping his fork and drawing his claws he flings himself at Wade spitting and hissing. Wade takes the stabbing, the scratching, successful in dodging close enough to Logan’s space to tackle him down.
“Fuck you,” Logan spits when his back hits the floor.
“I already tried to offer that, handsome, that’s how we ended up here.”
Somehow, this pisses Logan off even more. He gets a knee between their chests, shoving Wade off him and across the floor so hard he skids across the hardwood and hits his head on the corner of the wall. But he rebounds quickly, back on top of Logan before his head even stops spinning. Wrestling him into submission to hover over him, earning teeth at his throat and a vicious bite to his shoulder.
Logan’s livid when he snarls, “No, you didn’t fucking offer , you complete fucking asshole. You made one of your stupid fucking jokes again. That’s all you ever do.”
Wade freezes, breath catching in his torn up throat. Surely Logan isn’t fucking implying that he wants Wade to offer for real.
“Logan…”
He squirms, still pinned under Wade. It’s not easy keeping the Wolverine in place and it’s not lost on Wade that he’s probably one of the few people capable of doing it. “Listen, kitty cat, I’m gonna need some words from you — do you want me to offer for real?”
Wade genuinely can’t tell, he shifts his knee between Logan’s legs and feels nothing, no bulge, nothing to indicate Logan’s as into their fighting as Wade is, who’s been hard since his ear healed over. Except Logan’s eyelids flutter and he presses forward just barely, hips twitching against Wade’s minutely.
“I need,” Logan starts in a whisper, voice rough and low, gravel in his throat that makes Wade think it has to fucking hurt to talk like that all the time. “I need you to be serious about this, about—” me goes unspoken between them. The words sound wrenched from him against his will.
“Serious as a fucking heart attack right now, Logan.”
Thrashing, Logan snarls, snapping his teeth in Wade’s face, “I don’t believe you.”
“Then let me fucking prove it.”
Something like real fear flashes across Logan’s face before he fixes it, baring his fangs.
Wade grabs his face in one hand, pinching his cheeks a little, “Hey. Let. Me. Prove it . Give me a yes right now, and I’ll spend however long it takes to get you to see I’m being honest, that I want you for real.”
“We’re not having this conversation.” Logan’s tense as a fucking rock beneath Wade, pinned by his wrists and hips where Wade sits on top of him. He’s gone stock still and dangerously quiet — he growled and snarled and panted through their whole scuffle, but now it’s like he refuses to show even those signs of effort or weakness. If Wade wasn’t sitting on his stomach, he’d seriously doubt Logan was even breathing right now.
“Fine. Actions speak louder than words, anyway, don’t they, hot stuff? Isn’t that why you’re a stab first, talk never kinda guy?” Wade softens his grip on Logan’s jaw, gentles his hand into more of a caress, exploring the scratchy facial hair and sharp line of his cheekbones and jaw with careful fingers. It’s new territory; dangerous as fuck, but the claws haven’t come out again, and Wade hasn’t heard a ‘no’. He dips his head low, runs his nose along Logan’s ear, relishing the shudder that wracks his body in response. “I’ve been serious about you since I brought you home, Logan. Always figured that it would never happen, though, so I had to joke about it or the reality of it would’ve fucking killed me.”
Logan sucks a sharp breath in, tries to kick up his legs again but the height difference isn’t in his favor in this position, Wade hooks his own longer calves over top of Logan’s, pins him the rest of the way to the floor.
The first kiss he presses to Logan’s ear draws a small stuttering gasp from him, steals it right out of his lungs without his permission. The second steals something akin to a sob before Logan loses it completely, fighting against Wade with everything he’s got. He ends up throwing him across the room again, scrambling to his feet to prowl over to Wade’s crumpled form with his claws drawn. Fisting Wade’s shirt in one of his hands he pulls him up to meet his eyes, claws inches from Wade’s face.
“You’re still just fucking around. You’re still just fucking with me.” He buries his claws in Wade’s stomach, again and again but Wade just takes it, hoping it’ll at least work the tension from Logan.
Blood dribbles onto the floor, matching the streak out of Wade’s mouth when he grins. “You know, you never did answer my question earlier. When was the last time you had your dick sucked? Or does it not work anymore and that’s what this whole thing is about? We can handle that, peanut — I’ve got enough toys for your prostate you’d never have to worry about being hard again. It’s not a dealbreaker.”
Logan looks a little sick, but in the way that lets Wade know he’s way off the mark with those last comments. The moment of hesitation gives him his opening, he grabs Logan’s wrist and wrenches the claws out of his sternum, heaving himself up to his full height from his knees. Logan lets him, backing up one, two, three steps until he’s bumping into the kitchen table with a yelp.
“Whoa, hey. Alright, let’s take a pause, come on,” Wade says, on him instantly with fluttering, anxious hands, and not a fucking clue what’s going on inside Logan’s head. The Wolverine lets him grab at his shoulders, steadying him, and he doesn’t fight when Wade’s hands start exploding, wandering over his collarbones and chest, down to his stomach.
Wade crowds his space, stepping into him with intent and Logan lets that happen, too.
“Tell me you’ll let me try to prove it,” Wade breathes, caught up in the way Logan’s warmth spread through his fingertips.
“Do whatever the fuck you want.” Balling his hands to hide the tremble, Logan juts his chin up, bracing himself like he just told Wade to kill him any way he saw fit. It’s not quite the enthusiastic consent Wade was hoping for, but it’s a green light all the same, and he knows he’ll have Logan asking for more by the end.
He starts slow, giving Logan the chance to change his mind, but when he doesn’t, Wade cups his face again with one hand, trailing the other around the waistband of his pants. He leans down, capturing Logan’s lips in a gentle, heated kiss, slipping his tongue inside when Logan gasps for him, nicking himself on sharp fangs.
Wade works his hand under the rolled band of Logan’s sweatpants slowly, tilting Logan’s jaw to deepen the kiss as he slides over the fabric of his boxers to cup him. He meets warmth and damp cotton, groaning into Logan’s mouth when he realizes what’s going on. Wade grinds his palm over Logan’s dick lightly, noting the way his hips jump into the contact.
Logan fists Wade’s shirt, torn between pushing him off and pulling him closer, thinking this is the part where Wade admits he was just joking. He rips his mouth away from Wade’s, wiping the spit away with the back of his hand roughly. “So?”
Taking things in stride, Wade just moves his mouth to Logan’s neck, brushing his lips over the sensitive spot below his jaw before taking a bite .
“F-fuck.”
“We’re getting there, peanut. Why’d you say ‘so’? So what?”
Logan bristles, “aren’t you going to fucking joke now? Now that you know—”
“Know what? Know you like a little fighting as foreplay, too? Glass house, here, honey badger. I’m not gonna throw the first stone.” It’s an out, a way for Logan to backtrack — act like he didn’t just imply what he did about Wade. And Wade fucking hopes he takes it because the alternative stings a little, that Logan would actually think he’d joke about that .
Logan glares for all of three seconds before surging up to Wade’s mouth again, all sharp teeth and bruising lips. Wade’s unyielding, matching him blow for blow.
“What’s it gonna be, angel baby?” Wade asks when they part. “Gonna let me prove it to you? I’m all in. Any way you’ll have me.” He figures fuck it, he’s already shown his hand, might as well bare the rest of his heart, too. He’s down so fucking bad for Logan that even if all he wanted was to blow off some steam every once in a while, Wade would wait at his beck and call. But Logan had started all this, demanded for Wade to be serious, so some shameless, small part of him starts to believe that Logan wants just as much as he does.
Skating his hands down Logan’s sides, Wade says, “let’s go to my room, ‘Kay?” Because Logan doesn’t have a room. He stays on the couch and pretends to sleep, pretends he’s not waiting for the other shoe to drop and for everything to be ripped away from him again. He stays awake preparing for the inevitable moment when Wade realizes he’s not worth the trouble of keeping around. Especially not like this — can’t even give Wade what he’s after like this, not without a trip to some sex shop at the bare minimum for some rudimentary dildo to fuck him with. And Logan hasn’t done anything like that in fucking decades.
Wade keeps talking, keeps pushing and asking and leading because Logan’s not saying no, but he’s not exactly being forthcoming with where he wants this to go and Wade already knows.
Logan’s jaw clicks when he closes it, shoving Wade back to stalk toward his bedroom with Wade left reeling and chasing after him.
“You say one dumb thing, anything I don’t like and I’m fucking gone, do you hear me?” Logan says when the door clicks shut behind them, not meeting Wade’s eyes. He’s not stupid enough to think Logan’s actually going to explain his boundaries or give Wade the gist of what’s allowed and what’s not, but it wouldn’t be the two of them without a little challenge.
“Am I gonna need a safeword, sweetheart? Are you planning on getting the claws out?” He sees ‘sweetheart’ land in real time, catching Logan between his ribs like a blade because it’s new, but Wade already decided if this was his one chance he wasn’t going to hold back; he’d show Logan how it could be all the time at his word.
“I fucking mean it, Wade.”
Wade frowns, coming to stand toe to toe with Logan who tips his head back to stare him down. This isn’t going how Wade planned it, not even close and he almost doesn’t think he can salvage it; that his one shot at proving himself to Logan is going to crash and burn damn near immediately, fizzle out before it can even start.
“I know, Logan.”
Logan just nods and to Wade’s surprise — and delight — starts fucking stripping.
“Whoa, whoa, hey what if I wanna do that, peanut? Can’t take all my fun.” He jumps in to help, making a grab for Logan’s tank top and flinging it across the bedroom. He takes in Logan’s chest and can’t help the way his eyes trace over his pecs.
“You’re not gonna find any scars, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Logan huffs, face red, “Haven’t, um, there’s still—” he goes to cross his arms, suddenly self conscious, though there’s no reason to be; Wade was just admiring the muscles and hair.
Batting Logan’s arms away, Wade grabs the waistband of his pants and tugs Logan close, “wasn’t looking for that. Was looking at how fuckin’ hairy you are, thinking about how obsessed with it I am.” He pulls at Logan’s sweats, helping him step out of them and flings them opposite the tank top, leaving Logan in his boxer briefs. Before he can reach for those, Logan spins them, shoving Wade onto the bed and climbing on top of him in a straddle.
“Taking too fucking long, c’mon.” He wrestles Wade out of his own clothes, giving him a look when he realizes he’s not wearing any underwear, but Wade just shrugs, wiggling his brows.
“Don’t tell me you don’t appreciate the easy access, honey badger.” But it’s Wade’s turn to feel the strike of self consciousness, realizing Logan’s never seen this much of his skin before but it’s quickly driven away when Logan’s face softens, looking at Wade like he’s something worth seeing. He braces his hands on Wade’s chest, skating his palms over scarred skin in long passes.
“Fuck me,” Logan says suddenly, eyeing Wade’s cock where it bobs against his stomach, precome already beading at the tip.
“Ride me,” Wade counters, shuffling up to lean against the pillows with Logan still straddling his thighs.
“Fine,” Logan finally strips the rest of the way, slipping boxers down his hips and it takes everything in Wade not to come at the sight of him, flushed a pretty pink and leaking, cock peeking out through the hairiest bush Wade’s ever seen. He goes to swing a leg back over Wade’s hip but Wade catches him, hands wrapping around Logan’s waist to lay him out flat on his back instead.
“Changed my mind, I need my mouth on you like yesterday, sweetheart. Can I do that? Please let me do that.” Wade knows he’s begging, knows he sounds desperate but he doesn’t fucking care, not when Logan spreads his legs for him, pushing him down, down, down by his shoulders until he’s face to dick with Logan’s groin.
“Come on, Mouth.”
Wade dives right in, lapping over Logan with the flat of his tongue, moaning at the taste of him. He tastes just like Wade thought he would, hoped he would. A little musky and masculine. Wolverine through and through. He tries to talk with his mouth full, mumbles praise against Logan’s heated skin. “So good, fuck , Logan you taste so good.
Logan gasps, bucking into the sensation, Wade’s words making his head spin. He growls a little at the end, fighting it — doesn’t want to give in to the vulnerability. Wade notices, though, of course he does, hardwired to be attuned to Logan’s every move.
“Fucking perfect,” he says, sucking at Logan harshly before pulling back. “Best I’ve ever had already. Could suck your cock forever, sweetheart, if you’d let me.” Smirking, Wade feels Logan get wetter at the comment, dripping and twitching against his mouth. He’s not even lying or playing it up, everything about Logan is perfect to him, including this — Wade’s already addicted to him, the way he tastes, the way he fills his mouth, all the pretty noises he makes.
Something changes as Logan gets closer, like the ice in his chest melted and cracked a little, letting him lose some of his composure. His bitten back moans turn to shaky whines and then outright whimpers, pawing at Wade’s shoulders to keep him in place. He falls apart completely when Wade brings his hand up, pushing two fingers into him to match the pace of his mouth, curling up to rub against his sweet spot.
Logan whimpers when he comes, thighs closing around Wade’s ears to nearly crush his head, but fuck if it isn’t exactly where Wade wants to die. He fucks Logan through it, scissoring his fingers gently and pressing sweet, wet kisses against his dick to draw out his pleasure. Tipping right over into a second one, Logan cries out Wade’s name, desperate and pleading.
“Wade, please . I need— it’s too—”
“Sh, I hear you, baby. I’ve got you.” Wade pulls off him, wiping his fingers off on the bedsheets and his chin with the back of his hand. Logan looks overwhelmed, flushing pink and panting, splayed out in the middle of Wade’s bed like he belongs there.
His brows pinch, though, like something’s wrong and Wade panics thinking he fucked up, but Logan half sits up, reaching out needy hands and pulls him close.
“C’mere,” he demands, clinging to Wade as soon as he lays down, suddenly sweet and terribly endearing. Wade’s so so fucked. “Hold me.”
It’s not a question. Wade thinks he’s in heaven. He wraps his arms around Logan’s broad shoulders, nuzzles his nose against fuzzy cheeks in a way that has Logan melting into his side.
A rumbling, vibrational noise fills the room and Wade freezes, lips pressed to the space between Logan’s brows. “Are you— is that purring?”
The noise cuts off abruptly.
“No.”
Wade remembers Logan’s warning, that if he says something to piss him off he’ll leave, so he stays quiet. Let’s the lie be. He goes back to cuddling Logan, because that’s what they’re doing, post-orgasm cuddling and it’s the best thing to probably ever happen to Wade and he hasn’t even gotten off yet. He skates his palms down Logan’s back, scars catching on soft body hair. It’s like a fucking forest.
He startles when Logan grabs his dick, though the touch is just a gentle caress, stroking over the length of him slowly. He wasn’t really thinking about himself, though, more focused on making sure Logan was alright. “Hey, Logan, you don’t have to do that. I’m alright. Don’t have to do anything more if you’re not ready for it.” Wade can’t get the fucked out look on Logan’s face after he came out of his head, like it almost hurt. Like he forgot what pleasure felt like.
The rumbling starts again as Logan nips over Wade’s jaw lightly, presses of his fangs that leave Wade wanting more — barely there threats of the damage he knows he can do with them. He works Wade over, spreading precome over the head of his cock with a careful thumb. “M’good. Want you to fuck me now, Red, come on. Said you’d prove it to me.”
This is not the same Logan who skewered him in the kitchen earlier, he sounds much more willing to believe Wade’s actions and words now that he’s come once. And he’s still clinging, flopped over onto Wade’s chest like he pays the rent on it, which is silly because he doesn’t even pay the real rent on their actual apartment.
“M’sorry, about what I said earlier— you’re not…” Logan starts, clearly struggling with his words, frowning into Wade’s neck, face tucked under his chin. “I shouldn’t have expected you to, um…”
“Lo?”
The purring-that’s-not-purring gets louder at the nickname.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to say sorry. Just maybe give me the benefit of the doubt next time.” He gets it, well, gets it enough as he can without having gone through it; it’s no shock that Logan would have had bad experiences coming out in the past, considering how he was being treated when Wade found him in that bar. But Wade would never, and would kick the shit out of anyone’s ass who gave Logan trouble for it in this universe. He knows the conversation’s over, though, when Logan starts to squirm, tensing up in his arms, uncomfortable.
“Stop talkin’,” Logan rumbles, climbing into a straddle over Wade’s stomach again, thick, hairy thighs spread wide. Wade’s mesmerized, grabbing greedy handfuls of muscle.
“Uh huh, sure. Whatever you say peanut, hey, side note: can you strangle me with these later? You almost got me earlier but I really want you to snap my neck with these thunder thighs.”
Logan just rolls his eyes, bracing his hands on Wade’s chest to grind down on his abdomen, slick cock dragging on the textured, uneven skin. It feels good , made even better by the way it takes Wade’s breath away, hands scrabbling at Logan’s hips to encourage the motion. His own cock leaks, nudging Logan’s ass on every slow rock backward.
“Fuck, Lo why do I feel like you’re gonna ruin me,” Wade moans, tossing his head back against the pillows while Logan grins at him, wicked and sharp. He hovers over Wade on his knees, notching the head of his cock against his hole to press in slowly, sinking down halfway before pausing.
“God, you’re fucking big,” Logan mumbles, and Wade almost laughs because it’s clearly not a compliment, he says it like he’s put off, pouting that he can’t take Wade the full way just yet. His face is pinched, sliding back up his length to rock down again, taking more this time.
“Easy, sweetheart, Lo—,” Wade groans, fighting the urge to slam his hips up, buck into Logan’s perfect, wet heat. “Fuck, you’re tight .”
Snarling, Logan unsheathes one middle claw, pointing it directly in Wade’s face, “don’t.”
Christ they’re definitely going to have to talk boundaries if this is gonna be a repeat performance. And Wade really fucking hopes it’ll be a repeat performance. But for now, he can roll with the metaphorical punches, praying they don’t turn into physical ones.
He mimes zipping his lips, rocking up into Logan, drawing a keening cry from his throat as he settles fully in Wade’s lap, entirety of his thick cock buried deep inside him.
Wade sits up, drawing Logan close to his chest to guide his movements, helping him start to ride him slowly, adjusting to the fullness and the pressure. “C’mere, baby, let me take care of you,” he says, lips pressed to Logan’s ear, close enough to feel the way he trembles from the effort. Wade half expects claws to the brain for the comment, but Logan’s all tame now that Wade’s filling him so perfectly. He looks a little cock drunk, pretty lips parted on a sighing exhale, eyes going half-lidded as he finds his rhythm.
“That’s it, peanut, take what you want from me. Make yourself feel good, come on.”
Logan’s thighs burn, but he keeps going, pulling off nearly the whole way before slamming his hips down again. He drips down Wade’s cock, making a mess of them both. Mouthing over Wade’s jaw, he whines high with his lips pressed against his skin.
Wade can’t stop touching him all over, smoothing hands down his back, up into his hair to tug in his kitty ear cowlicks. He reaches between their bodies to stroke over Logan’s cock, too in slick, tight circles.
“Fuck, Wade. Feels so good,” Logan shakes on top of him, faltering as the pleasure peaks, thighs giving out to just grind himself against the base of Wade’s dick in sharp little motions. He buries his head into Wade’s shoulder, soft sounds of pure need passing his lips.
Wade can barely think, barely focus on not coming, wanting to get Logan over the edge first one more time, but this is so much better than what he thought would happen. So much more fucking intimate than the “fuck the tension out of my roommate” type scenario he was envisioning when he propositioned Logan. This is slow rolls of his hips, cupping the nape of Logan’s neck to keep him as close as possible as he buries himself inside him over and over again, murmuring about how good he feels, how hard he can tell Logan is, how much he wants him to come.
“Can tell you’re aching for it, baby. Why don’t you come for me? Taking me so well like this, you deserve it.” His voice pitches low, serious in a way he rarely gets anymore, but something about this feels weighty and he’s still scared to fuck it all up. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” He speeds up his thumb on Logan’s cock, grinding the pad of his finger into it roughly.
Logan arches into him, scratches his nails down Wade’s back hard enough to draw blood when he comes at his words and the sensation, pulsing and hot around Wade’s dick, crying out, “Wade, Wade, Wade. ”
He seeks out Wade’s mouth after, sucking on his tongue and biting at his bottom lip as Wade plants his feet on the bed, fucking up into him roughly, chasing after his own orgasm now.
“Fucking, fuck . Gonna come, Logan. Where—”
Logan cuts him off with a low growl, looping his arms around his neck and shoving Wade down with all his weight before claiming his mouth again, lapping up the blood dribbling down his chin.
Wade spills into him, tasting his own blood in his mouth with a hollow gasp, he fucks up into Logan as best he can with all three hundred pounds of him bearing down on his lap.
Collapsing back against the pillows, he draws Logan down with him, cock softening inside him but not pulling out as he pants through the aftershocks. And because god hates him, and he can’t ever have nice things, Wade says the dumbest, worst thing he could possibly say while still balls deep in the Wolverine. The Wolverine he kidnapped, who lives in his house with no real means of supporting himself without relying on Wade. That Wolverine.
“ Fuck , I love you, Lo.”
Well… Logan wanted proof that he was serious, right?