Chapter Text
“Can you get pregnant?”
Logan cracked an eye open and noted the digital clock on the bedside table. Five forty-two in the morning . It was far too early to deal with Wade’s bullshit.
“What the fuck do you think?” Logan grumbled, and pulled the sheets over his head. Wade pressed on, undeterred.
“So in your universe, men and women can both get pregnant, but it’s only male omegas, right?”
Logan grunted, which Wade clearly took as an affirmative, rolling onto his side and facing the older mutant in the bed.
“And you’re an omega?”
“I’m also two hundred fucking years old.”
“Yeah, see, that’s what I thought, too. But if you go into heat, wouldn’t that also mean—”
Logan wearily dragged the linen sheets off his head and glared at Wade. “How do you know any of this? Have you been to my world recently?”
Wade snorted. “Well, I wasn’t giving the TVA lady her handheld back . And with you turning into a raging nympho every few months, I thought I should know more. This is entirely new territory for me.”
Early or not, Logan didn’t want to have this conversation. He sighed and swung his legs off the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“So can you?”
Logan glanced over his shoulder at Wade. The other man had propped himself up on his arm, and he had that look in his eye that said he wasn’t going to give up the topic without a satisfying answer. The older mutant looked forward at the wall.
“No.”
“Oh.” A pause. “Is it because I’m not an alpha, or…?”
“ Jesus Christ ,” Logan muttered. “No, it has nothing to do with that. I can’t . Let’s leave it there.”
But Wade was incapable of leaving anything anywhere. “ Could you at one point?”
“Why does this matter to you?”
“My universe is completely incapable of handling anything if you did get pregnant.”
“Which is not a problem.”
“But aren’t you curious about why, suddenly, after years and years and years of not having to deal with Sex Pollen Syndrome—”
“Heat.”
“ — it’s come back ?”
The thought had occurred to Logan, but he’d written it off as a quirk of whatever brand of immortality his X gene gave him. There hadn't been many mutants who were actually omegas back in his universe (he’d been one of the oh-so-lucky few), so not much study had been done in the area at all. Those that had been studied had normal lifespans. Logan was an outlier, and it didn’t seem all that unlikely that the heat cycle could take a break for a decade or two.
“It’s not an issue. Trust me.” Logan stood, making his way to the living room and shutting the bedroom door before Wade could respond.
It had been a year and a half since Logan had come to call Earth-10005 his home, and for much of it (with the exception of a couple months immediately after the time ripper incident), he and Wade had shared a two bedroom apartment not far from Althea’s place. For the first few weeks in the new place, they’d slept in separate rooms. But, ever since Logan’s first heat in decades just under one year ago, they’d shared a bed.
There’d never been any exact point where he and Wade decided they were more than roommates who slept together. It just became a fact. They’d been the last to know, really. It had taken attending a Christmas party at Vanessa and Dermott’s company, where Vanessa had introduced “Wade and his boyfriend Logan” to her coworkers, for them to realize that the term fit. They kissed, they fucked, they occasionally ripped each other to shreds. A typical romance.
A good thing, too, because Logan could not deny the fact that his heat cycle had returned, and if he’d had to deal with that in his own universe, where he was hated? Or alone in this universe, where such a thing didn’t even exist in humans? He could imagine the misery. He’d had another a few months after the first in Cincinnati, and he tried not to think too much about it. It meant nothing. It was nothing. Just an annoyance.
Logan fixed himself a cup of coffee, and as it brewed in the Keurig, he took note of how intense the smell was, and how maybe a dozen doughnuts from the vendor on the sidewalk below would go great with it, and—
Fuck .
Had it been six months already? A look at the calendar on his phone revealed that yes, it was nearly September, and the timing was right. Just an annoyance . It was only one week, but his life ground to a halt for the entirety of it. And Wade’s, by extension, because Logan could not handle it well on his own.
The Keurig shut off and Logan picked up the mug of black coffee, leaning back against the counter and brooding. At least he could read the signs of the preheat now. No more surprises. He estimated that he had a few more days before it
actually
hit. They didn’t have a mission coming up—none of Wade’s contacts had reached out as far as Logan knew, so that wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them had traditional jobs, either; the occasional missions provided enough income to live on.
As for his personal life, the only person outside of Wade that Logan himself kept up with was Laura, and she hadn’t reached out recently. She lived at the X Mansion, intact in this universe, and Logan had so far refused to set foot near it. Laura said she understood, but it meant they only saw each other once in a great while. Thankfully there’d been nothing planned within the next few weeks, so no conflict there.
But Wade, in a shocking twist, had an incredibly busy personal life. He had dedicated Friday nights to Althea for “building snowmen,” and almost always had something planned every other weekday with Ellie and Yukio, or Vanessa, or Dopinder, or Peter. Or all five. Logan felt like a third wheel most of the time, having forgotten how to have relationships with people since his life went to shit in his old universe, but he went out because it made Wade happy.
Not this upcoming week, though. Neither of them would really be leaving the apartment when it hit. Thankfully, it looked like Wade didn’t have much coming up on their shared Google calendar. Just a party for Peter to celebrate some new promotion, and it was at a restaurant only a few blocks away. They could swing that.
Logan took a sip of coffee and quickly marked off the next week on his phone, his way of letting Wade know that his heat was imminent and not to make anymore plans. The merc would see when he got up.
Or he’d see it now.
“Call me Farmer Joe, because I am going to be plowing that ass for a whole week!” Wade’s voice was muffled by the bedroom door.
“Dipshit,” Logan muttered affectionately as he took another swig of coffee. The caffeine was doing its job, the last vestiges of his annoyance at being woken up so damn early melting away. And a good thing, too, because Wade appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that said “Wolverine took my virginity in a Tim Horton’s parking lot.” Logan had wanted to set the shirt on fire immediately upon seeing it, and had attempted to steal it on numerous occasions to do just that, but whenever Wade wasn’t wearing it, it was mysteriously nowhere to be found.
The merc came up behind Logan and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his head on the older mutant’s shoulder.
“We’re going out for dinner tonight. There’s a bar in East Village that serves Moosehead.”
Logan smirked. “Laying it on thick?”
“Just want to make sure you eat,” Wade answered innocently. “Since you literally refuse food for a week.”
“You hate Moosehead.”
“I didn’t say I would be drinking it.”
“Mm-hm. And you certainly aren’t already planning out everything you want to do to me next week.”
“ Perish the thought,” Wade said, gently biting Logan’s neck. The older mutant could feel Wade half-hard against his thigh, but with his heat looming before him he truly was not in the mood. He had a seven day marathon ahead of him.
“Fine. Dinner out tonight. But that’s a long way off. I need something else in the meantime.” Logan pulled away from the merc and set his coffee on the countertop.
“I’ll give you something in the meantime,” Wade said in a suggestive tone. Logan didn’t look back, but he could feel Wade’s eyes on him as he crossed to the front door. He grabbed a light jacket from the hook by the apartment’s entrance and threw it on.
“You’ll get what you want,” Logan said with a smile thrown over his shoulder. “You just have to wait a few days.”
The celebration of Peter’s promotion was three days after Logan’s preheat hit, and there was no sign of the main event when he and Wade showed up at the Irish pub where everyone was meeting. He knew because, of course, he would have felt it, but Wade also felt the need to press the back of his hand to Logan’s forehead every so often to make certain he wasn’t running a fever.
“Touch me like that again and I’m going to rip your fucking hand off,” Logan growled the fifth time the merc did it.
“You’re welcome to try, but it wouldn’t grow to full size in time. Are you sure you want to experience the baby hand ?” Wade answered, waggling his fingers in Logan’s face. “It has been described as freakish , disturbing , and like being caressed by an Oompa Loompa. ”
Logan made a face and slapped Wade’s hand away, but kept his claws sheathed.
The celebration was not so many of Wade’s current friends and more of his former coworkers from DriveMax, 99% of whom Logan could not name. But Peter was elated to see them both, and it made the awkward smalltalk just bearable.
Only an hour or so into the night, though, the brain fog rolled in. It suddenly took all his of his energy to concentrate on the story Peter was telling. Something about a Kia Carnival…
“—and then they just crushed it. Right in front of the Moores!” Peter finished, and the crowd erupted into laughter.
“And that wasn’t even the only van we destroyed,” Wade added, resting his elbow on Logan’s shoulder. “Right, Logi Bear?”
Oh . That story. “Right,” Logan answered, forcing a smile. The crowd laughed again, but Wade eyed Logan.
“You doing alright?” he said, voice low so only the older mutant could hear.
Logan shook his head and set the beer in his hand on a nearby table. “I’m gonna head out.”
Wade got the message immediately. “I’ll let Peter know we’re leaving.”
“It’s fine,” Logan said. “I can make it home. Stay, have fun.”
When Wade eyed him, dubious, Logan leaned in. “You are going to be bound to me for a week . It’s only three blocks. I can walk that far if I leave now.”
“ No detours. Straight home,” Wade instructed, as if Logan had any desire to go anywhere but home.
“Sure, bub,” Logan said with a small smile, and with a wave to Peter, he left the pub and headed for home.
The late August air was starting to take on an autumn chill in the evenings, and Logan didn’t realize how warm he’d been in the pub. The slight breeze felt like heaven when it hit his flushed skin, cooling the sweat that was already starting to bead at his hairline. He wasn’t horny yet , though that could change in an instant. Best to hurry, just in case.
Logan shoved his hands in his pockets, put his head down, and began the short walk home. He had promised Wade no detours, but the haze made it easy to take wrong turns. It wasn’t long before he realized he’d turned a block too early.
“Shit,” he muttered, running his hands down his face. It felt like the entire world had a soft focus filter on, all blurred lines and bright colors. And the smells…the smells were always so intense in heat. Exhaust and refuse mixed with hot oil from the food vendors, underneath an overwhelming layer of musky humanity. He leaned his forehead against the side of the bodega he’d stopped in front of, trying to catch his breath.
Should he have had Wade walk him home? He thought he had enough time to make the trek. Maybe he should call Wade and wait here, just to be safe…Logan was already reaching into his pocket to get his phone, but he suddenly took a breath—and a new smell hit him like a ton of bricks.
It wasn’t something he had smelled in over a year, and it had been far longer since the scent had been this intense. Alpha .
That cut through the haze like a hot knife through butter. He jerked his head up, looking around. What was an alpha doing here ? Were they from his world? Another world that just so happened to produce humans who could make that exact smell ?
And worse, could the alpha smell him ? Undoubtedly. An omega in heat was like blood in the water. If Logan was close enough to smell them, they could smell him.
A steady stream of curses fell from his lips, and he yanked his hand out of his pocket. He couldn’t wait for Wade. Just get home, and get home fast . Hopefully the alpha would leave him alone. He turned on his heel and hustled back up the sidewalk, eyes peeled for anyone who might be eyeing him.
Logan reached the corner and turned right, risking a glance over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. His gaze landed on a man in his late thirties, wearing a slightly disheveled but obviously tailored suit, his blonde hair swept into a side part. It was the man’s eyes that really caught Logan’s attention, though; a blue so pale they were almost white, locked with his. The alpha smirked, and Logan glared back.
He was a few doors away from the apartment. So close, yet so far. But maybe the alpha wasn’t following him. Maybe they just happened to be going in the same direction. A pipe dream, but Logan needed to be sure. He looked both ways before darting across the street. The alpha didn’t even look, stepping directly into traffic without slowing.
“ Fuck !” Logan ground his teeth. He couldn’t have some random alpha follow him home. With an irritated growl, Logan turned into an alley two doors away from the one he needed. He pressed his back against the brick wall, waiting for the alpha to follow.
And the man did, predictably, turning the corner with a cocky, fearless stride. Logan was nearing his threshold, and the overwhelming, utterly intoxicating scent of the alpha was not helping. He had no desire to draw this out. The moment the alpha was fully in the alley, Logan threw his elbow between the man’s shoulder blades and sent him sprawling to the ground.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down,” he snarled. The alpha propped himself up on his hands and looked up at Logan with his unnerving blue-white eyes.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll join me,” the alpha purred. “Now tell me, what’s an omega like you doing in a backwater timeline like this?”
Logan’s expression settled into a withering glare. “I could ask you the same fucking thing.”
“I could spell it out for you, if you’d like. I have a very talented tongue.”
“Just leave me the fuck alone.”
The alpha smiled coyly. “At a time like this? Alone and in heat ? That’s the last thing you want.”
It was becoming harder to think around the alpha’s scent. “Fuck you,” Logan spit, because they were the only words he could form. The alpha chuckled.
“Such a bold omega.” He tilted his head, looking appraisingly at the mutant before him. “A collar would look lovely around that neck.”
Logan was done. With a feral growl, he unsheathed the claws on his left hand and drove them through the alpha’s leg. The alpha’s crystalline eyes widened with genuine shock and pain.
“You want to leave here with all your limbs still attached? Leave. Me. Alone .” He yanked his claws out with a wet squelch . Blood spattered on the cement and the lower part of Logan’s jeans. The alpha instantly leaned forward to put pressure on the wound, looking up at the mutant towering over him. And despite the blood leaking from his leg, he smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.
“You’re going to be fun ,” he said in a husky whisper. Logan briefly considered separating the man’s head from his shoulders, but between the alpha’s scent and Logan’s own rapidly blooming heat, he didn’t think he actually had it in him at this moment. So instead, he straightened and, with a last “Fuck you” thrown over his shoulder, he left the alley and returned to the apartment, leaving the bloodied and grinning alpha behind.