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“Fuck, Logan– you wanna come, babygirl? I know you’re close.”
Wade thrusted into him from behind and Logan’s knees dipped further into the mattress as he dropped to his elbows.
Wade’s hot breath scalded his neck, and Logan’s dick fucking hurt he was so turned on.
But Logan couldn’t come.
Well, it wasn’t that he couldn’t come at all, more like, it took so goddamn long to get him there, it was almost never worth the effort or the time.
It’s really quite simple, Hank had told him once, when Logan had worked up the balls to ask him if he could find an explanation. To Hank, it was a basic overcorrection on the part of Logan’s healing factor. Any slight interruption in stimulation fucked with his nervous system just enough to keep him a step back from the edge.
More often than not, Logan had to get himself off when the tension had built up to the point where he needed something. It took hours of specific attention by way of his own hand, and acute mental focus to let himself lose control. Occasionally Logan had to block out an afternoon to work himself raw and release the attention that built in his stomach.
Logan had learned to accept his reality, and while he hadn’t given up on sex–obviously, since he was fucking Wade–Logan had long since accepted that he preferred to focus on his partner in the moment and deal with his blueballs later when he had enough time to mentally recreate the image and fuck his hand for a good long time.
But fuck, right now he could almost convince himself he was was close.
Wade was a rare partner with enough stamina to keep his pace and go on for much longer than the average. They’d been going at it for at least twenty minutes, probably more, given they had already made it nine songs deep in their playlist.
Logan felt good, skin tingling with every drag of Wade’s fingertips over his skin, heart hammering in his chest with every drag of the tip of his dick over the coarse blanket below him.
“Fucking shitballs– I’m gonna come, Peanut. Gonna come all over that perfect, massive, fucking glorious ass, babygirl.”
Wade was panting in his ear, balls slapping against Logan’s ass, hips thrusting Wade right into that spot that made Logan want to melt into the sheets. Logan grabbed at his own dick, rubbing himself roughly, almost to the point of oversensitivity. He knew it wouldn’t do much to bring him any closer to the edge, but it felt damn good regardless.
“Fuck, Logan–”
Three thrusts later, Wade came, heat spilling inside of Logan, hips stuttering forward a few times as he let out a, frankly, sinful moan right into Logan’s ear.
Logan’s cock–still achingly hard, and probably purple–twitched in interest at Wade’s breathy whimper as he pulled his dick out.
“Fuck, Peanut. I give that a solid eight-point-five out of ten,” Wade said, hands splayed out on Logan’s ass, fingers digging into the skin, thumbs so close to Logan’s rim. Fuck, he wanted Wade to keep going, keeping fucking into him and drilling into that spot that made him go wild.
“Get off me,” Logan growled instead, hoping Wade would get up and find him a towel while he took a moment to compose himself. That’s how it usually worked, but usually it was just a quick fuck.
Althea had gone to stay at a casino with friends that night, they had all the time in the world, and Logan had the sense that Wade wanted to use it. There were very few nights they didn’t have to worry about the volume level, and admittedly, it was a relief to let loose.
The hands on Logan’s ass didn’t move, save for squeezing his skin a little bit, Wade’s fingertips slipping a bit closer to Logan’s sensitive hole.
“Don’t move. Don’t you fucking dare or I swear to god I will throw a tantrum and that will sure as shit ruin the moment.”
Logan groaned, because his rim was covered in Wade’s spend, and his thighs were straining from, holding himself ass-up for the better part of thirty minutes. Not that Logan minded–he loved when Wade fucked him–but he was pent up, balls swollen, stomach twisting with the need for release even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen.
Keeping himself on display for Wade wasn’t exactly helping to distract Logan from that very fact.
“Why the fuck do I need to stay like this?” Logan asked, voice gruff and raw, head hanging down as he tried to ignore the tightness in his abdomen and the cool air running over his exposed skin.
“Because it’s your turn to come, sweetheart.”
Wade’s voice was closer, almost right in Logan’s ear. The proximity sent a shiver down his spine, and Logan inhaled a shuddering breath.
“Wade, you know I won’t fucking–”
“Bullshit.”
Logan coughed out an aborted laugh; Wade said it so matter-of-factly, like any of his previous attempts had worked. Newsflash, they hadn’t.
“What do you mean, bullshit? I haven’t come once since all …this started.”
Wade scoffed, “Sure, but that was when we were just fucking, now you’re my boyfriend. I am legally obligated to fuck an orgasm out of you now.”
Logan would have rolled his eyes if Wade would see it, but he closed them instead, gritting his teeth and willing his solid dick to lose at least a little of its volume.
“Well too bad, shit-head,” Logan growled out, unsure what the fuck Wade was doing. He’d disappeared from Logan’s side, and now was shuffling around on the bed like the annoying little prick he was, “It isn’t going to happen whether you want it to or not.”
Wade didn’t fucking care, which was made immediately obvious when a warm, greedy tongue found its way into the cleft of his ass, right where Wade’s come was painted over his skin.
“Fuck that’s –Wade.”
He was going to protest, because he was so close to convincing his cock to fuck off, but Wade’s tongue spread flat over his rim, flicking over him in long stripes and fuck, Logan’s dick was back to being more than interested.
And somehow the fact that Wade was licking him clean made it that much worse, tongue lapping up every drop of his own come.
It hardly lasted more than a minute, just enough time for Logan to try and press himself back into Wade’s face before his tongue disappeared.
Wade licked his lips, Logan could hear the filthy smacking sound clear as day. Fuck.
“All set, sweetcheeks, I wanted a clean slate,” Wade muttered, pulling back and patting Logan so very lightly on the ass, “Now, on your back. I have plans.”
Logan arched an eyebrow, but followed the instructions anyway, maneuvering off of his quivering thighs, and onto his back, sweaty hair pressed into the pillow. He knew he must have looked fucked out and pink, but Wade looked even better, fucking delectable.
“Hi, Peanut,” Wade whispered with a red-lipped half-smile and pupils the size of the moon, “Think you got another, say, hour or two of energy left in you?”
Logan’s heart skipped a beat, because fuck, he was tired already, but Wade was naked and willing and offering to spend the time to take him apart. So Logan nodded softly, watching Wade with wide, unrestrained eyes.
“Thank fuck. I need time to figure this,” Wade waved his hand at Logan’s body, “Out.”
Logan snorted and reached for his cock, giving it a few tugs, “Good luck. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, it probably won’t happen. Don’t get your hopes up.”
Wade made a face, some mix between irritation and arrogance, then wrenched Logan’s hand away from his dick.
“Don’t need luck when you have a little something called natural sexual skill . And stop fucking playing with yourself, it’s distracting me.”
Logan grunted, but placed his hands back at his sides, balling them into fists.
“Good boy,” Wade said casually, stroking Logan's calves with the tips of his fingers, “Now before we start, any tips and tricks you would like to offer up before I go spelunking?”
Raising an eyebrow, Logan considered the question, and briefly, the implication of the use of the word spelunking .
He considered telling Wade about his usual jerk-off marathons he performed every few months, sessions that usually ended in somewhat painful relief rather than pleasure, but that’s hardly what he wanted from a partner. Hell, he’d never had a partner make him come to begin with.
Instead, he shrugged, “Haven’t spent much time focusing on making it feel good.”
Wade’s fingers paused in their rhythmic strokes over his legs, “What’s the point of choking the chicken if you don’t even try to make it fun?”
He stared at Wade, “Relief? Satisfaction?”
Logan was growing irritated, his cock flagging just a touch with all the questions and discussion when really he just needed Wade to fucking touch him already.
“Look–if you’re gonna keep asking questions, I’m definitely not going to even come close, so you–
“Noted. Fuck,” Wade interrupted, pressing Logan’s knees open wider, then pushing his them up so his feet laid flat on the bed. Logan clenched his hands at his sides as he watched Wade reach for the lube again.
Wade crawled in between Logan’s legs, flopping down on his stomach, lips pressing over Logan's thighs, mouthing over the hairy skin, moving closer and closer to that sensitive space right in the crease between his thigh and his belly.
“In that case, behold, step one of operation lorgasm,” Wade announced, a couple of cold, slicked up fingers finding their way to Logan’s rim and pressing inside him with more ease than usual, still somewhat loose despite having begun healing, “Massage the tension out.”
What the fuck did that mean? And lorgasm?
Logan opened his mouth to ask, but he was immediately distracted by the drag of two fingers right over his prostate, teasing the area at first, then pressing harder, digits scrubbing over the spot in short but firm strokes. He tried to suppress the moan that caught in his throat, but there wasn’t much he could do to hide the look on his face.
“Too scared to make a little noise, Peanut? I promise you'll be begging by the time I’m through with you.”
Wade’s punchable smile from between his thighs was too far for Logan to claw at it.
“Fuck you,” Logan growled back at him instead.
“Not tonight, sweetie pie. Unless that would make you come, but we established I’m not a natural bottom, and I don’t know how I feel about being fucked for over an hour. One time Vanessa fucked me with a strap-on for like–”
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan demanded, jolting under the dual sensations of Wade’s hot breath hovering just over the tip of his dick and the pads of his fingers tracing over the raw edge of his rim, “Thinking about your ex fucking you isn’t gonna make me come either.”
“Fine. Fine,” Wade sighed loudly, then wrapped his hands around Logan’s right thigh, forcing his leg upward against his stomach and chest and exposing his hole to the cold air. It felt obscene, and fuck it probably looked even more obscene than it felt.
Logan felt like a piece of art on display in a museum, exposed and open, unable to hide from the gaze of the patrons. Wade was his only patron, of course, but the greedy little smile on his ever-so-fucking red lips, and his blown-out pupils made Logan stomach twist with unease, cheeks growing warm.
Thankfully, Wade didn’t tease him about it, instead using his mouth to lick over Logan’s balls, sucking one into his mouth for just a fraction of a second.
And fucking fuck.
It was so fucking good.
Nevermind the burning heat in Logan’s stomach, it was the sight of Wade alone that sent Logan spiraling into a wave of need, desire, thirst.
Logan momentarily forgot how to breathe, a shuddering intake of air catching in his lungs as he narrowed his eyes, watching Wade bury his nose coarse hair, then press his closed lips over one ball, then the other.
“Good boys.”
Jesus fucking christ.
Wade pushed his fingers in and out shallowly for some time, not quite reaching for Logan’s prostate, but instead rubbing all around it. Only when Logan opened his mouth to try and get Wade to do something, did Wade sweep them all the way in, curling his fingertips up just enough to rub hard against that spot inside Logan that made his stomach lurch with a fresh wave of electric arousal.
“I’m gonna touch you here. For a long fucking time. All you need to do is sit back and take it like a good boy.”
Wade looked up at him looking fucking sinful and perfect and like he was enjoying touching Logan just as much as Logan was basking in the pleasure of being touched.
Logan whined, drowning in the sincerity of Wade’s words, reminding himself not to tense.
A hand pressed his left leg upward against his chest, just the same as his right leg, and Wade sat upward for a moment, reaching for Logan’s hands.
“Hold these for a little while, babygirl, I need some space to work my magic.”
He followed instructions, but Logan felt flayed open, a pathetic little whimper escaping through his lips when Wade’s touch disappeared for just a brief second. Logan nervously sucked a breath through his teeth and averted his eyes, trying not to let Wade’s gaze catch on his own.
Wade wasn’t kidding and hadn’t been leading Logan on. No– Wade was back to laying on the bed, warm breath grazing over Logan’s red cock, with no intention of easing up. He’d been serious about wanting Logan to come; the first person to ever be serious about it.
For being the least serious person Logan had agreed to fuck, Wade was the most interested in fucking like he meant it. Wade treated Logan like he was desirable and attractive and more than just a giant dick to fuck himself on.
And fucking damnit if that didn’t turn Logan on even more.
Wade resumed the brutal drag of his fingers, relentlessly working him over with a speed and pressure that made each stroke feel better than the next.
“That feels nice, Peanut?” Wade’s voice was wrecked, scratchy, deep.
In the absence of any clear thoughts forming in his mind, Logan whined, painfully aware of the little drop of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.
“Oh it must feel a little more than nice then,” Wade cooed at him, the pace of his fingers far from slowing down.
Logan didn’t know how long Wade kept up the rhythm, rubbing firmly back and forth, over and over like a never-ending machine made to fuck into him until he was a sobbing, pitiful mess. It could have been an hour, Logan could hardly tell, but blistering, unexplainable heat had started to build in the base of his belly.
It was an unfamiliar sensation. When Logan fucked his hand, it didn’t feel like this.
It didn’t usually feel like he was systematically being taken apart, or like a searing, perfect pleasure curling around his spine, making his every muscle melt. Everything felt good, even the hints of pain when Wade’s fingernails caught on his rim, or when teeth dragged over his swollen shaft when he occasionally mouthed over Logan’s dick.
For once, Logan let himself go, throwing his head back against the pillow, and sacrificing his body to each twitch, every single breathy moan that spewed from his mouth without his permission. That only seemed to encourage Wade more, and sloppy, wet lips were dragging up from the base of his cock and spreading around the head.
Hips jolting upward, Logan stifled a sob, daring to crack open his eyes only to find the image of Wade’s tongue lapping over the slit, dipping into the mess of precum, sucking it into his mouth like it was the most delicious fucking dessert he’d ever tasted.
“Never had a lollipop like this. It’s a little salty,” Wade said, licking his lips. Fuck it was hot when he did that and Logan’s dick twitched appropriately.
Wade raised a nonexistent eyebrow.
“But so fucking delicious. Wonder how good it will taste when I make you come.”
Logan’s dick twitched right back into Wade’s mouth, leaking again, drooling all over Wade’s lips and down his chin.
It was a dual assault, fingers and lips everywhere, relentlessly forcing Logan into a state. Warm, wetness dripped onto Logan’s stomach, Wade milking it right out of him with every deep, satisfying press of his fingers.
Then it all fucking stopped.
The addictive drag of Wade’s fingers came to a halt, and the warm cavern of Wade’s mouth disappeared all in a split second. Logan’s thighs quivered as he released a shuddering groan because what the fuck.
“Wade?”
He forced his eyes open, blinking a few times to clear out his blurred vision.
“Fuck–I’ll be right back princess. I just need–”
Logan didn’t hear the rest of what Wade said, too distracted by the needy jerk of his near-purple cock against the plane of his stomach with the word princess. He felt close, closer than he’d ever felt when someone else was involved.
Wade returned seconds later, one hand pressing over the center of Logan’s stomach–so fucking close to his leaking dick, Logan wanted to buck into him, fuck– and leaned over top of him.
“I have a little surprise. And no, before you ask, it does not involve my piss like last time.”
Logan grunted, too aroused to be annoyed, and shifted his hips a little, desperation ripping through his veins.
“Just fucking get on with it.”
Wade offered a sickly sweet smile, “Such a demanding little bitch.”
A pillow was forced under Logan’s ass, and his feet were arranged so he was held open wide, legs splayed to the sides. It felt indecent before, but Logan had to imagine he looked particularly fucked out now. His rim felt tender and his stomach was covered in the remnants of precome that Wade hadn’t licked off of him; imagining the obscenity made Logan’s fingers tremble by his sides.
Only Wade was allowed to see him like that.
“Oh fuck, Peanut.”
Logan’s eyes traced the ceiling as Wade’s fingers traced his sensitive rim again, only dipping into him just enough to tease.
“You are so fucking pretty. God–you’re all red and–”
Wade gasped–a fucking stupid, comical gasp–and leaned forward to lap at the little pool of white caught in Logan’s stomach.
“Can’t have that going to waste.”
It shouldn’t have made Logan whine, but it did, because Wade was a lewd motherfucker and Logan drank it up like six bottles of shitty whiskey on a friday night.
“Now–surprise time.”
There was no time to process the strange sensation of something– not Wade’s fingers–pushing inside of him. In fact, whatever object it was, it was smaller in size than even the girth of two of Wade’s fingers and it slid in with ease, Logan fucked open enough to take it easily.
“Holy shit look at that,” Wade wheezed, “Fuck, I’m so hard for that specifically–”
“Move,” Logan demanded, bucking his hips to take more of the presumed toy.
Wade–the annoying little shit–fully laughed at the demand. Logan growled at him, lifting his hips again, trying and failing to create some friction against his prostate.
“Before you make demands, perhaps you should at least know what you’re getting yourself into, princess,” Wade tutted.
Logan would have lurched upward to stab Wade in the fucking neck, but here was a tiny click and then–
Fucking shit.
The toy came to life, buzzing loudly, vibrating inside Logan and rubbing against his walls in a way that sent a resounding shout pouring from his mouth and his hips flying upward.
It felt good–then beyond good–and it wasn’t even pressed up against his prostate. It was nothing like being fucked, and nothing like anything Logan had ever felt before.
Wade fucked it into him once, a shallow movement that only barely brushed over the edge of Logan’s prostate, but it still sent him reeling, a gasp on his tongue, mouth open and head pressed back into the pillow. Logan could feel Wade’s gaze.
He needed more, needed to know how good the vibration would feel pressed right up against that spot–
“Fuck Logan, I might come. I wasn’t even planning on it, but you can’t just look like that. Should be illegal to look like that in at least forty-seven states.”
Wade fucked the toy in and out, like a goddamn tease, and Logan took it, words lost inside his mind behind a layer of so-fucking-good-I-need-more. The toy only ever hit the very edge of his prostate, never pressing right up against it, and if Logan had any control over his vocal cords, he would have begged Wade for more.
“You wanna feel good, wolvie?” Wade whispered, his body suddenly draped over Logan’s, warm breath skating over Logan’s ear before Wade bit down on the sensitive flesh of his earlobe.
“You’re already taking it so well, I’m gonna fuck the come right out of you.”
Logan wanted that. No–he fucking needed it. He was right there, pressing closer to the edge, on the brink of satisfaction, and maybe even the brink of crying, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
Wade shoved the toy in shallowly once, twice, then right into that spot, holding it still to grind into him, hammering against his prostate over and over and–
Fuck, he might actually come.
A moan was ripped from Logan’s chest, his hips stuttering upward into the sensation. There were lips sucking on his dickhead, and fingers rubbing over his perineum, and little whispers of good boy, so fucking perfect, pretty princess, oh fucking hell–
It was so much, like a rainstorm of sensations building into a booming roll of thunder, and Logan felt himself lose control, muscles limp, inhibitions all but a memory.
There was nothing except Wade.
Wade was the only thing on his mind, the only thing captured by his tunneling vision. Wade’s tongue flicking over the leaking slit of his cock, then whispering the filthiest words into the air between them.
The conglomerate of everything was sending him toward the edge, Logan could feel that twist in his stomach, the beginnings of static electricity coursing through his veins, and his claws splitting through his skin like they often did when his nervous system was overloaded.
There was an audible choking sigh from in between Logan’s legs and against his sensitive dick.
“Oh my god! Fuck–I wasn’t expecting these to make an appearance but I am elated. Put them in me please–”
Logan had already made a move to shove his claws in Wade, spearing them into the man’s shoulders and dragging him downward onto his cock.
“Wade–” Logan whined, “Need–I fucking need–”
Logan couldn’t finish the words, drawing in quick gulps of air, the twinge of release right there in front of him, if only he could simply reach out and take it.
Wade sucked him down, tip tapping the back of his throat, then pulled all the way off of him with a glint in his eyes.
“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe. I’m gonna get you there.”
Logan believed him, he was too fucking gone to think otherwise, so he let his claws rest where they were lodged in Wade’s shoulders and let himself be taken care of.
“Please.”
There was another resounding click, and the vibrations doubled their efforts, abusing his already sensitive prostate, forcing another stream of precome from his throbbing cock. Wade ground the toy into him harder, licked right into his slit, pressed his fingers against that space just under Logan’s balls just fucking right–
With a half-swallowed cry, and tears leaking down his cheeks, Logan fucking came.
It felt like a release of years of pent up energy, like pure fire scraping through his muscles, like every thought in his brain dissipated into a heady mist. He came right into Wade’s mouth, coating his filthy lips with endless white ropes.
Logan watched it happen as pleasure splintered up his spine, forcing him to submit to its will.
It felt like floating and drowning, head held underwater, body drifting somewhere in the clouds. Wade said something, but Logan couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even place which direction the sound had come from.
Logan didn’t push for lucidity, not when he couldn’t feel his legs, not when his skin prickled and his vision was blurry. Instead, he basked in the in between of feeling everything and nothing at all.
It wasn’t just relief this time, it was ecstasy and perfect satisfaction intertwined with that aching tug in his stomach that told him that maybe he felt something like love for Wade.
Wade whose chatter slowly spilled into Logan’s consciousness. Wade who had brought him right up to the edge, then threw him over it with not an ounce of fucking mercy.
“So good, babygirl. Coming all over yourself. I’m burning this into my memory right the fuck now. Might need to write about it in my super secret journal later. Fuck.”
Wade had cleaned him up, dragged him to the bathroom for a quick–but extremely necessary–shower, and changed the sheets while Logan melted into the chair in the corner of their room, bathrobe wrapped around him loosely.
Wade wouldn’t fucking shut up, going on and on like a fucking radio host talking about everything from the look on Logan’s face to the plans he had to fuck the next orgasm out of him.
Logan mostly ignored him, still riding the high of release, but happy to watch Wade smile at him with rosy cheeks and that stupid fucking smile on his lips.
It occurred to Logan again, with a different type of stirring in the pit of his stomach, that maybe he did actually love Wade.
A part of him had considered that desire and arousal could easily be mistaken for love in the heat of the moment. But Logan wanted Wade all the time, wanted to fall asleep in his arms, wanted to make him breakfast and kiss the stain of chocolate syrup off of the corner of his lips. Logan wanted Wade to crawl into his lap on the sofa and wash his hair in the bathtub.
Logan would take everything Wade had to give.
Logan would give everything that Wade would take from him.
“You alive over there, big guy? Or did I fuck the will to live right out of you? The Wolverine can die happy now–”
But fuck Wade was stupidly annoying too. Even if he did frequently make Logan’s heart skip a fucking beat or two.
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan interrupted him with a ragged bark, his own voice unrecovered yet. Pushing himself up, Logan fell into the freshly made bed where Wade held up the covers for him. He dropped into his freshly fluffed pillow face-first, exhaustion settling into his shoulders.
“I can’t. Not in these circumstances. I don’t think I can stop talking about this for the next three business months. At least.”
Logan turned his head to the side when Wade’s weight dipped into the bed, then glared at him.
Wade–the motherfucking prick–laughed in his face and ruffled his hair, “Don’t even have a retort for me, princess? Not even a single fucking unoriginal insult like usual? I’m starting to believe I may have accidentally sanded down part of your brain in the process of giving you that absolutely mind-blowing, incomparable orgasm.”
Logan swatted at him with a groan, “How ‘bout this,” he grumbled, poking Wade harshly in the bicep, “You keep talking about this and I can make sure you don’t get to come on a regular basis, princess.”
Wade clapped a shocked hand over his chest, “I am astonished at the level of doubt you have for my untouched-orgasm abilities. I almost just creamed my pants when you called me princess.”
“Wade, I will stab you in the fucking cock.”
“Even better–”
Snikt.