Work Text:
Wade really isn’t a natural bottom.
He really, honest to god, isn’t. He definitely prefers topping, but can be versatile when the situation calls for it, and oh boy…
Logan’s situation does.
You see, Logan had a bad case of what we like to call good ol’ internalized homophobia and he had it bad. He’s made it very clear from the start of him and Wade fucking around in the last few weeks that he, quote, ‘likes men, but ain’t a fuckin’ fairy.’
Wade gets what he means, but fuck, if that isn’t one of the most problematic ways to say it. Bombastic side-eye. Criminally offensive side-eye, even.
And does Wade blame him? Not really. The old bastard was born in the 1800s, so it’s not surprising that he’s so obsessed with his masculinity. It was probably quite literally beaten into him at points, Wade assumed.
So Wade let some of the little things slide. And even if the sex was never tender (always rough, hard, and kinda mean), he wasn’t gonna complain. It was still good dick, and Wade had a little bit of a degradation kink anyways.
But when Logan started making rude ass remarks outside of sex, it started to piss Wade off.
Comments about how a gay man in a TikTok that Wade was watching had an ‘irritating’ voice, then something about how a guy at the grocery store was wearing makeup, and more recently telling Wade to “turn that fucking shit off” in regards to an episode of Drag Race.
The straw that finally broke the camel's back was when Wade was planning on going out to some club with the girls for Yukio’s birthday. Obviously, he was all dolled up and ready to go, but Logan just had to open his big stupid fucking mouth.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
Wade rolled his eyes, turning towards the other who was standing in the kitchen, holding a bottle of beer. He had a look of… not necessarily disgust, but he was certainly judging Wade.
“What? This?” Wade gestured towards his own clothes, a red crop top with a black cropped jacket and his tightest black jeans. “This is a pretty tame outfit for a club, peanut. It’s not even close to the sluttiest thing I own, but unfortunately it’s the end of fall and a hoe does, in fact, get cold.”
“Yeah, okay,” Logan muttered, and went back to drinking his beer, scrolling through whatever app he had open on his phone.
Wade felt that flare of irritation well back up, but instead of starting a fight right now and being late, he decided to just walk out without another word. He was kinda proud of himself for that one, because oh boy, he was pissed!
Because what the fuck? It wasn’t necessarily a mean thing to say, but Wade was sick of Logan’s homophobic bullshit and the whole time he was at the club he was positively fuming over the whole interaction. But he managed to put on a happy face and the girls had a good time, so that’s all that matters.
By the time he made it home, he was honestly exhausted and ready to just go the fuck to sleep. Unfortunately, Logan was already in bed.
Logan never actually goes to sleep before Wade, actually managing to have worse insomnia, so this could only mean that Logan wanted to fuck.
Wade was still pissed though, seriously debating just sleeping in the tub at the thought of giving his ass up for that jerk, until a lightbulb went off in his head.
If Wade was a villain, now would be the point where he hunches over and rubs his hands together, evilly.
So, Wade went through his normal little bedtime routine of just brushing his teeth and stripping down to his underwear before hopping into bed, and the moment Logan’s hands make contact with his skin, Wade smacks them away.
Logan makes a noise of confusion, and Wade sits up, turning towards him with a frown.
“No, I’m not bottoming tonight.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah, you were being a total fucking dick earlier, you’re not fucking me tonight.”
“What are you talking about? When?”
“Earlier today! Literally right before I went out. You were being a big fat jerk about my cute little outfit, and you hurt my feelings.”
Logan rolls his eyes, sitting up to match Wade, “Oh what the fuck ever. I didn’t mean anything by it, you’re just being sensitive.”
“See! You’re being a jerk again!” Wade points an accusing finger at him. “I’m not the fucking sensitive one, you’re the one who can’t stand the thought of not being the pinnacle of ‘a real man’ and keep projecting it on to other people, including me. Your masculinity is so fucking fragile that you even refuse to bottom for me.”
“Oh, my bad for not wanting to be somebody’s bitch!” Logan was getting defensive, Wade noticed. His shoulders were tense, arms now folded across his chest.
“So what does that make me then, huh? Your bitch?”
“Don’t twist my fucking words, bub.”
“I’m not twisting shit, motherfucker. You know what I think? I think you’re too scared to do it.”
It was too easy.
“Excuse me?”
It was positively delicious, getting Logan all riled up. Much like waving a big fat bone in front of a caged dog. The way that he can see it in Logan’s eyes, knows the gears in his head are turning, trying to keep up. But where Logan is often the immovable object, Wade is the unstoppable force.
“Yeah, I think you’re too scared. The big bad Wolverine is too much of a pussy to get a dick up his ass like the rest of us queers.”
“I’m not too scared-“
“Then let me fuck you.”
“No.”
“Then you get nothing. Conversation over. Goodnight.” And with that, Wade lays back down, rolling over and away from Logan.
In his head, Wade was counting down from 10, a very generous estimate of how long until Logan gave up. Because Wade may be insatiable, but Logan was an untrained dog.
He made it all the way to ‘4’ when Logan cracked.
“You know what? Fine. Since you’re so fucking butthurt about whatever it was I said earlier, fine, I’ll fucking bottom for you.”
The absolutely devious grin that Wade wore in his mind’s eye would put the Joker to shame, but if he couldn’t hold a poker face then what kind of mercenary was he?
He turned to look over his shoulder, and met Logan’s steely gaze, raising a hairless brow, looking bored. “You sure? Thought you didn’t wanna be anyone’s bitch?”
“You’re not bitching me, I’m doing you a favor.”
“Sure thing, peanut,” he sits up, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Logan scoffs, but removes his boxers anyways, the only article of clothing he was wearing. He moves to sit with his legs folded underneath him, but Wade moves quicker.
In less than a second, he’s pushed down onto his chest, arms pinned firmly behind him, ass left high in the air. If they were anywhere else but the bed, it would have knocked the wind out of him. He immediately begins to struggle against Wade’s grip, but unfortunately for him he does not have the upper hand, as Wade has all the leverage and is just as strong.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls out, obviously pissed but the flush creeping up his face tells Wade that he hasn’t missed the mark.
“What do you mean? Thought you liked it rough, Logan? Thought you didn’t like all that tender bullshit?”
The lack of pet names was intentional. Wade meant business now that he had been given explicit consent, even if it wasn’t as enthusiastic as he would have liked. But Wade didn’t miss the slight twitch of Logan’s cock.
“Just get the fucking lube, asshole.”
“So pushy,” he muttered, switching his grip on Logan’s wrists to hold both in one hand, allowing him to lean over to the bedside drawer and fish out the nearly empty bottle. Logan was still pretty tense, but wasn’t struggling anymore.
“If I let you go, are you going to stab me?”
“I’m still thinking it over.”
Wade knew that was his way of saying “no” and let his wrists go, not at all surprised when Logan pushed himself up onto his hands. Too bad, Wade was genuinely appreciating that arch he had going on.
Now, to preface this, Wade would never not prep his partners beforehand unless they specifically asked him not to do it. Because, let it be known, he’s not exactly small. In fact, he is noticeably above average, somewhere around 8 inches fully erect with a decent girth, if he said so himself. So yeah, usually a little bit of preparing was needed.
But knowing Logan as well as he did… Well.
He popped the lube open, thoroughly coating himself with the slick substance, and lined himself up, taking a moment to rub the head around Logan’s hole.
He almost felt bad, knowing he was probably taking Logan’s anal virginity like this. Almost. He’d try to feel bad about it later when he wasn’t still a little bit pissed off.
With one hand on Logan’s hip, the other holding his dick, he began to push in, only to be met with a tense resistance. Logan’s whole body was tensed up, arms trembling slightly, head hanging low.
“You gotta relax, can’t even get my dick in you like this.” It came out a little more tender than Wade had anticipated, the hand that was on Logan’s hip trailing up to rest between his shoulder blades. “Would probably help if you stopped holding yourself up like that.”
Logan threw a glare over his shoulder, not nearly as threatening as he wanted it to be, “fuck off, I’m not letting you put me in a position like that.”
Wade simply shrugged in response and forced himself inside an inch or so, gripping one of Logan’s shoulders harshly to keep him from pulling away.
“Ah!- Fuck!” Logan’s own hand flew up to his mouth, fruitlessly trying to muffle himself.
Out of the kindness of his heart, Wade gave him a few seconds to adjust, his own breathing coming in short, hot pants. The absolute grip around his dick would have made a lesser man bust by now.
“Goddamn peanut, you really are a fucking virgin,” he groaned out, squeezing Logan’s shoulder. “Gotta fucking relax or it’ll never feel good.”
“Shut the fuck up,” was all Logan managed to say, quiet and almost whiny.
“Aww, what’s that?” He leaned in over Logan’s back to whisper in his ear, sliding the rest of the way in. It earned him a punched out groan from the other man, and a wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Speak up babygirl, I can’t hear you.”
Wade could honestly say he was a little bit surprised. He definitely expected Logan to grit his way through most of it, thought there would be a lot more of a power struggle. So for Logan to have turned into a whiny little bitch in less than…hm, 10 seconds of fucking him? Well, it was decidedly a treat.
And fuck- Logan was red. From what Wade could actually see of his face, his cheeks and ears were flush red, trailing down the sides of his neck and over his shoulders. And the heat that radiated off of him? Wade could cook an egg on the other man’s skin.
So was it mean of him to start off with such a brutal pace? Some would argue yes. Others, himself included, would say that it was entirely deserved.
It was a lesson, a way of taking Logan’s ego down a notch or two.
Wade could dish it out just as well as he could take it, and didn’t hold back, one hand gripping Logan’s hip and the other holding his shoulder. The slap of skin on skin was hypnotic.
But despite how rough he was being, he did want Logan to have a good time, so he changed angles ever so slightly in between every other thrust until Logan’s arms quite literally gave out and he let out the most pathetic noise. Bingo.
Dog meet bone.
“Oh Logan, you should see yourself right now. Want me to describe it to you?” He glanced over towards the full-length mirror across the room. “Or should I make you look at yourself?”
He felt Logan clamp down around him and chuckled lowly, sliding his hand from Logan’s shoulder up into the hair at the nape of his neck. He gripped it harshly and forced Logan to turn his head towards the mirror.
Logan was decidedly a mess, hair clinging to his forehead, eyes glassy and half lidded, panting and gasping every time Wade nails his prostate. His cock hung heavy between his legs, as flushed red as his face and leaking precum down onto the sheets.
“Look at you…” Wade cooed. “So pathetic, like a sad little dog. Isn’t that right? Got you bent over for me, made you my bitch and look, you’re fucking dripping like a girl. Bet I can make you cum just from fucking your ass like this.”
Logan’s body trembled beneath him, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Aside from the choked off moans and panting, he was decidedly a little too quiet, still trying to muffle himself with a hand. Wade was going to fix that.
The hand that was still gripping Logan’s hip in a bruising force reached up and grabbed the wrist of the offending hand, pulling it behind his back.
“That’s better. I wanna hear you. C’mon Logan, tell me. How does it feel to be the big bad Wolverine, and having to be put in his fucking place? Does it feel good?”
Wade put all of his feelings of frustration into his thrusts, and it showed with how Logan’s whole body jolted forward with the power behind each slap of skin. It was cathartic, even if he would have preferred his first time topping Logan to be a little more romantic.
The thing is, if Logan didn’t want this, or wanted to stop at any point, it would be easy for him to throw Wade off. And even then, at the first sign of real resistance, he’d stop, because he’s not a fucking monster.
But Logan wanted this. Even now, as tears well up in his big brown eyes and drip down his face.
And maybe it was a little twisted, but Wade swore his dick got harder at the sight.
“Poor baby, want me to stop? Is it too much?” Wade teased, easing up on his thrusts as though he was going to stop.
“No! Please- fuck!” Logan gasped out, voice strained. “Don’t fucking stop!”
Wade laughed cruelly, “I thought so.” He tightened the grip he had on Logan’s hair, tugging to make him arch a little farther. At this angle, he slammed directly into Logan’s prostate. He practically howled.
“Here’s what’s going to happen babygirl,” Wade’s voice was low and had a dangerous, possessive edge to it. “You’re going to beg me to make you cum without putting my hands on your dick, you’re going to thank me for bitching you, and then I’m going to mark my fucking territory and fill you up.”
Logan is practically sobbing now. He can’t stop the tears from coming, too overwhelmed to do anything but lay there and take it, crying out at every thrust, but manages to nod his head.
“Good boy. Now,” he lets go of Logan’s wrist and head, hands taking their original place on his hip and shoulder, “fucking beg for it.”
Logan can barely string together a coherent sentence, gasping out a string of pleas, curses, and Wade’s name, but it’s satisfactory in Wade’s eyes. It’s like a mantra, and even as he clenches around Wade’s cock, finally spilling his load all over the sheets, he keeps pleading.
Wade groans at the tightness, but pulls out before he can finish.
Logan keens at the loss, throwing a confused and betrayed look over his shoulder. His red-rimmed eyes go wide as he’s suddenly pushed over onto his back, legs being thrown over Wade’s shoulders and he thrusts back inside with a new vigor.
“Ah- Fuck- Wade!”
Logan’s dick still hasn’t softened, and his hips buck frantically as Wade continues to abuse his prostate. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, but they eventually find their way to Wade’s shoulders, gripping and blunt nails digging in.
“You're going to come again just like this,” Wade says, “I know you can do it.”
It earns a high moan from Logan as his head rolls back. He’s still crying, overwhelmed, an utter mess by now, and Wade wouldn’t have it any other way.
He can barely speak, but manages to croake out an “I can’t” and a “too much.”
Wade leans in close and grips Logan’s jaw with a hand, “You can, and you will. You’ve been so good for me until now, don’t fuck it up now, dog. Now, come on my cock.”
The slight change in position was making sure that Logan’s dick rubbed against Wade’s stomach at every thrust. And with it being thoroughly neglected before, every touch sent sparks shooting up Logan’s spine. He arched up towards it, chasing the friction even if bordered on pain from being ‘too much,’ because to nobody’s surprise- Logan is a masochist.
Wade barely even finished speaking before Logan was spilling again, entirely spent and dripping down onto his own stomach.
“Good fucking boy Logan,” he groaned out, thrusts finally slowing into a steady grind of his hips deep inside of the other man. “Now what do we say?”
Logan’s arms were now wrapped around Wade’s neck, holding tight. He panted and whined, managing to whisper a single “thank you” and groaned when he felt Wade finally spilling inside of him.
He didn’t pull out though, all but collapsing on top of Logan and trying to catch his breath. They were both sticky with sweat and Logan’s cum, but Wade couldn’t bring himself to move. He was exhausted going into this, but now he felt boneless.
Logan wasn’t much better, still trembling, but no longer sniffling and crying.
They must have laid there for a long time, maybe even fallen asleep for a minute, because by the time Wade lifted his head and began to move away, Logan was barely conscious. Wade stroked a hand through Logan’s hair, pushing the sweat damp bangs out of his face, and slowly pulled his finally soft cock out of him.
That caused Logan to stir, biting back a whine at the emptiness.
“We gotta get cleaned up babygirl, hang tight,” Wade said, scooting off of the bed and making his way towards the bathroom. He grabbed a clean washcloth and wet it before exiting, but doubled back to the kitchen to grab a water bottle.
By the time he made it back, Logan had curled in on himself, facing away.
Wade frowned and climbed back into the bed, moving to sit in front of Logan. He looked embarrassed, now flushed again down to his neck and pointedly avoiding all eye contact as Wade cleaned him up. He tossed the now soiled rag away, and crossed his arms.
“What’s wrong now, peanut? Regretting letting me top you because your image of masculinity is now shattered?”
“No…” he started slowly, eyes darting between Wade’s and a particularly interesting spot on the wall. “Just- I’m sorry.”
Wade’s arms dropped. “Oh,” he said dumbly.
“Yeah.”
The air suddenly felt a lot heavier. It was tense, and awkward. Logan was the first to break the silence.
“Where I come from, it’s still not really okay to be… gay.” He pauses, glancing at Wade who is just sitting there, still not knowing exactly what to say. “So… sorry.”
Wade had to think about it for a moment, but eventually he just sighed and flopped back down onto the bed, turning his head to look at Logan.
“I’m not gonna say ‘it’s okay’ because it’s not. You’ve really been hurting my feelings with all that internalized homophobia you’ve got going on. But I’m not mad at you anymore. I think we’re even now, anyways. I said a couple of pretty mean things to you too.”
Logan just nodded, closing his eyes and sighing. He moved to roll back over, but Wade’s hand shot out to stop him.
“Come here, peanut,” he snaked his arm up under Logan’s and around his chest, pulling him back so they would lay back-to-chest. Spooning, if you will. Logan made no move to push away, but glanced back at Wade curiously.
“Call it aftercare,” he said simply, resting his chin on top of Logan’s head and squeezing him in a hug.
Logan huffed out a laugh at that, because they both know he doesn’t really need it. But it was nice.
“Okay bub. Aftercare.”