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It was oddly seamless, falling into Wade’s life.
Logan wasn’t 100% sure why he said yes to going home with him, moving into the one bedroom apartment Wade shared with his elderly, blind, coke addicted roommate and their newly acquired dog.
But he did and here they stood, wrestling Hello Kitty sheets onto the mattress of the pullout couch.
Logan scowled as he jammed a lumpy pillow into the frilled pillowcase.
“You really didn’t have any other sheets?”
“Honestly? No.”
Wade tucked in the edges of the sheet and slapped the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest.
“All done! Let’s christen this motherfucker.”
“Fuck you,” Logan sat on the edge of the bed.
“Oh my god, please do.”
Wade tossed a weathered quilt onto the bed before claiming he would be “right back” and disappearing down the hall. Logan was just starting to get under the covers when he was smacked in the side of the head by a stuffed animal. He grumbled, staring down at the thing now sitting in his lap.
“What is this?”
“A friend, in case you get lonely.”
“I’m not sleeping with a teddy bear, asshole.”
“It’s not a teddy bear, it’s a Squishmallow, so get your fucking facts straight before you bring that kind of negativity into my house.”
Logan rolled his eyes and tossed it back to Wade.
“Whatever it is, I don’t need it.”
“God, where is your whimsy, Wolvie?”
Al entered the room, claiming she needed a stiff drink if she would have to listen to their bullshit all night.
“You two bicker like an old married couple.”
Logan knew it was true but he said nothing. Truthfully, Wade wasn’t bad all of the time. If he could keep his mouth shut for more than three seconds at a time he was tolerable. And he did offer to take Logan in, knowing his past and knowing how jobless he was.
Logan voiced this concern before he even stepped foot in the apartment for the first time.
“I can’t give you anything.”
“Oh, I’m sure you could give me plenty,” Wade made it a point to stare at Logan’s ass.
“You know what I mean, asshole,” Logan grunted.
“What, like a job?”
“Yes, like a job.”
“Leave that up to me. I’ll be your sugar daddy.”
When Logan didn’t reply Wade looked at him seriously.
“I know you don’t have a job right now, I don’t expect you to pay me for anything.”
“I appreciate that,” Logan said before clearing his throat, feeling awkward.
That’s how he was feeling tonight. Awkward. Out of place. He turned on his side, springs squeaking, and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. He looked around the living room at all of the pieces of Wade’s life and wondered how the hell he got there among them.
Mary Puppins trotted in from down the hall, most likely from Wade and Al’s shared room, and curled into her makeshift dog bed on the floor. She stared up at Logan, her dark eyes shining, before blinking sleepily and burrowing into her mess of blankets. She didn’t seem to feel out of place one bit.
The nightmares didn’t start until about a week later.
Logan woke up screaming, body thrashing. He sucked in gasps of air, chest heaving as he desperately scanned his surroundings. He was unable to make out the shapes in the dark but he recognized them as familiar, non threatening, and it slowed his breathing.
It was only when he heard Wade’s voice, calling from the hallway, that he fully remembered where he was.
“Hey, Peanut, you alright?” Wade flicked on the living room lamp, casting the room in a warm glow. He looked at Logan with sympathy, his overall tone surprisingly soft.
“What the fuck is going on out there?” Al asked from down the hall.
“It’s okay, Honey Badger had a nightmare,” Wade called over his shoulder.
Logan blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light. He couldn’t even remember the nightmare or what made it so bad. He vaguely remembered screams, somebody begging for their life, blood splattering. He looked down at his trembling hands to find that his claws were out and covered in a light dusting of fluffy white stuffing. He shamefully turned his attention to the sheets and the gashes in them, some going as deep as the mattress. That explains the stuffing.
“Your sheets…” He starts, retracting his claws, “I’m sorry, I’ll replace them.”
No you can’t, you don’t even have a job.
He winces, unable to meet Wade’s eyes. As if he hasn’t been intruding enough. Now he has to go and destroy sheets he can’t pay for.
“Don’t worry about it. Hello Kitty has seen worse, trust me.” Wade sits on the edge of the bed with a wink. Logan groans and hangs his head in his hands, palms pressed to his eye sockets.
The two of them sit in silence for approximately half a second before Wade says,
“You know, I get nightmares too. All kinds of fucked up shit. Sometimes it helps to crank one out-“
“Enough.” Logan doesn’t remove his head from his hands.
“Okay, in all seriousness, do you want to talk about it? It sounded bad.”
Logan shakes his head.
“I’m fine.”
Wade doesn’t look convinced and truthfully, Logan doesn’t feel convinced either. He thought things were starting to get better. He was pulled from his timeline, distracted by Wade and all of the things his world threw his way. He had come face to face with his darkest memory and tried his best to make up for it. And yet, he was naive to think he was healing.
“Well,” Wade said softly, “if you want to talk about it, I’m here. Or if you get scared in the middle of the night and want to climb into bed with Papa and Mama Al you are more than welcome.”
Logan rolled his eyes.
“Sure, bub.”
Logan almost forgets his nightmare entirely by the morning, the only reminder being the slash marks in the sheets. He carefully folds the bed back into a couch and joins Wade in the kitchen.
“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty,” Wade says from the stove where he is attempting to flip a lopsided pancake. Mary Puppins is at his feet, waiting for crumbs to drop.
“Good morning,” Logan grunts and sits at the table. He looks around for a moment. “Where’s Al?”
“She had to go meet her dealer.”
“Hm.”
Logan busies his hands by pretending to be interested in a stack of junk mail on the table. He feels like he should be doing something.
“Do you need any help?” He asks, not exactly sure what help he has to give.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Peanut. I’ve got this covered.”
Wade turns towards the table, a plate of pancakes in one hand and a bottle of syrup in the other. He’s wearing an apron that says “kiss the cock!”
Of course he is .
The pancakes are half burnt and somehow slightly undercooked but they’re edible, Logan has certainly eaten worse.
Wade is drowning his in syrup when he asks, “You okay?”
“What? Why?” Logan asks, mouth full.
“You just seemed really freaked out last night.”
“It was a nightmare, that’s all. They happen sometimes.”
“With the claws out and everything?” Wade was genuinely curious.
Logan was genuinely ashamed.
“Drop it,” he said, shoveling another forkful of pancake into his mouth.
Thankfully, Wade did. Maybe he sensed he struck a chord. Maybe he didn’t want any stab wounds.
But the subject was hard to drop when the nightmares continued.
In fact, it almost became routine.
Logan would wake up screaming or thrashing or pleading with someone in his sleep. Wade would come rushing from down the hall to check on him or snap him out of it.
Al started wearing ear plugs.
But then one night, a few weeks in, Logan dreamt he killed Wade. They were in a dilapidated building, a place that looked eerily like the mansion, hunting someone or something. Logan could hear whatever it was crawling around in the walls, following them. But then Wade was gone, suggesting they split up and before Logan could protest the other man was around the corner of the long, dark hallway. Before his eyes the shadows of the room started to take shape, vaguely human with no defining features. Logan swiped at them, with no luck. He couldn’t touch them. But he could hear them.
Put him down like the filthy animal he is .
He killed them. You killed them!
He swiped again, backing himself further down the corridor.
And then he felt a presence behind him. This was his chance. He turned quickly and buried his claws into something solid.
He realized far too late that it was Wade.
The other man stood there, gurgling as blood dripped from his chest and onto the floor at an alarming rate.
“No, no-“
Logan retracted his claws and took Wade into his arms, trying his best to keep him upright.
Logan could feel Wade’s blood on his hands.
“No, not you too, no, no!”
“Logan !”
He was being shaken awake, the very man he was holding in his arms moments before standing over him.
He was vaguely aware that his face was streaked with tears. He said nothing, his mind still adjusting to reality.
“Alright, Peanut, enough is enough.”
Logan knew this was coming. Wade was sick of the nightmares. He was kicking him out. Him and Al probably talked this over.
“I’m staying out here with you.”
“What?” Logan finally spoke, voice hoarse.
“You can’t keep living like this. I feel bad that I’m all the way down the hall and you’re out here battling fuckin’ demons every night.”
Wade crawled into bed, barely giving Logan a moment to say otherwise.
“You…no, you don’t have to-“
“Now, if you have a nightmare I’ll be here to stop it before it gets too bad.”
“No, Wade-“
“Jesus Christ, this mattress really is not comfortable is it? One wrong move, busted spring up the asshole-“
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Wade stopped talking. He looked at Logan knowingly.
“You won’t hurt me.”
“The claws-“
“You’ve already stabbed me with those babies like a hundred and five times at least. I’m fine, aren’t I?”
Logan looked away.
“Wait…did you have a dream you hurt me?”
Logan remained silent.
“Oh, Honey Badger…”
“I had a dream I killed you.”
“That’s impossible. Regeneration, remember? Besides, I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me.”
Logan felt like there was a reference he wasn’t understanding. He turned to face Wade.
“That doesn’t mean you should get stabbed in your sleep, bub.”
“I won’t let it get to that point and hey, if it does,” Wade said as he slid under the blankets, “I’ll forgive you.”
Logan felt those words like a punch in the gut. He felt tears stinging in his eyes. Tears of embarrassment? Tears of relief? Tears of guilt? He wasn’t sure. Maybe tears of it all.
He tried to blink them away but Wade, the bastard, saw them anyway.
“Come here,” he scooted closer, springs squeaking, and threw an arm across Logan’s chest.
And Logan let him. For the first time in a very long time he felt safe. Awkward, but safe.
“You’ve really been sleeping on this mattress every night?” Wade asked, breaking the silence.
Logan let out a laugh, the tears dissipating along with the awkwardness.
“It’s not great.” He rested a hand on Wade’s arm.
“No wonder you’re crying.”
Logan laughed again.
“Thanks, bub.”
“Anytime, Peanut. Now you get your beauty rest, princess.”
Logan only grunted in response, Wade’s arm still draped across his chest as he fell asleep.
The next night, as Logan was brushing his teeth in the already too small bathroom, Wade crammed himself in, shoulder to shoulder and said, “We should watch a movie tonight.”
“Ok?” Logan cocked an eyebrow and looked at him in the mirror. Wade was casually starting to wash his face.
“So, what will it be? Something funny? Something scary? Something romantic? God, we should watch Fifty Shades of Grey .”
“No,” Logan spit into the sink, “I am not watching that.”
“You’re no fun.”
They decided on To Wong Foo but only because Logan had never seen it and Wade said he needed to be educated.
About halfway through the movie Logan became aware of just how close he and Wade were, crammed onto the mattress, legs touching without thought. It should have been weird. It should have been uncomfortable. But it was…nice? Logan liked it and he blushed at the thought.
Wade came back the next night without discussion. He simply snuggled in next to Logan after placing Mary Puppins in her bed.
“You didn’t have a nightmare last night,” Wade said, turning to face Logan.
Logan thought for a moment and couldn’t remember his dream. He definitely didn’t wake up screaming.
“Guess I didn’t.”
“Maybe because you had your big, sexy, friendly neighborhood Deadpool keeping you safe.”
“It was one night,” Logan rolled his eyes.
“Hey! That’s progress!”
“Give it a few weeks.”
“Oh, so you want me to keep sleeping with you then?” Wade raised a non-existent eyebrow.
Logan blushed. He knew Wade was just joking but would it be so bad if he did want it? There was a point in time where he would have sooner died than been in the same room as the man and here he was enjoying his company. Here he was having feelings.
It was fucking embarrassing.
“Say another word and I’m folding you into the couch.”
“Ooh, kinky!”
“You’re lucky I’m tired.”
God, what was wrong with him?
Wade smiled and scooted a bit closer, pulling the covers around himself. “You know you love me.”
That was the thing. Logan did know and it was starting to eat him alive. He needed to get a grip. You couldn’t come back from love. No matter how it turns out in the end it tends to leave a permanent stain on your life. Logan already had far too many, it would be foolish to get attached to someone else.
But still, he found himself wanting Wade’s arms around him, anchoring him in place. He wanted to feel his warmth radiating next to him. He didn’t want to be alone.
“What are you thinking about?” Wade pulled him from his thoughts.
“That I want to go to sleep,” Logan halted his internal battle and before he had the chance to talk himself out of it, he reached for Wade’s arm and draped it across himself.
Wade’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise and Logan gave him a warning glare, daring him to say anything to ruin the moment.
“Ok, ok,” Wade said, tightening his grip with a smile. “Time to go night-night.”
Logan huffed and draped his own arm across Wade.
“Night, bub.”
“Goodnight, Peanut.”
____________________
The nightmares became less frequent. Logan refused to admit that it may have been because of Wade. He would also refuse to admit that it was nice sharing the space, even as cramped as it was. For so long he was a lone wolf, isolated, his walls impenetrable. And here he was, sleeping with another man’s arms around his body.
His feelings were complicated and he hated it. If he could reach into his chest and carve them out he would. He couldn’t tell if they were normal feelings of friendly affection or those of lovesickness. He imagined this is what teenagers with a crush felt like. But it wasn’t a crush, it was… god dammit.
What did Wade think of him? Was it pity? Was that why he was being so nice? Was this how friends were? God, he had gone without a friend for so long, spending his time feeling like he didn’t deserve them. Or was this something else? It couldn’t be something else, Wade wanted Vanessa. If Logan thought about it too hard he would find himself spiraling so he shut it down, crammed the thoughts back into the dark corner of his brain and tried to enjoy the moment for what it was. It was nice. It made him feel better. Maybe this was how it felt for everyone and he was just out of touch.
He thought that until the party.
Wade wanted to have a “game night.” And by game night he meant playing one round of Cards Against Humanity and getting distracted by conversation. The usual group was dispersed throughout the apartment; Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Laura and Dopinder were sitting in the living room listening to Chappel Roan. Wade claimed that she was an “absolute fucking girlboss icon,” whatever the fuck that meant. This left Logan, Wade, Vanessa, Peter and Al at the kitchen table. Mary Puppins was sitting on Al’s lap, sneakily eating the piece of pizza off of her plate.
“Wait, I have an idea!” Wade said before guzzling the rest of his beer, slapping the bottle onto the table and giving it a twist. “Spin the bottle!”
A brief silence fell over the table as the bottle neck came to a halt at Logan.
Of fucking course it did.
A blush raged through his face and down his neck as the others snickered.
“What’s happening?” Al asked. “That shit better not have landed on me.”
“You could never get so lucky, Al. But somebody’s about to get the sloppiest, sexiest kiss of all time.” Wade said.
“No,” Logan said as casually as possible, taking a sip of his own beer.
“But it’s the rules of spin the bottle!” Wade pouted.
“I don’t give a fuck what rules they are, I said no.” Logan downed the rest of his beer.
“Ok, ok. I respect your wishes, Peanut. Consent is mandatory.” Wade put his hands up in surrender before spinning the bottle again.
Logan stood up from the table, mainly to throw away his empty beer but also to remove himself from the situation. It got too close for comfort. He would admit to no one the brief twinge of excitement that shot through him at the sight of that bottle neck pointed in his direction.
He caught Vanessa’s eyes as he crossed the kitchen. It was the kind of look that said, are you alright?
Yeah, he was definitely removing himself from the situation. He tossed the beer bottle in the recycling bin and made his way to the fire escape for some much needed fresh air. It was freezing outside but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He could take the cold. What he couldn’t take was whatever was happening at the kitchen table.
He climbed through the window onto the fire escape, taking a seat at the furthest corner. The cold, metal grate dug into the back of his thighs as he pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it. For a moment he got lost in the scent of the smoke, thick and heavy. He was listening to a siren in the distance when Vanessa crawled out onto the fire escape.
“Is this thing sturdy?” She asked, cautiously taking a seat next to Logan.
“Probably not.”
“That’s great.”
They sat in an awkward silence. Logan twisted the cigar between his fingers for a moment before taking another pull.
“He really likes you, you know.” Vanessa finally said.
Logan blew smoke into the night air.
“I think you got that backwards.”
Vanessa smiled and let out a quiet laugh.
“Listen…I love Wade. I will always love Wade. He’s my best friend. But that ship has sailed.” She turned to face Logan. “But I’ve known him long enough to be able to see that look in his eyes.”
Logan remained silent, cigar forgotten.
“Do what you want with that information. I just had to let you know.” And with that Vanessa disappeared through the window.
The music inside had stopped. The party must have been winding down. Logan decided to finish his cigar and allow the cold night air to bite at him, Vanessa’s words rattling around in his brain.
It can’t be true. The way Wade talks about her, the way he looks at her like she hung the moon. How could he want Logan when he had her?
When he finally made his way back inside Ellie, Yukio and Laura were getting ready to leave, huddled by the front door with their coats on, talking to Wade.
“There you are!” Wade turned to Logan, “I thought my princess ran away.”
“I went outside to smoke,” Logan tried to remain nonchalant, ignoring the princess comment.
The two of them said goodbye to the girls, giving their hugs and wishing them a safe trip home. Al was still sitting on the couch listening to the nightly news, Mary Puppins curled up next to her.
Wade and Logan moved into the kitchen, starting to clean up a bit. Logan was clearing off the table when Wade asked,
“Are you ok?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Logan didn’t look up from wiping up a small puddle of spilled beer.
“I don’t know, you just seem kinda distant. Especially after the whole spin the bottle thing.” Wade turned to rinse a dish in the sink. When Logan didn’t respond he turned to face him again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I swear that was not my intention. It’s just my whole gonorrhea of the mouth thing. Wait, no, diarrhea of the mouth.”
Logan continued to clean the table, pretending like he wasn’t actively avoiding Wade’s eyes.
“You didn’t. I’m fine.”
“Really? You seem upset.”
“I’m not.”
“You won’t even look at me.”
Al stood up from the couch, Mary Puppins in her arms.
“We’re going to bed,” she said, swiftly shuffling down the hall towards her room.
Logan forced himself to look up at Wade.
“I said I’m fine, alright?” He, admittedly, did not sound fine. He could hear the annoyance seeping through his words. How dare he have these feelings? How dare his own body betray him?
Wade simply stared, clearly waiting for something more. Finally, he spoke,
“What did Vanessa say to you?”
Logan’s stomach dropped. He looked back down at the table but couldn’t focus on the task at hand anymore.
“Logan?”
“She said you like me.”
Wade crossed his arms and leaned against the sink. He nodded, staring down at his own feet for a moment.
The silence Logan once wished for was now too much. Maybe Vanessa really did have it all wrong. Wade was going to have to break it to him that, no, I don’t like you, Logan. Not like that. I don’t know why she would say that. And Logan would accept that. In fact, he expected it, no matter how much it would secretly hurt. But instead, Wade asked,
“Would that be a problem?”
Logan was stunned.
“No. No, it wouldn’t be a problem but…you shouldn’t want me, you should want her .”
“Wow. Homophobic much?” Wade widened his eyes with a smirk.
“No-” Logan scrubbed his face with his hands, “that’s not what I fucking mean. I mean I’m…not what you want. You don’t want this.”
“Who said?”
“What?”
“Who said I don’t want you?”
Logan swallowed and leaned against the table, head hung low. He tried his best to piece together a coherent answer in his head but Wade started talking again.
“And don’t give me any of that ‘I’m unlovable’ bullshit because I’m not buying it.”
“You don’t get it, Wade,” Logan’s eyes snapped up, “Everybody that I get close to, everybody that I love ends up getting hurt. I’m not worth the fucking trouble, ok? I know how I am. I know how things end. Just stick with Vanessa. She’s the one that you want.”
“First of all,” Wade pushed himself away from the sink, “I do get it. Vanessa got killed because of me. Everybody in our apartment tonight was nearly wiped from existence because of me. I’ve had my fucking fill of feeling unlovable. Honestly? Still do, but that’s a whole other issue for a whole other day.” He stood in front of Logan, nearly chest to chest. “But, Peanut? You’re the one that I want. Wait, oh my god,” Wade’s eyes lit up, “Was that a callback?”
Logan sighed but didn’t step away.
“Believe it or not, you’re pretty lovable.” Wade slowly reached for an empty beer bottle at the edge of the table. He turned it on its side and pointed the bottle neck at Logan.
“Ok?” Wade asked softly.
All Logan could do was nod, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he hadn’t kissed anybody in so long. He could still run, get out of the apartment and never look back. But instead he stood vulnerable, waiting for lips against his.
And then Wade was kissing him, both of his hands planted to the sides of Logan’s face. Logan let his own hands rest against Wade’s forearms before snaking around to the back of his head and deepening the kiss.
When they broke apart they both wore shy smiles. A comfortable silence hung between them before Al called from down the hall,
“If you fuck up that couch more than it already is I’ll find a way to kill both of you!”
“That eavesdropping bitch,” Wade shot a look in her general direction, “you could lend us your bed, you know?”
“I think the fuck not!”
“Wade.” Logan was sure he was blushing down to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Peanut. I’m just joking.” He placed his hands on Logan’s face again. “We’ll take this at your pace.”
Oh god, Logan thought, that might take a while.
But Wade was apparently a mind reader.
“We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Logan supposed that technically was true. If they both couldn’t die- jesus christ, stop thinking about death at a time like this.
“Ok, bub,” Logan smiled, feeling lucky for the first time in decades.