2chaotic4u - Tumblr blog

2chaotic4u · 11 days

Text

౨ৎ . sleep so i can see you ‧ ׂ. — poolverine.

5 times wade and logan were falling in love + the 1 time they did something about it.

warnings : implied sex + sexual references.

1. Smile

Wade sits perched on the edge of the counter, humming happily to himself as Logan moves about the kitchen, preparing supper. Something dings — the microwave, probably — and Wade kicks his foot into Logan’s thigh at the noise.

“I know,” Logan grumbles.

“Well you haven’t done anything about it, honey badger.” Wade reaches for his glass — fading Hello Kitties printed across it, pink glitter crazy straw in chocolate milk — and takes a long, loud slurp. The plastic straw clinks against the glass.

“Do it yourself, if you care so much.” In Wade’s delightful and correct opinion, Logan is being nice today. He only stabbed Wade once, after Wade made a comment about Logan's chest when he left the bathroom, still wet from the shower. He didn’t even say anything when Wade insisted on being in here while Logan cooked. (Despite that, in Logan’s words, Wade is a “bigger kitchen hazard than Al.”)

Wade sticks his tongue out at Logan, who merely rolls his eyes in response. He opens the microwave, twisting around and ducking to do so, only to find that it’s empty.

“Snookums, there’s nothing here,” Wade says, nudging Logan’s thigh with his foot.

“Air fryer.” Logan doesn’t even look up from the cutting board, which is a little insulting, to be frank. Wade pouts, but opens the air fryer. This time, at least, it’s not empty.

“Ooo, are these for me?” Wade asks with a dramatic gasp. He hops down from the counter and dramatically swoons, draping himself over Logan’s back. “Sugar, you shouldn’t have.”

“Get offa me,” Logan grunts. He does that a lot — grunts and grumbles. Not very cheery. He doesn’t push Wade away or stab him, though that might be because Al complained about having blood in her food the other day. Wade, personally, would delight in his food’s dipping sauce being Logan’s blood. But that’s another matter.

“You’re warm,” Wade says. He doesn’t need to say it’s an excuse — his hands are already fastened around Logan and running up his torso to cradle his chest.

Logan does shove him away then — bans him from the kitchen, in fact. Wade snatches his chocolate milk off the counter and goes off to sulk in the living room with Mary Puppins. It’s barely ten steps from where he was previously, but he makes sure to milk it with all he’s got. Ha, milk. Get it? Cause — yeah, you get it.

“He doesn’t love me anymore,” Wade proclaims to Mary, holding her up to his face. She sneezes, and her tongue flops with the motion. “I know, right? I let him live here, sleep in my bed — ”

“We sleep on a pullout,” Logan interjects.

“Sleep in my bed,” Wade repeats with a pointed look. “And look where it’s gotten us. Nowhere. Banished. Someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“We both sleep on the couch,” Logan mutters.

Wade pointedly ignores that, and like a petulant child, seats himself at the very edge of the living room with Mary in his lap. Each time Logan looks back at them, Wade narrows his eyes and places his hand onto the kitchen floor. After maybe the fifth time, Logan cracks a smile, though he quickly turns back to plating food.

“Ha!” Wade cries, shooting to his feet. “Oh, Mary Puppins, he does care!”

Wade dances around in celebration, moving one of Mary’s little paws so she’s dancing with him. He sings under his breath, mostly mumbling words until the chorus, which he belts out. Until he gets whacked with a spatula, that is.

They eat around the coffee table, Wade on the floor and Logan on the couch — manspreading. Wade salivates over the tight pull of Logan’s sweatpants across his thighs and crotch until Logan’s hand forcibly turns his head back the other way.

“I was just appreciating the view, peanut.”

“You want skewered?”

“Can I request to be shish-kebabed?”

Logan’s claws slide out the slightest bit, scraping along the top of Wade’s head.

“Not nice!” Wade yelps out, jerking away. “I need that.”

“You’ll live.”

Wade sulks because why is Logan right? and they eat dinner relatively peacefully. Wade’s constant chatter about whatever Golden Girls episode is playing goes on and Logan hums occasionally, though Wade is pretty sure he’s being tuned out.

It’s quieter somehow, with just the two of them. Laura is staying at the X-Men mansion; she’s made friends of Yukio and Ellie. Al is off at “bingo” which has to be a lie because she can’t even see the cards! She won’t admit to anything dealing with drugs, but Wade knows there’s something going on. Before she left, he asked Al to bring him back a treat and had promptly gotten whacked by her cane.

Wade leans back against the couch between Logan’s legs, shifting around until they’re both draped over his shoulders. It’s simple, easy contact that makes Wade’s skin tingle pleasantly. He hums happily, some nameless tune, and rests his head against the inside of Logan’s knee. His fingers tap along to the beat on his own legs, and he barely resists the urge to sway, not wanting to dislodge himself from Logan.

“That song have a name?” Logan asks gruffly.

“Nope!” Wade tilts his head back until he can see Logan’s face. He’s not usually frowning, but a smile isn’t particularly common, so Wade’s heart stutters in his chest at the small grin Logan is giving him.

“Hm.” Logan’s eyes stay on him for a second longer before they snap up to the TV. His smile fades away with it, and Wade sits there, all of his thoughts crashing and colliding as he tries to think of something that will bring it back.

It’s the first of many times that Logan will do this — and Wade already mourns it before he knows the times it will happen next.

2. Sleeping

The pullout creaks sharply as Wade shifts around, unable to get comfortable. His skin itches and he’s cold; the thin blanket he’s using isn’t much help in keeping heat trapped. He hears Logan let out a soft snore behind him. For a brief second, Wade’s stomach aches more than his heart pounds. He wants to crawl into Logan’s arms and be told everything is fine, he’s fine, they’re fine, he’s not going to leave Wade like Vanessa —

Wade pushes himself up and stumbles to the bathroom, eyes blurring with tears. He hunches over the toilet, chest heaving and throat burning, but nothing comes up. He lays down on the floor. The cool tile presses against his skin — it’s become burning in the last few minutes.

The next thing he knows, Wade is being lifted into the air bridal-style. His senses are dulled from sleep, but he’s aware enough to realize there’s no immediate threat.

“Logan?” Wade mumbles, pressing his cheek against the bare chest beside it.

“Yeah, bub. What were you doing sleeping in the bathroom?”

Wade mumbles something incomprehensible and snuggles closer. The contact slows everything else, giving even just a moment’s more focus to his brain. Wade’s never been very good at getting close to someone without literally getting close to them. Especially sleeping — he hasn’t spent much time sleeping alone in the last collection of years, tending to only do so when he becomes so exhausted he can’t stay awake. That’s not healthy or something, but Wade likes to keep the facade that his healing factor means it doesn’t matter. (It matters a lot.)

When they’re back on the pullout, Wade gives in to his instincts and curls up along Logan’s side. He rests his head on Logan’s chest — delectable; if Wade wasn’t so tired he’d fangirl more — and tries to ignore the swirling feelings in his gut when Logan’s arm wraps around his back.

“Go to sleep, bub. I’m not going anywhere.”

And Wade relaxes, sinking into the bed with a little sigh.

Logan is gone from the bed when Wade wakes up. He’s only in the kitchen and he’s offering Wade pancakes, but even as Wade smiles and says yes, duh, he can’t ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Logan said he’s not leaving, but that doesn’t mean he won’t; Wade figures it’s only a matter of time before Logan realizes how annoying and horrible Wade is and leaves for someone better.

3. Cuddling

Wade fumbles with his keys, the metal of them and his various keychains clinking together. When he finally enters the apartment, everything feels quiet (except for the door banging into the wall and Wade’s loud “fuck” as he trips over a shoe) and still. It’s not an off feeling, it’s more like how it is when Wade wakes up at 3 am and everyone else is snoring away.

“Logie-bear,” Wade calls out. “You here?”

Wade waits, picking at a bit of peeling leather on one of his gloves. When there’s nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioner, he ventures further into the little apartment. Logan might not even be home yet. It’s five; the time he normally is home by, but it’s not unheard of for him to go for some drinks with his coworkers (“They’re not my friends, Wade,” Logan had told him firmly, when Wade had referred to them as such). He can just wait for Logan to get home. It won’t be too-long; an hour maybe. He’s always home in time for dinner, so they can eat together. It’s possibly Wade’s favorite part of the day; if anything, it would only come second to sleeping with Logan. Literally sleeping, of course. Sadly. Frowny face.

Empty apartment means Wade alone with his thoughts; never a good thing, especially not for too long. Shower water sluices over Wade’s back, the heavy heat stinging just enough to bite back the chill in his bones. It doesn’t take him long to start thinking of Logan. His thoughts always come back to Logan in some form or another.

—

Logan pushes into the apartment quietly. He toes off his boots and catches himself on the wall when he sways. He groans, resting his forehead against the plaster for a movement.

He stumbles down the hallway blindly, not even glancing around. Brush teeth, almost throw up, shower, dress, walk out. Logan moves through the motions with a turning stomach, thoughts only focused on finally laying down and getting a moment of rest.

Today has been a long, long day and he’s more than ready for it to be over.

The TV is on in the living room when he emerges. Logan squeezes his eyes shut for a moment then breathes out and walks into what he’s sure will be Wade’s mouth running.

Wade is sitting on the pullout, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes are firmly focused on…God, is that the stupid cartoon cat show again? (Honestly, Logan doesn’t even hate the show that much; the little cat and her friends always make Wade smile and laugh, and Wade talks about it, goes on rants about the characters with lots of hand movements. It’s…nice.) It could be worse. It could be the pony one.

What’s worse: Wade doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look at Logan. And Wade has a bit of a problem with stopping doing these things usually. But Logan is tired and his head is fuzzy from the drinks he went out and got against his better judgment. He doesn’t want to fight with Wade — not tonight.

Logan falls onto the pullout and puts his head on Wade’s lap.

Before all of this, before Wade and his universe needing saving and the Void and all of it, it had been a long time since someone had touched Logan. In general, yes, but also just kindly. Then he was thrown into all this shit with Wade and the guy never stops touching you. Somehow, along the way, Logan got used to it. Started seeking it out. (Wade was ecstatic; he’d grinned so hard each time that Logan thought his face was going to break.)

Logan’s cheek is squished against Wade’s thigh and he presses his forehead to Wade’s hipbone. It’s a long moment before he hears an all-suffering sigh. Logan relaxes when he feels Wade’s hand in his hair — this is good. This means Wade isn’t mad.

“You weren’t home for dinner,” Wade starts. He sounds like a pouty, petulant child.

“Sorry, bub.”

“I just — you’re always home for dinner!” The bright sounds of the cartoon stop. Logan steeles himself for what Wade will say next. He feels horribly unprepared for whatever it may be. “I didn’t even know what to do. I made you a plate before I remembered that you weren’t here.”

Logan isn’t good with emotions. He’s not good with his own, let alone someone else’s. But this is Wade. And somehow, that changes everything.

Logan struggles into sitting up before turning to look at Wade. His face is reflected in the light of the TV, scars on display. He’s so pretty it’s ruining Logan’s life. Logan leans forward until his forehead presses against Wade’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Wade. I really am.”

Wade breathes out through his nose slowly. Logan’s eyes have fallen shut, but he can hear the show start playing again. The little cat is trying to find a birthday gift for her friend, from what Logan understands. He’s not into the whole cartoon-thing.

“I forgive you, peanut,” Wade says eventually. He pulls Logan closer, their legs tangling, Logan almost sitting on Wade’s lap. Logan tucks his face into Wade’s neck — his scent is strongest there. It’s comforting. Logan lets himself relax into the hold. This is Wade. And Wade is safe, as much as it is scary to be so near him.

4. Pet Names

Wade calls Logan pet names constantly; only uses ‘Logan’ in those rare moments of importance or, say, near-death experiences (saying a lot, coming from two people who can’t die). It’s always peanut or sugar tits or snookums or, on one rare occasion that did involve getting shish-kebabed on Logan’s claws, baby. Logan’s leaving is impending, so Wade decides to milk everything from the situation.

“Good morning, baby,” Wade greets cheerfully. He places a kiss on Logan’s cheek, resting his head there as he stares at the newspaper in Logan’s hands. “That one’s Rent.”

Logan marks the crossword answer down, gruffly muttering a thanks around his cigar. He’s started smoking those again — Wade had thought he’d quit. Now it’s hard to find him without one in hand or between his teeth. Wade grins against Logan’s hair and skips towards the stove to make himself breakfast.

Every morning, Wade greets Logan in the same way, but he rotates out the pet names. First, baby. After that, babygirl, then princess, then pup, all which got Wade skewered, pounded, or covered in coffee. Wade, after a week, comes to the conclusion that kitty is okay, as long as he’s soft with it.

“Morning, kitty-baby,” Wade murmurs, leaning tiredly against Logan’s side. “What’cha making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Mm. Thank you.” Wade pecks Logan’s cheek. The coffee maker dings. Wade doesn’t move from his spot, even though he thinks he might fall over if he doesn’t ingest some caffeine soon. It can wait a little longer. Time with his Logan is far more important.

“Shut up.”

He starts doing it at night, too. Pressing little kisses to Logan’s cheeks and telling him goodnight in one way or another.

“Goodnight, princess,” Wade murmurs, cuddling his unicorn plush closer to his chest. “I’ll miss you in the time it takes me to fall asleep and start dreaming.”

“G’night, bub,” Logan replies. He doesn’t shy away so much anymore. Not…often, anyways. Sometimes Wade will say baby and Logan’s cheeks will go red and he’ll let Wade close. Other times, though, Wade will say it and Logan will be gone for hours, after viciously stabbing Wade and looking completely guilt-ridden as he stepped back. He always looks like that before he leaves — like a scared kitten that’s just accidentally had its tail stepped on. Wade hates that look. He only ever wants to make Logan happy, but it’s hard when the two sides seem to be constantly warring within Logan’s head. Like Wade, don’t like Wade. Hug Wade, punch Wade. Purr, growl. It’s all very confusing and Wade wishes he knew how to deal with it better. But, like Al had told him as he paced around the apartment in a Logan-less panic, sometimes you have to let people work these things out for themselves. Even if it’s hard, even if it sucks. Because it’s probably harder on them and they need you to be like a rock. Or something. Wade was a little distraught, he doesn’t remember it all that well, okay?

5. Food

“Wade! Pizza’s — ”

Before Logan can finish his sentence, Wade darts in and snatches the pizza box from his hands. He pops the box open and takes a long, heavy inhale.

“Sweet, cheesy goodness,” Wade says with a moan. He takes the pizza to the living room, setting up on the couch and flicking through shows on the TV while Logan patters around in the kitchen. Wade hears glasses clink and cabinets opening. It’s all so domestic. Wade grins and happily dances in his seat. He still can’t believe it. He has The Wolverine here in his house. No, he has Logan. That’s better. So much better. Fucking perfect, if you were to ask Wade.

“Here.” Logan pushes a glass of chocolate milk into Wade’s hand. Fuck, when had he gotten back? Wade jolts a little, but grins at Logan when he sees that Logan had made sure to pick out Wade’s favorite Hello Kitty cup, and had even added a glittery pink straw.

They eat the pizza from the box while watching Gossip Girl; Logan has never seen the show and Wade decided they needed to rectify that immediately.

Wade licks grease off his fingers, watching intently as Logan raises another thick slice of pizza to his mouth. The cheese is hot and melting, dripping across Logan’s skin, and the piece is so floppy (just the way Wade likes it) that Logan practically had to fold it in half. Wade grins and tries not to laugh. It makes something zing in his chest when Logan smiles back.

They finish out the night with a movie, legs tangled together and blanket across their laps. Wade isn’t sure he looks at the screen for more than a minute total the entire way through. But you can’t blame him! If Logan was sitting on your couch and cuddling with you you’d stare at him too. Wade really doesn’t know how he gets anything done when Logan is home. Once, Logan walked around shirtless because their air conditioning went out? Wade went to bed with a lot of spank-bank material that night.

—

The next morning, Wade wakes up with Logan wrapped around him. He stays perfectly still, not moving so much as an inch, until Logan wakes and leaves the bed. It sends disappointment ringing through his veins, but then Logan is there with coffee and breakfast so Wade forgives it.

They lounge around for a good portion of the day, watching TV and eating oily or cheesy chips that stain their fingers. By noon, Mary Puppins starts whining at the door and Wade stands up, declaring, “Walkies! You want walkies, sweetheart?”

So they go on a walk.

Wade, Logan, and Mary Puppins, all happily trotting down the street mindlessly. Wade lets his free hand brush up against Logan’s every once in a while, but Logan seems to catch on and tucks his hands into his coat pockets. Wade can see the tense lines of Logan’s shoulders, drawing up in a familiar way that makes Wade’s heart ache. He can’t ever get this right, can he?

They end up at an ice cream shop. Wade swears (with fingers crossed) that he didn’t head this way on purpose. Logan just shakes his head and he hands bills to the worker behind the glossy white counter.

They eat out of paper cups while sitting outside the shop. Watching the light foot traffic pass by and seeing Logan’s soft smiles and hearing Mary Puppins’ whines is enough for Wade. It’s so so much more than enough and he’d take this every single day over what his life was before.

Logan’s spoon — green plastic and tiny in his hand — scrapes against the bottom of the container. It draws Wade back, a little, into his body rather than his head. He hurriedly scoops up the remaining ice cream and M&Ms into his mouth from his own cup.

“So, where to next?” Wade asks with his mouth full.

It’s a long moment of some rather intense eye contact — Wade Jr is going to start acting up if Logan keeps going like this — before Logan says, “Home.”

They sleep together, as always, on the pullout, curled around each other and buried under the same blankets. No more “my side of the bed;” it’s all just theirs. Logan even lets Wade put on cartoons to help lull himself into sleep.

But it was all too nice, and Wade should have known. Fuck! He should have FUCKING KNOWN.

Because Wade spends the next three days without Logan, bouncing between Al and Laura and various phone calls to everyone else (all seven other people) that he knows to ask if they’ve seen or heard from Logan. The answer is no, every single time, and Wade cries every night. He cries the hardest when Logan comes home, though. Doesn’t let Logan see it; hides away in the burning water of the shower while he sobs. He just doesn’t get it. Why isn’t he good enough? No, scratch that. Why isn’t he enough, period? What is he doing so wrong?

Wade kind of…gives up. He reverts back to the old, classic pet names — mostly peanut — even though he doesn’t like them as much. He stops being so clingy, too. That was definitely a problem. Probably why Logan kept leaving; he needed space that Wade wasn’t giving him. He stops expecting anything from anyone, and becomes genuinely surprised when Logan makes breakfast for them both.

It hurts. It really, really hurts and Wade doesn’t know what to do. Can’t someone just tell him what to do?! Even his glittery unicorn diary doesn’t provide enough assistance. Wade just doesn’t understand why Logan won’t tell him what he’s doing wrong. Is it being clingy? Too needy? Annoying? Too forward? Does he need to stop with the innuendos? It’s all confusing and Wade’s tummy hurts and he’s tired — spent all of last night consciously keeping his body away from Logan’s.

What’s most confusing though…well, it’s a little hard to explain. Just watch:

“G’morning, bub,” Logan greets, reaching out without looking to pull Wade into his side. Wade goes willingly because as much as it hurts, he can’t refuse Logan for anything. Bacon sizzles away on the stove and Logan is humming, a soft tune that makes tears well up Wade’s eyes. Instinctually, he hides his face in Logan’s neck. “You alright?”

Wade nods, his nose rubbing against Logan’s neck.

“You sure?” Logan’s hand runs up and down Wade’s back. It only makes Wade cry harder, but he melts into the contact. “Hey, bub. Look at me?”

Wade shakes his head and grips Logan’s shirt tightly. If he looks at Logan, he may well and truly break, and then Logan will know and he’ll leave forever and this is fine! Having Logan like this is fine! Really, it is. It’s fine.

Logan lets him drop it, but Wade still can feel himself being eyed throughout breakfast. The bacon tastes like ash.

They get through three more days like that. Logan works now — something to do with construction. Every morning before he leaves, he looks at Wade and, if Wade didn’t know any better, he might say that Logan looks worried.

Nothing to worry about here, Wade thinks bitterly. You’re the one that runs away, not me.

The fourth day, Wade is sure Logan was supposed to work. But it’s almost noon and Logan is curled around him, snoring softly. His arm is heavy over Wade’s waist and their legs press together. Wade had tried to avoid this, but somehow, each time he fell asleep, he’d end up in Logan’s arms. Logan is still asleep. Wade is awake and he is tired.

“I love you,” Wade whispers. It’s too quiet for anyone’s ears but his own. He laces his fingers through Logan’s.

Logan wakes up half an hour later. Wade is still tired.

—

Logan orders in for dinner. Chinese food from the little place just down the street that Wade loves. Logan’s never liked it much, but he had made the call, set out all their food across the coffee table. He lights a candle, the only unscented one he could find in the house, and sets it up in the middle of the table. Wade isn’t home yet, but he will be soon. Sending him to the store for things they didn’t need had been Logan’s best idea. He can only hope this whole thing doesn’t go sideways. Althea is away at bingo, and Laura is still at the mansion. Logan has the whole house and night to make sure this goes right.

“Peanut, I’m home!”

Logan looks up at the sound of Wade’s voice from the entryway. He glances around at everything one last time before heading over to greet him.

“Wade,” Logan says. He’s smiling already, but he’s trying to suppress it. He doesn’t want to give anything away.

“I had such a time, they were out of so much stuff — ” Logan grabs the bags from Wade’s hands as Wade chatters on. For as much as Logan has told him to shut up, he’s grown to love Wade’s constant talking. It’s nice to have someone care enough to want to talk to you. And yeah, Wade talks nonstop to just about anyone, but that doesn’t mean Logan isn’t special. He’s pretty damn sure that Wade doesn’t call anyone else baby or sleep with them.

“Logan?” Wade calls out from the living room. Logan abandons half the plastic shopping bags on the kitchen floor and speeds to Wade. Wade doesn’t look angry, like Logan had feared, but rather…confused. And his eyes are welling up — fuck, does he hate it? Did Logan read all of this wrong? Everyone else had said —

“Wade.”

“What’s all this?”

“Dinner,” Logan responds simply. His fingers itch for a cigar.

“I can see that. What’s with the — ” Wade waves his hand towards the table. “ — candle and shit?”

Logan takes a deep breath and looks at Wade for a moment. The shaking hands, the teary eyes. A week or two ago, before Logan ran away again, Wade might have jumped for joy over this. But now, Logan’s beginning to see the problem. It’s him. But Wade also looks so hopeful, like he wants this to be whatever it is that he’s thinking, but isn’t sure if he’s allowed.

“This is a date,” Logan clarifies. “I’m taking you on a date.”

Wade doesn’t move. He’s completely stock-still for a solid thirty seconds before Logan has an armful of Wade Wilson. A crying Wade Wilson.

It takes a few minutes, but Wade calms down (more or less) and they sit side-by-side on the couch, eating noodles and rice and spring rolls. Wade keeps giggling like a schoolgirl, looking at Logan with a sort of awe, as if he can’t believe that they’re doing this. He keeps teasingly pressing against Logan too: thighs together, ankles brushing, his chin on Logan’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe this,” Wade whispers conspiratorially, almost as if Logan isn’t meant to hear. “I mean, just look at me? And you want to go on a date with me? I can’t figure out why but boy am I glad it’s happening!”

“What’s wrong with how you look?” Logan asks with a frown. He takes a large bite of a spring roll while waiting for Wade’s answer.

“Well, I mean — ” Wade falters under the weight of Logan’s stare. “You’ve seen me, peanut. Not exactly the first pick of the bunch.”

“You’re handsome.”

“Thanks, peanut, but — ”

“No,” Logan insists. He takes the container from Wade’s hands and sets it on the table. “You’re handsome. You are.”

Wade breathes in and out shallowly, his eyes filled with tears again. Logan shifts himself forward until he’s sitting on Wade’s lap.

“You’re handsome,” Logan repeats. “And I like the way you look.”

“I want to kiss you,” Wade blurts out. He starts going red immediately. “I mean — ”

“Go on.”

Wade only hesitates for a split second before their mouths are meeting.

They’re stumbling down the hall before Wade can even process it. His cheeks are streaked with tears and he can feel the trembling of Logan’s hands on his face. Wade is scared. He’s so so scared because he doesn’t know how to handle this — he’s wanted Logan for longer than he wants to admit.

Rain is pattering on the window above the bed, the streetlamp shining through and casting watery shadows across the walls. The room is warm and smells like Wade’s sugar cookie candles. Logan sits down hard on the edge of the bed and Wade takes the moment to breathe. To realize that all of this is happening. It’s not a dream or a fantasy. This is real and it’s now. Logan is crying too. His hands rub up and down gently on Wade’s hips. Wade would give anything to know what he’s thinking right now.

“You’re gorgeous,” Logan murmurs. He looks directly into Wade’s eyes as he says it.

“Yeah, well, you’re perfect,” Wade shoots back. He settles himself on Logan’s lap. “Kiss me again.”

When Wade wakes up the next morning, Logan is curled up in his arms, face slack and peaceful, but somehow Wade can tell he’ds not quite asleep. Wade presses a kiss to Logan’s bare shoulder. His skin is warm from the early morning sunlight curling over it.

“I love you,” Wade whispers. His voice shakes.

“Love you too,” Logan murmurs back.

Maybe…maybe they’ll be okay.

#OH MY GOD?#wheres all the reblogs? likes? everytning?#THIS IS HEAVENLY I ACTUALLY CRIED #IM CRYING REAL TEARS RN THIS IS BEAUTIFUL WRITING #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadpool #wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #wade wilson #logan howlett #faves #fav #im literally crying #so beautiful/gen

78 notes · View notes