Chapter Text
“YOU FUCKING DEMON!” Logan shouted at the cowering dog, shaking the ruined cowl at her. There were tiny, tooth sized holes poked into the left wing. Everyday the ugly little dog was getting into trouble. Chewing on cables, barking at all hours, and sometimes going inside without warning. Wade never scolded her, so the task fell to Logan to try and get the creature to behave.
It was during this that Wade entered through the front door, home from work. Wade scooped Mary Puppins up one handed and shielded her, “Don’t yell at her like that, you big meanie panini,” Wade scolded.
Logan growled.
“I got you something else to wear, anyways,” Wade said, tossing him a paper bag. “I wanted to get you something lacy, but they didn’t have anything in your size,”
“Thanks,” Logan muttered reluctantly. In the couple weeks he’d been staying here since they destroyed the Time Ripper and saved Wade’s universe, he had been wearing some of Wade’s clothes. They fit way too tight and he hated the goofy graphics on most of them, but he hadn’t complained. He didn’t have any money to go buy anything, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to go about getting a job in this universe. Would the old, dead Logan’s social security number be his now? Was it the same one he’d had in his old universe? If it was, did the dead Logan have any bank accounts he’d left behind? Maybe he could try to find out about those. “I’ll pay you back when I figure out how to get a job,”
“Don’t worry about it,” Wade said. “You could pay me back by not wearing them actually,”
Logan rolled his eyes. He looked through contents of the bag. Wade had bought him some sweatpants, jeans, a zip up hoodie, a pack of boxers, and a three pack of Hanes tank tops.
Something in Logan’s face must have given away his thoughts because Wade grinned sleazily and said “Sorry it’s no leather jacket, but it’s summer, snookums. Don’t want you getting heat stroke,”
“I’ll give you some sort of stroke,” Logan growled.
“Oh, would you really? I’ve been waiting so patiently—“
“Fuck off! Not that fuckin’ kind of stroke, you whore.” Logan threw the plastic package of tank tops at him.
Wade ducked and sighed with extreme exaggeration. “I guess we’re waiting some more, little guy,” He whispered downwards.
Logan rolled his eyes. “You better be talking to Dogpool,”
“Ewwwww,” Wade said
“Will you homos shut up, I’m trying to listen to Wheel of Fortune.” Blind Al interrupted.
Wade put the dog down and shuffled through a stack of mail, while Logan picked up the pack of tank tops along with the rest of the clothes and deposited them in their shared bedroom. He put away most of the clothes in the bottom drawer, next to his Wolverine pants, replacing the cowl chewed on by Mary Puppins there as well. On the bed, he left out the sweats, zip up, and one of the tank tops. He would change into them after he showered. He would be glad to be rid of Wade’s Minion shirts and goofy print boxers. Maybe he would miss the smell of Wade that clung to them though. Only a little.
Wade had wheedled Logan into sharing his Queen-sized bed with him. Logan had planned on sleeping on the couch when Wade invited him to stay, but the man had insisted even with mutant-fueled-regeneration abilities it would fuck Logan’s old man back up irreparably to sleep on it. It was a weak excuse, and Logan feigned grudgingness, but privately felt comforted having Wade’s warmth next to him at night.
Wade had made countless innuendos about it both in and out of the bed, but surprisingly, in practice had kept his hands to himself. Really, any of the contact they shared in the bed was Logan’s fault. The bed was small for two grown men, and he had woken up to them snuggling a few times. Okay, more than a few times. Every single morning, if he was being truthful. It was Logan who curled heavily around Wade, lying nearly half on top of him. The other man snored under the suffocating weight of him though, as if he made the best blanket in the world. So far, Logan was always able to creep out of bed unnoticed, covering him with the actual blanket before he went to make coffee.
He tried not to read into his cuddling too much. It was probably just because he’d slept alone for so goddamn long that his body unconsciously was reaching out for what it had been missing. It was the first time in ages that Logan could sleep beside someone else without fear, because even if he did awake from a nightmare, claws out and deep in Wade’s body, Wade would be fine. He probably wouldn’t even care, except to be sad about the loss of whatever goofy pajamas he was wearing. Luckily, so far he had not stabbed Wade during the night.
So yeah, it was really fucking nice and Logan didn’t want to ruin it by thinking too hard about why he did it, or why he enjoyed it.
Logan reentered the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, shaking off his thoughts about bed-sharing.
“This also came for you, hot-stuff,” Wade said, flicking an envelope at him.
Logan looked at the envelope, brow furrowed.
Who could possibly be sending mail to him? No one in this universe knew him except Wade and his friends and the TVA people. No return address…
He slit the envelope with a fingernail.
“No claws?” Wade said.
Logan scowled.
He unfolded the paper inside and scanned it.
“You look like you need glasses, squinting like that. You’d look really cute with some reading glasses, actually. It would add a special something to your sexy grandpa vibes,” Wade said. Logan ignored him. “Well? Is it jury duty summons? They’re on top that shit. Or did’ja win an all inclusive trip to Mexico? God, I hope so. I’ve been hoping we could go on our honeymoon soon,”
“It’s from the X-Men of this universe,” Logan said.
“Oh,” Wade seemed genuinely surprised. “What do they want?
“They want me to join again,”
“Makes sense that they want you, you singlehandedly carried every X-Men movie after X2. Everyone knows the Fox franchise was never going to—”
Logan carefully observed the way that Wade spoke. His tone was as chipper as usual, but there was an undercurrent of something Logan couldn’t put his finger on.
“—And the franchise never resolved their fucked up timelines like Marvel does. When they put Logan down, they put the whole franchise down with him,”
Logan rolled his eyes, crumpling the letter and throwing it in the bin.
Wade’s eyes bulged and he grabbed the ball off the top. “Why are you throwing it away?”
“What else am I gonna do with it?” Logan said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.
“Um, I mean I guess they don’t need this for you to prove you’re you,“ He said, smoothing the letter and scanning it for himself.
“I’ve told you, I’m retired.”
“Okay, so? It doesn’t hurt to go down there and say hello!”
“I’m not goin’ down there,” He chuckled harshly.
“Oh, yes you are mister!”
Logan glared at him. He felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach at the thought of meeting the X-Men of this universe. Seeing them in the flesh, but not them… The same faces he had seen as corpses, but reanimated in some sick, bizarre joke on him. He supposed they might feel the same about him, uneasy to see him standing where their Logan had stood. They had invited him though, to rejoin the X-Men. Maybe it would be cathartic to see them, not painful. Then again, it could end up being exceptionally painful and lead him to cleaning out a liquor store.
“I’ll think about it,” He grumbled.