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By the time the 6th month anniversary of them saving the multiverse comes around, Logan has reached four conclusions.
Conclusion #1: Living with Wade is like living with an overexcited Jack Russel puppy.
The man is perpetually in motion, a flurry of jerky movements and a consistent stream of words, most of them nonsensical. He talks to—and at—anyone who happens to be around (these days, mostly Logan), to himself, to an imaginary audience only he can see. It doesn't seem to matter whether he gets a reply.
Conclusion #2: Wade is the messiest clean-freak Logan's ever met in his two hundred years of life.
There doesn't seem to be a proper place for anything in their house. When they lived with Al, the mess was mostly contained to Wade's possessions, probably because Al would whack Wade on the head every time she couldn't find something. Now that they've moved out and into their own one-bedroom apartment, Logan feels like he spends half his time hunting down his stuff. However, for all the mess, the house is never dirty. At least once a week, Logan will come home from work to find Wade elbows-deep in suds, deep-cleaning the entire house. The way Wade nags at him to leave his dirty shoes at the door is oddly endearing, even if Logan would never admit it.
Conclusion #3: Living with Wade is torture, for none of the reasons you'd expect.
Because, conclusion #4: Logan is, once again, pathetically infatuated with someone who belongs to someone else.
And the thing is, before, he wouldn't have cared. He would have made a move on Wade, with or without Vanessa in the picture, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it. But, with Wade, it feels wrong. It feels wrong because Logan wants, above everything else, for Wade to be happy. If Vanessa makes Wade happy, then Logan won't get between them.
His… feelings for Wade are the kind that has you worrying about the happiness of the person you love, even if you're not the one they're finding it with, and that's terrifying. Logan hates it.
“Hey, Peanut, are you ready to go, or what? The author really wants to finish this fic before they start their internship, so we gotta get moving.”
Like 90% of what comes out of Wade's mouth, none of that makes any sense. Logan turns to him with the intention of saying precisely that, but stops in his tracks, faced with the sight of Wade in a pink sundress, most of his body on display. Somehow, Logan finds he has a smidge of brainpower left to be proud of Wade for not hiding himself the way he often does, while the rest of his brain cells are firmly focused on 1) sending all of his blood straight to his dick, and 2) trying not to get hard enough that Wade will notice. Not that Wade would mind; on the contrary, he’d be flattered. However, he would also make lewd comments and suggestions that Logan hates having to refuse. Better not to make it a thing at all. He pries his eyes away from the man in front of him, fighting off a blush. Oblivious as always, Wade chatters on.
“And I was thinking, after your interview, we could get bubble tea! We’ll make it a celebratory boba if you get the job, and consolation boba if you don’t! But of course you’ll get it, I mean, how could anyone take a look at those arms and not give you whatever you want? Although, are you sure you don’t wanna go with the wife beater? Not that the flannel isn’t a good look on you, mind, but no-one can say no to those tits, trust me. I know I’d never,” he winks, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Anyways, chop chop, we got places to be.”
He looks up at the clock hanging on the wall, which has been stuck at 6.30pm for a good 3 months because none of them have bothered to change its batteries, and shrugs, walking backwards until he hits the door. He opens it still looking at Logan, hand searching for the doorknob behind him. Thankfully, he turns before reaching the staircase. Falling down three flights of stairs wouldn’t kill Wade, but it would hurt like a bitch, and Logan would be stuck listening to him whine about it for at least a day and a half.
Unfortunately, Wade turning to walk like a regular person means Logan gets a front-seat view of his ass swaying to whichever imaginary song he’s listening to while he climbs down the stairs. He stares shamelessly, the one indiscretion he allows himself. Wade is, technically, single, even if his heart belongs to someone else, even if it’s clear that Vanessa still loves him back. Besides, looking has never hurt anyone. Graciously, Logan lets himself not feel guilty about it.
He looks away as they reach the end of the staircase, before Wade can turn back to him and catch him staring. The second they walk through the door, Wade is blabbering on again, and he talks his way through the three blocks they have to walk to reach the construction site Logan applied to. He lets the sound of Wade's voice wash over him, drowning out his thoughts. At the door, Wade kisses Logan's cheek “for good luck”. Logan walks in with his cheeks burning.
He gets the job, like Wade had insisted he would, although not for the reasons he'd suggested. Or at least he hopes not. Regardless, he walks out of the room gainfully employed, and gives Wade a rare smile in response to his questioning look.
Wade whoops, jumping and clapping his hands. The dress billows around him as he bounds over to Logan, giving him an almost innocent look that really shouldn't suit him as much as it does. Logan bats at the hand Wade throws around his waist, but doesn't step away, allowing himself a small moment of weakness to enjoy the proximity of the other man, the perpetual slight chilliness of his skin a perfect contrast to Logan, who always runs hot.
Predictably, Wade chats the whole way to the bubble tea place, and then while they walk around the park nearby, drinks in hand. To his credit, he does let Logan speak for about 5 minutes straight, enough time for a play-by-play of his interview, given at Wade's insistence. Loathe as he is to admit it, Logan would rather let Wade talk, let his inane chatter fill him up to the brim with a kind of contentedness he's never felt before.
Lost in thought, he doesn't realise he's been staring at Wade's collarbones peeking out the top of his dress until the man stops talking, blinking up at him with a questioning look. If Logan didn't know better, he'd say Wade was trying for coy, even though the lack of eyebrows and eyelashes would have made him miss the goalpost by a mile. It still has butterflies fluttering to life in Logan’s stomach, and he curses himself for it.
“Peanut? Are you listening to me, or are you too distracted by my gorgeous features to focus on my words? I've been told I have good facial features but bad facial harmony. Or was it the other way around? I'm sure the kids around the mansion could tell you, that's a teenage thing I only pretend to get so I can have cool kid points,” he shrugs. “Personally, I think I have bad everything, but more than make up for it with my fat ass and lack of gag reflex.”
“I try to listen to you as little as possible,” Logan says, like a liar, unwilling to address any of the rest.
Wade gasps, one hand coming up to clutch at his chest, thankfully not the one still holding the half-empty bubble tea cup. Logan really doesn't want a repeat of the hot chocolate incident from a couple months ago: he's pretty sure the shirt he was wearing will never fully recover.
“I was saying we should go out for dinner tonight. I know it's game night, but none of them will mind if we skip. Actually, I think they’ll be happy I’m not showing up, they all keep complaining about me ‘cheating’, but I call it making use of my talents. I’m the best there is at what I do, but what I do best isn’t very nice, or whatever it was that you said.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve never said that in my life.”
Wade gasps again, an even more dramatic sound, “Really? But it’s such a good quote! So dark and mysterious! I can’t believe you never said that in your universe. Well, if you do now make sure to credit your bestie Deadpool. Anyways, thoughts on going out? Concerns, complaints? Prayers?”
Logan sighs, “Don’t you want to see Vanessa? You always hang out on game nights.”
Wade frowns at him. It looks weird on his face, usually sporting a grin or a smirk. It looks wrong.
“I see Vanessa plenty, we all hang out every week,” he glances away for a moment. “But we don’t have to go out, it was just an idea. I understand if you don’t want to be seen with all this,” he says, gesturing at himself. “I wouldn’t want to show you up with my dashing good looks.”
Wade’s voice is playful, but Logan can hear the real insecurity behind the words. He hates it, especially when he knows he’s the cause. He’d be happy to be seen with Wade; proud, even. He might not be considered attractive by most people’s standards, but Logan has grown to love his scarred skin, the way its pattern changes every moment, cells dying and regenerating in a different design. But his appearance isn’t as important as the way he makes Logan feel: safe in a way he hasn’t felt in decades, not since his last dinner with Charles, Scott, Jean, Storm and Beast, all of them sitting around the table, alive and well, trading loud bickering and insults with a loving undercurrent.
“Ain't got nothing to do with that,” Logan replies, voice an attempt at gentle that comes off more gruff than anything else. “Just thought you'd want to be with Vanessa since you're still tryin’ to win her back.”
Surprise replaces the insecurity in Wade's eyes, “Win her back? What are you talking about? Vanessa's happy with her kind hiker, and I'm—well. Point is, we haven't been together for a long time, and we're better as friends. I love seeing her, of course, but I thought it could be fun for us to go out, since we've never done that. But we don't have to. I mean—”
“Wade.”
“I understand if you'd rather go to game night. I know you've been enjoying getting to know Laura. You know you can always invite her to dinner, right? I'll let you have the house for a night if you want to be with her, daddy's gotta earn money anyway. And—”
“Wade.”
Wade quiets with a sheepish smile, “Yes?”
“You're not tryin’ to get Vanessa back?”
“The obvious part of all that speech is the one you focus on? I can't believe you've thought that all this time, that is sooo miscommunication tag-core. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of flirting with you and you just weren't interested. Which is fair! I wouldn't be either, I get it! Anyways, now that that's cleared up, we can move on pretending I never implied I like you in That Way. Capital letters and all.”
“Wade. Will you shut up for a second?”
Wade does, for once. They stare at each other, silent, while Logan reviews his understanding of the past six months through this new lens. He takes a chance. Before he can think on it too much, he reaches out a hand to grasp Wade's collar, pulling him in towards him. He slots their lips together, softer than he'd ever imagined their first kiss could be. Wade, for lack of a better word, melts against him, body going lax, their cups forgotten and left to fall on the floor. Logan supports his weight easily, relishes the heavy shape of Wade in his arms. They part for air, short panting breaths against each other’s mouths, sharing the same oxygen for a moment. Wade buries his head in Logan’s neck, suddenly shy, and Logan kisses his shoulder, uncharacteristically gentle.
“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” he whispers in Wade’s ear, and chuckles at the soft kiss that touches his neck in response.