Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Are you in one of your moods again?” 

“Leave it.” Logan could just feel Wade rolling his eyes, hovering over his shoulder. The hair along the back of his neck stood up. Small pin pricks of irritation and rising temper. 

“So you are.” Wade placed his hands down on the table, standing beside the hunched over Logan. “Look, normally I just let you do your thing—whatever the hell it is, but you’ve been like this for days now!” Logan only gritted his teeth. He just wanted peace and quiet.

“I said, leave it.” 

“Talk to me, peanut. What the shit happened? Why are you shutting down. You know damn well you can’t shut me out—but hey, I commemorate you for trying. Valiant effort, rea—,” Logan took in a breath and stood abruptly. The chair toppled over from the force and he turned to face the other. 

“Just give me some goddamn silence, just for a moment. One fucking second. I’m tired of hearin’ your mouth in my ear, all the damn time, you’re a fuckin’ alarm clock I can never shut up so I’m always fuckin’ awake!” His words came out with much more venom than he had intended, each sentence ending with a viscous sneer. 

Without Wade’s mask, it was much easier to read him. His muscles were tense—their eyes locked uncomfortably together. Wade’s face was still, but Logan knew he had gone too far again. But fuck—what the hell was he supposed to do? He wasn’t good at pressure, he wasn’t good at handling his temper. He blew off the handle without much force at all. Huffs of breath escaped his chest and his nose, a wild beast untamed. 

“I can’t just turn it off, bub. Things were better—I thought—I was better.” His anger faltered, ebbing and flowing like a tidal wave. Then it crashed down over his psyche again, “I’m not fuckin’ better, I’m not! So get off’a me! Nothin’ is fixed for me, bub!” 

Wade raised his hands in a calming motion. Trying to settle down some feral animal. Logan wasn’t feral—he felt like he might be. It only roused his anger more and he was all but snarling at the other man. He wasn’t sure why he was acting this way, the rage numbed his mind. 

“Hey—hey,” Logan looked around the room. He was slowly slipping over that edge. Though he wasn’t sure what waited at the bottom. Wade reached for his forearm and he jerked away, his claws extending out defensively with a head-spinning speed. 

“Don’t touch me, bub. Not right now.” The silver blades slowly retracted. “Just—fuckin’ leave it.” Logan quickly moved from the table, grabbing his coat from the shabby coat hanger before pulling it on while he was headed through the front door. Wade didn’t call after him, and Logan was glad because he knew if he did, his body wouldn’t let him walk away. Not anymore.

His feet carried him down the street sidewalks. His senses seemed incredibly heightened and uncomfortable. Everyone was too loud. Everything was too bright. The aromas in the air mixed together into a disgusting stench—people, just people everywhere. Humans everywhere. 

Logan’s hands were shoved tight into the jacket pockets. They all looked at him like he didn’t belong. They all knew what he was, and what he was capable of.

He shook his head and stumbled quickly into an alleyway. The air was cold and damp, but his skin was burning up. Logan had moved past all the thoughts and beliefs he once had of humans. Of their nature—their intelligence, and their worth as living beings. Because in truth, he could only blame himself for what happened. 

Wade had been one of the first people to tell him that it wasn’t entirely his fault. The bastard wasn’t perfect either but he could be good when he needed to. He could. And all Logan had done was shout in his face, sometimes even brutally attack him. Wade always fought back, but it didn’t make him any less of an aggressor. 

The rage welled up again and his hands shot out of his pockets just in time to avoid shredding the fabric as his claws extended. His attention quickly turned to the rusty metal dumpster against the brick wall, letting out a near agonizing cry as he dragged his claws through the metal surface like it was nothing.

Trash spilled through the gaps, the sharp scraping noise still ringing in his ears long after his claws had slipped back in. 

“You cool, buddy?” Logan quickly spun to face the voice. An older man was leaning out of a doorway from the building. His shoulders were tense—hackles raised. But then he slowly smoothed out. He glanced toward the decimated dumpster.

”That yours?” 

“Used to be. What’d ya do to it?” Logan grunted low in his throat. The shame quickly replaced the anger. 

“I’m sorry.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket, reaching to pull out money to pay for the damage he did. 

“Ah—I don’t want your money. Just do me a favor, son. Stop actin’ like a young punk. Get your shit together.” Logan stared at him a long moment. ‘Son’. He was basically 200 fucking years old. But he still sometimes felt like a hotheaded 20 year old. He was a mess.

”Eh…thanks, bub.” The man nodded, then disappeared back into the building, leaving Logan to himself once more. The pounding in his heart at slowed to a more reasonable pace, and his skin was steadily cooling off. 

But his feet weren’t done carrying him quite just yet. 

The chair creaked in protest under his weight as he sat down. It had been a long time since he found himself in a place like this, with his ass glued to the seat and looking down a bottle. 

It had been a long time, and Logan thought he might actually not see it again soon. But old habits die hard, and at least at this bar he wouldn’t be denied due to his history. His gaze followed a man sitting beside a woman. She looked increasingly uncomfortable. Logan turned his gaze back to the bartender. 

“Whiskey.” 

“…Just whiskey?” Logan grunted in response and the bartender nodded, pouring him a glass. The scent of it was stronger than it had been when he was drinking constantly. He had to keep drinking, because otherwise he just wouldn’t be drunk at all. 

In fact if he really wanted to he could probably drink the establishments entire supply all by himself. A bar business could stay afloat for months just on the back of one traumatized Wolverine. He felt like a joke.

Maybe Wade had wormed inside his brain and was still cracking wise in the back of his mind. Logan might have even admitted that he liked it on a good day. It was never a dull moment with that mouth. In more ways than one…

Wade was someone who never gave up, despite how fucking unlucky everyone who had the displeasure of experiencing his sickening determination was. Even when he really should have fucking quit, he’d keep going. It was both one of his best traits and his worst. 

Logan wished he had his drive. Maybe if he was younger—100 years younger, he would. The only thing his mind had ever driven him toward was total avoidance and isolation. An innate fact of him…he would always have some wall up, some impossible climb to reach even just the middle ground of his inner self. 

And Wade clawed up and over every single one. Fucking prick. 

Logan finished off his glass, tapping the bar for another fill. He felt shameful and pathetic as he tipped the next glass back. Part of him wished that none of this bullshit with Wade had ever happened, so he wouldn’t have the displeasure of being conscious of the fact that he could improve but just—didn’t. 

He just didn’t. It was easier to blame it on his DNA than to accept that he just didn’t try hard enough. Somehow he knew that he was just being hard on himself, punishing every misstep and every outburst as if it was the same thing that started it all. 

The chair next to him creaked.

”Drowning your sorrows all by yourself, handsome?” 

Logan didn’t have to look to know who it was—both by scent and the annoying, blood boiling voice. But still, he looked anyway. Wade was wearing some stupid blue ball cap and a brown, heavy coat. An equally stupid grin crossed his face. 

Chapter Text

“What are you doin’ here, bub?” 

“Oh, y’know…” Wade delicately traced his finger across the counter top, shrugging his shoulders lightly. Wade knew exactly what he was doing here, and unfortunately for Logan he was not keen on giving it up. “You come here often?” The bartender shot them a strange look, but it reflected off Wade.

”What the hell is this?” Logan had given Wade that precious scowl which also held much confusion. Wade sighed and stopped tracing his finger.

”Just work with me here, peanut.” Wade paused as Logan finished the rest of his drink. Then, their gazes locked and Wade could see Logan tapping the bar from his periphery. Score.

”What’s a strong…powerful man like yourself doing in a place like this?” Logan grunted, throwing back the next glass. 

“This man…a fuckin’ idiot, thick headed prick. He just doesn’t know when to quit, when to cut his fuckin’ losses.” Logan tapped the bar again, Wade’s gaze on him didn’t falter. It was pretty clear who he was talking about, but Wade wanted to see where this went. He could tell Logan wanted to see where it went too, because he was entertaining his antics to begin with. Logan cleared his throat.

”He deserves better than me. Someone who isn’t fuckin’ losin’ his temper, who’s goddamn broken no matter how many chances he gets. I feel…I feel guilty, for yellin’ at him. But fuck, he just presses all my buttons and—.” Wade subconsciously leaned closer. Logan opened his mouth to say something. But then he closed it, finishing off another glass. “So that’s why I’m in a place like this.”

Wade had to reel in whatever emotions were welling in his chest. That was the most Logan had spoken in 3 days, hell it was probably the most he had spoken in a month. 

“Well you know what I think big guy?” Logan raised an eyebrow toward him. “I think that thick headed prick isn’t ever gonna give up, and you just have to live with that.” He thought he might have seen a smile twitch at the corners of Logan’s lips, but he took a drink soon after. 

“You are somethin’ else, Wade.” His heart skipped a beat in his chest. Wade. Holy fucking balls he actually said his name. Wade. Not bub, not prick, not asshole, not dumbass. Wade. 

“I want you to fuck me.” Logan spit out his drink and started sputtering, gaining the bartender’s irritated attention. 

“Fuck—what?”

”You heard me, peanut.” Logan sputtered more and set the glass aside, having spilled it all over himself. Then, he was standing from the bar chair, mumbling apologies to the bartender. He was cute when he was flustered. 

“I’m goin’ to the bathroom.” Logan only shot that sentence over his shoulder as he was quickly storming to the door. Wade, naturally, followed after on his heels. He was just reaching the door as it closed after Logan. Once he was inside, he found the other man at the sink, splashing water on his face and trying dry his coat with paper towels. 

“So is that a yes or—? Consent is very important to me, Wolvie.” Logan looked utterly bewildered, or actually…if Wade looked closer, there was something else there. 

“Where is this comin’ from.” Logan would only glance at him in the reflection of the mirror. Wade could only laugh at his question. 

“Wow, uh, I don’t know, peanut. Maybe me fucking flirting with you since the day we met? That might be a start. I mean shit, I’m still not over what happened in that Honda Odyssey. You’ve had to have known about it.” Logan had stopped patting down his coat and tossed the paper towels in the trash. 

“Don’t mind me being straightforward but you are sexy as FUCK and I honestly can’t name a thing about you that I haven’t jerked off to.” The other man turned to face him. 

“What the fuck are you sayin’ right now.” Normally Logan had a glare—a scowl, any number of pissed off expressions. But right now his face was startlingly cold. Wade could not for the life of him get a read on the man. 

“I’m saying I want you to fuck me up. With your dick. Maybe your claws too. Scratch that, definitely your claws—pun intended.”

Wade’s life flashed before his eyes as the man in front of him pounced. He was virtually unable to be killed, but that didn’t stop his heart from dropping into his nether regions whenever Logan was lunging at him. 

No amount of healing factor could stop the pure unbridled fear that seized you when the fucking Wolverine was coming at you. Wade blinked and then the back of his head was smacking into the stall. The entire door rattled from the impact and Wade was briefly impressed at its integrity. 

He could already feel Logan’s hand firmly wrapping around the base of his jaw, the man’s nose pressed against the skin of his neck. Wade had waited a long time to feel that uncomfortable scratchy feeling of facial hair against skin. And fuck yes he was ready. 

“Fuck, get in…get the fuck in…” Logan pulled Wade aside to open the stall door, still practically holding the merc by the neck. They both clambered inside the tight space and Wade would soon find himself on his knees in front of Logan.

Imagine that, Deadpool on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom about to suck off the Wolverine. Holy shit, right? Wade’s heart was doing jumping jacks in his chest. It was only then when he looked up at the other man that he felt…nervous. He had sex plenty of times before, but after all his talk and his flirting—oh god, was he all bark, no bite? 

The jingling of Logan’s belt filled the space as Wade pulled it loose, unzipping the jeans and then…

”I wish I had my katanas so I could get through all this dense bush.” Logan growled and Wade knew he was just trying to stall. Who wouldn’t be shaking in their boots when presented with…all of Logan.

He was already partially hard, so Wade wouldn’t have to work on that part too much. He was just glad that Logan’s whiskey dick of the claws didn’t also apply to, well, his dick. Even after 100 years it seemed he was perfectly fine down there. Though if he was being honest, Wade would have fucked him either way. 

At long last he was lowering his head. But he wasn’t too keen on ‘getting this over with’, so at first he just set to work placing kisses and licks along his head and length. Even just that was enough to get the man worked up. A relaxed groan rumbled above in Logan’s chest. The poor guy probably hadn’t fucked in a long while, let alone received this kind of attention. 

Wade felt his hand at the back of his neck, the other gripping onto the hoodie of his coat. As he got closer to taking more of Logan into his mouth, a particularly smell started to become more and more powerful. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a sweet scent either. 

It was the same smell Logan normally had—except dialed up to 100.

”Fuck, yeah…keep doin’ that.” Logan’s voice was a mumble, and Wade glanced up to peek at him. His pupils were dilated enough to make his iris appear as if they were pitch black. Seeing the way the shadow cast on his face in the harsh bathroom light was enough to get Wade going all by itself. 

Wade had taken all of him in, nose pressed to the aforementioned bush of dark hair, which Wade could see sneak peeks of it traveling upward in a happy trail. Hollowing out his cheeks and swirling his tongue around.

But without much warning, Logan suddenly leaned a bit forward, and his hand on Wade’s head became more firm. Only a split second passed before Logan was sloppily bucking his hips into Wade’s face.

A heads up would have been nice. But Wade rolled with it, because the sound of Logan grunting and huffing above him was like music to his ears. Although tears had begun to trickle their way from his eyes, and he could feel his lungs tightening, he didn’t fight it. Even as Logan curled over him, the thrusts becoming more jerky and slowed.

Even as he came through gritted teeth, nostrils flared. Wade just swallowed every bit, and it was fucking salty, with a tinge of whiskey. 

The most startling part had been when Logan pulled himself from Wade’s mouth. There was no hesitation, no exhaustion as he pulled Wade up to his feet and pressed his face against the tiled wall. Logan had just came hard, but you wouldn’t have been able to guess. Wade knew he was in for a ride right at that moment. 

Logan was pressed right up against him, that hot breath blowing at his neck. Wade was sandwiched between the hottest fucking man alive and a shitty bar bathroom wall. 

Wade jumped as he heard a quick, familiar snikt noise accompanied by fabric shedding. The cold adamantium just barely grazed his ass and thigh. Logan pressed his hips up against him—,

”Easy tiger…hold on—,” Wade reached into his pocket, pulling out a bottle of lube and reaching back to hand it to the Wolverine. 

There was silence as Logan took the bottle. Then there wasn’t, “You just carry lube around all the time?” 

“No, that would be ridiculous…I planned ahead of time.” Wade shrugged and listened to the pop of the cap, and then Logan grunting as he was likely faced with the cold lube. 

“How long have you wanted me to do this?” Wade could feel the other man’s cock prodding at him.

”Longer than you can possibly comprehend, big guy.” That was all Logan needed to begin pushing his way in. One good thing about healing factor is that you never have to worry about it being too big to fit. (Within reason, of course.) The stretching and friction would hurt, and then it would fade away just as quickly.

Logan huffed into his ear, his chest pressing against Wade’s back. “For all the talkin’…you are tight as fuck.” Wade cheekily wiggled himself against the other.

”Damn right I am. Be a good little honey badger and fuck me already!” That earned a low growl from Logan,

”Shut up.” Wade would not shut up. Per usual. 

“You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to get me to shut up, pal.” The quick snikt of adamantium claws. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Ye—,” Logan grunted and dragged his claws down Wade’s back, shredding his nice heavy coat and his back as well. Wade arched himself and let out a strained groan, the warm blood trailing down his skin, though it quickly became cold in the open air. It wouldn’t be long before the large gashes started to close up, but the feeling of it raking down his back lasted.

”Shit…fucking shit…” Wade shivered as Logan bucked his hips into him. Logan turned to his neck and pressed his teeth into the flesh, biting down hard enough to nearly take a chunk. The feeling went up and down Wade’s spine as he squirmed. 

“Good, mouth. Think I like you better squirmin’ and whinin’ under me.” The reaction to his words were visceral. Did his cock just jump? Logan began thrusting steadily then. Each and every movement felt magnified. 

But it wasn’t enough. Even though Wade was panting and his mind was going numb. He knew Logan was holding back on him. Logan was moaning in a deep rumbling tone that almost sounded like a purr. Wade reached into his pocket again. He was just full of gadgets tonight.

”Baby—hff—knife!” Logan’s movements stuttered and Wade twisted to jab the little blade into his shoulder. Logan groaned—or growled, or yelled, they all mixed together. His fist pounded into the wall, cracking the tile and brick beside Wade’s head. 

“Fuckin’ asshole!” Within seconds, Logan’s pace had become violent and punishing. It was exactly what Wade had wanted. The smell of blood and Logan’s now suffocating aroma mixed together and made his head spin. Logan made his head spin. 


“…Oh shit…good boy, Wolvie…” The sighs and whimpers and groans echoed in the small restroom. It was a miracle no one had entered since they first started. 

“Say that again.” The other man sounded like he was on cloud 9. Way better than cocaine.

”What? That you’re a good boy? You’re so—fuckin’ good…shit, I love ya, peanut.” Wade felt Logan’s arms wrap around his chest, the claws extended and leaving cuts along his skin as he moved. 

“Yeah…I’m good. I…” Logan hesitated. Wade’s hands shakily felt for the blades of his claws, holding onto them. They cut his fingers, smearing blood all over his hands. “I think—ghff—I love you too.” 

Wade held his hands under the running water, watching the water turn a tint of red, then pink, then clear. Logan’s jacket was wrapped snuggly around him, and the tattered remains of his coat were used as a makeshift skirt to make up for his shredded pants and underwear. 

Logan leaned against the bathroom door, sporting a white tank top. His weight prevented anyone from barging in. 

They both silently looked toward the stall. The splatters of blood dripped on the floor and across the door. The cracked wall. Wade sighed wistfully at their work.

“I think we better get outta here.” Logan’s previously tense and standoffish attitude had diminished greatly. Wade was just too good.

“Oh, most definitely. I’m still trying to save up for this month’s rent and I do NOT need to pay for whatever the hell happened here.” Logan stood from the door and waited for Wade to pass.

“I think it’s time you got a job, peanut.”

“I thought dealin’ with you was my job.”