Chapter 1
Logan could pinpoint the moment when the tormenting thoughts had begun. They were technically finished with another mission the TVA had shackled them with. It was such a pain in the ass. Apparently, they had been so outstanding when handling the whole Paradox debacle that they should handle all multiversal variant situations. Bullshit, Logan had thought. They obviously just wanted to have a wolverine and deadpool on their side. They had been practically drooling over them during the debriefing Logan remembers. “They were probably preening over your gleaming chest, sugar tits” Wade chimed in.
Suddenly, one of the lackeys they somehow missed emerged from fuck knows where and lodged his machete into Logan's arm. Fuck he had caught him completely by surprise. Wade quickly served the asshole's head and rushed to his partner's side.
Logan gritted his teeth stifling a pained groan as he quickly ripped the machete from his arm. “Careful there honey badger. You're not exactly equipped with the Amazing Deadpool's Signature Regenerative Abilities!” Wade's tone shifted towards the end as if he were in a commercial. Logan could only reply with a quick eye roll and a mumbled, “dumbass.” He kept his hand harshly gripped into a fist waiting for his wound to heal. Logan grimaced, closing his eyes as he felt his muscles try to stitch themselves back together. He had gotten so lost in the painful feeling that he wasn't even able to suppress a jump at the feeling of cool fingertips on his forearm.
Logan looked down at the scarred hand then followed the trail of its attached owner until his eyes met those hidden behind white which bore into his. And the world did a strange thing. Wade had his mask pulled up to rest just above his nose. His teeth gripped his discarded red glove. Logan's senses seemed to kick into overdrive. A million different things ran through his mind. Wade's fingertips seemed to be burning into his skin. Somehow, Logan secretly wished they would leave a mark. He wanted wade to mark hi-
His blades shot out without warning, slicing off one of Wade's fingers to which he let out a small scream. “You dirty whore! Sorry. I didn't mean that. Why did you do that??” Wade whined nursing his hand. His words slurred by his glove. Logan spun on his heel and rushed for the exit. “You're an idiot.” He managed to croak out. He quickened his pace hoping to put what had just happened behind him.
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Living with the Merc with the Mouth hadn't been as much of a nightmare as Logan had initially thought. Both men had adjusted relatively well and even developed routines around each other. They even began to learn more about each other.
For instance, Logan had known that when Wade wore his mask outside of his ‘job,’ something was bothering him. So when Logan woke up to the sounds of paper loudly rustling on the other side of the living room and opened his eyes to see Wade, mask adorned, sitting criss crossed on the carpet, he felt somewhat concerned.
He sat up rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What're you doing, bub?” He grumbled, his voice still thick with sleepiness. Wade hummed in acknowledgement, clearly too deep in thought to process that Logan was awake. “Hm.” Logan repeated, grabbing a pillow then chucking it at Wade's head. He jolted out from his disassociating. He turned, fully aware of the other man now. “Oh, why good morning to you too, Calvin Klein.” He remarked as his head lowered to signify that his eyes were traveling down to Logan's black boxers. Heat rose to his cheeks as he cleared his throat, “what are you doing?” He huffed glaring towards the mess of papers scattered between them.
Wade made a noise of confusion following Logan's gaze and exclaiming upon seeing the papers. “Oh, just a gift for Vanessa.” Logan's eye twitched. “I was thinking of making her a scrapbook. Of course, I'm certain she'd appreciate the pictures to be of pre-ball sack Wade.”
Ah. There it was. Logan leaned forward, grabbing a photo off the floor. He had to admit, Wade had been pretty hot. Although, he much preferred Wade now. He was still incredibly attractive. His skin hasn't even bothered Logan recently. Despite the scarred tissue, it looked surprisingly soft. He wasn't gonna lie. Sometimes he imagined running his fingers up and down his body-
Logan crushed the photo in his fist barely stopping his blades from coming out. What. The fuck. Was that? Wade stared at the crumpled photo, “uh peanut? You have something you want to share?” “A gift? Another ploy to get Vanessa back?”
Wade hummed in agreement. “Not really. I'm not all that into getting her back with ploys anymore. She's happy now.” He signed. “It's her birthday soon. I'm trying to be nice L-O-L.” Logan stood up heading to the bathroom to get ready. “You don't have to be.” He offered.
Logan found himself in front of the bathroom mirror. His hand slowly rose and settled upon his chest. He gripped his shirt hard. He wanted to claw into his ribcage and tear his heart out. He wanted to see it impaled on his claws before him. He could feel the heat of his blush scorch his face. Logan wasn't unfamiliar with this feeling. He had felt it when Jean would flash him her knee-weakening smile. He felt it when Scott had attempted to intimidate him by glowering down at him but the only effect it had had was on his pants (suck it summers.) Okay, maybe he's felt it with many others after that. It didn't mean he wanted to feel it again. Especially with another friend. Fuck.