“Wait, are you wearing my sweatshirt?”
“It’s the only decent piece of clothing you own,” Logan replied, continuing to walk beside Wade, the smell of New York and then something else invading his senses in an aggressive manner.
Perhaps it was the fact that this was their weekly routine slash ritual, but it felt comforting to walk side by side, dusk setting in and the not-too far away smell of pizza already feeling like it’s been forever since they walk with their shoulders brushing to Tony’s each Thursday afternoon. The pizza had been mediocre the first time around, Logan wasn’t interested in going back; but everything about Wade was completely unpredictable and senseless, so they were sat in the same spot the next week, ordering the same slices and sipping god knows what Wade orders them both.
Wade gasped comically, stopping dead in his tracks to glance at Logan. “Decent? Wait, you found my panties?”
“You only own pink stuff,” Logan grunted and ignoring his words, gripping the mercenary by the forearm and pulling him to continue their synced stroll.
“Well, this teeshirt,” he said, grabbing his shirt by the edge, stomach revealing for a moment, “is not pink, so, you lose.”
The thing is, Logan still couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened two days ago. They’d been plastered to the ground –all thanks to cheap whiskey, a considerable amount of a suspicious electric blue-coloured liquid that had in big letters: “Vodka”, Al’s stash of wine (she was pissed) and Al’s last stash of coke (she was double pissed, but Wade was solely responsible, and Logan made sure to mention that)– and they’d sat on the living room, shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning like the wasted motherfuckers they were, Wade spilling jokes and Logan unable to suppress his laughter, he’d felt his stomach turn around so many times, and he’d forgotten how that felt. And then Logan went ahead and almost fucked up everything by nearly kissing Wade, before Al’s keys were loudly unlocking the door from outside (the doorlock was in dire need of some oiling) and Logan jumped far from Wade, proceeding to act as if nothing had happened (Logan was instantly sober by then).
The day after, they worked on breakfast early in the morning, neither Wade or Logan said anything, and before Logan could even sit down and taste their pancakes and cheese sandwiches, Wade received a call and left with due to a quote unquote last-minute job. He didn’t mention last night or what had happened, at all, not even to tease Logan. Which was weird because Wade always said what he was thinking. In fact, Wade said things he most likely hadn’t even stopped to think about, just puking words out. So Logan, in a very old-fashioned-Logan manner, chose to not say anything either. If it meant something to Wade, he would say something. But because he didn’t say anything, the only logical thing left to do was to assume he did not care. Wade didn’t care that Logan almost kissed him, and that was it. What had turned out to be an issue from the start of Logan’s relocation was the lack of bedrooms. Al had her own, and there was no arguing that, so they shared a room, their mattress king sized in order to fit both of them comfortably. Logan didn’t have an issue, and neither did Wade, but such a domestic space being shared among the two meant that Logan had only proved to be an aggravating agent to Logan’s infatuation for Wade. That being said, having a king mattress meant that, as much as they were sharing a bedroom, they had enough space to sleep away from each other, far off of each other’s touch. And, it was probably for the best, since Logan had to stop thinking about Wade like that.
And there they were, sitting on the booth farthest from the door of Tony’s Pizza, facing each other. Wade was playing with his napkin, folding and unfolding it in the corners, making different triangle shapes.
“You know, Al thinks you’re emotionally constipated,” Wade blurted, amid their brief silence.
Logan could only huff, not knowing what to answer because– well, he could either be honest about it, but that would only end badly, or he could lie, but that would upset Wade –even if he didn’t say it, Logan could tell it upset him when Logan wasn’t honest about these things.
He could see, live and clear, the way Wade was thinking of a way to retract, maybe lead the conversation towards humour since Logan didn’t respond. “And she says I should sew my mouth shut sometimes, so who really understands her?”
Maybe he could be vague, but not unresponsive. “I guess that’s the result of the amount of years I have on me, bub.”
Wade’s expression shifted ever so slightly (Logan was getting really good at reading Wade, though don’t mention it to him) to one akin to softness, understanding, “I get it. Well, you have a big advantage on me in experience since you're old old, but life is a bitch, like, most of the time, so yeah.”
Their pizza arrived, the topic shifted and Wade talked while Logan listened to him tell a story of the first time he time-travelled. Logan was confused from the start, and halfway through, he zoned out but remained looking at Wade as the sun shifted and the sky became darker behind him. He felt so intoxicated by how much he felt for the man. He decided then that he was doomed to go pining for all sorts of people who would never want him. It felt cruel, but he also was angry at himself for falling again. Perhaps even harder, since his life revolved around Wade, being with Wade, killing with Wade, fighting with Wade, sleeping with Wade (literally), loving Wade? Fuck.
“I was thinking of getting this plant I saw the other day in the market, give it a home you know? Maybe keep it far out of reach from Miss Mary, we don’t want it to die, so, up in the fridge or something, what do you think peanut?”
“What type of plant is it?”
“Cactus, or cacti? Why not two or three? They’re all homeless, it’s sad.”
Logan smiled, “Cactus?”
“They’re like you, all prickly. It’s only right to get cacti– I love saying cacti, it sounds really goofy, doesn’t it?”
Logan couldn't help but smile. “It’s just a word.”
“Still, s’funny.”
Tony’s pizza had grown on Logan. Maybe they had improved the quality of their ingredients in the last week, maybe they changed the recipe (had it been months? Logan was not keeping track, why would he?); or simply, Logan had grown to enjoy the pizza because it meant he had a reason to be with Wade. He felt like a teenager every time he had to find an excuse to hang out with him, or seek out his company at times when Wade was not invading every second of his day. Sometimes Wade got all quiet on him, other times he was out of their apartment all day long and returned very late at night, so late that Logan couldn’t muster the courage to ask anything of him, not when he returned so tired, not when Wade had already given him the world and more.
The thought of intruding his life, this universe’s lives, was something he still couldn’t move on from. He felt selfish when he seeked out time with Laura, it felt like she was doing him a favour, even though she was so honest and she genuinely likes spending time with him –she’s told him so, he reminds himself– so there would be no reason to feel like a burden. But he also hates the idea of stepping into their lives unwanted, unasked for. Wade had asked him to stay, but people can grow tired of Logan, anything was possible. Maybe he’d overstepped, maybe Wade would withdraw from him, doing it slowly so as to not hurt him, because that was Wade, but still putting some space between them. And here he was again, intruding, unwanted, undeserving.
Then Wade was interrupting his never-ending train of destructive thoughts. “Babycakes? Loges? Are you alright?”
They were already walking back to their home (Logan felt his chest ache at the thought of the night ending), and Logan felt like lying, it was second nature after all. He didn’t, “I’m sorry if I overstepped the other day.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Logan turned away, picking up his pace ever so slightly to remove himself from Wade’s side. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”
“Wait, no, let me reca– ah! You mean the Kosako Vodka experience, featuring some snowy hills? Well, yeah, Al was rather unfortunate with her timing but–”
“You haven’t brought it up.”
“I guess I was waiting for you, I didn’t want to pressure you baby.”
“Wade.”
“I’m serious! Dead, completely serious. You’re like a kitten, you get scared off so easily, so I didn’t want to push you to anything.”
So Wade already knew Logan was head over fucking heels? Well, fuck.
He then continued to walk, trying to act as if there was nothing wrong with him, away from Wade in a mix of embarrassment and sadness that his tiny hope of Wade feeling slightly similar to him was gone.
Wade was catching up to him, placing his hand on Logan’s shoulder to stop him then drawing back. Logan felt trapped. “Wade, I’m sorry, I won’t do anything to make us fucking weird like that if that's not– it’ll pass and I can- we can pretend this bullshit never happened–”
“Wolvie, Wolvie,” Wade said impatiently, trying to get his attention by grabbing his wrist, squeezing on a tender spot, “baby.”
Logan was this close to losing balance and falling to the pavement, “ don’t call me that.”
They were already outside the building of their apartment, night sky above them, “I call you so many stupid–”
“You’re making this harder, you fucking idiot.”
Wade then stepped closer, not letting go of his hands, pressing a chaste kiss to Logan’s lips, and pulling away. “You are the sweetest human being.”
Wade’s lips were softer, slightly smaller than his. He was at a loss for words. He felt entranced as Wade smiled softly at him and intertwined their fingers, pulling Logan towards the entrance of their apartment complex, leading both of them inside, wordlessly. He let go once they were inside the elevator. It was the longest and shortest ride they’ve had.
Once they arrived and Wade was closing the door behind them, Logan felt like the silence might kill him, no coming back. “Wade?”
“You are very obtuse, you think I don’t want you?” The other man then gently pushed Logan to sit on the couch, Wade then sat beside him, their thighs fully against each other. He then continued talking, choosing every word with clear intention and care. “I didn’t know you were this insecure.”
Yet Logan then felt so incredibly pissed at himself, for even believing for a second that Wade would care, this was all a game and Logan was either dreaming or he was being fooled. His instinct took over and he just shoved Wade away from him, his chest twisting in a mix of anger and deep sadness he had no idea how to handle.
Wade yelped as he landed on the floor, barely catching his breath before Logan was on top of him, claws out in a threat, growling at him. Neither said a word, Logan’s chest heaving with inhale-exhale as he tried to clear his mind, get a hold of himself. “Don’t say things like that–” Logan began, but shortly he felt Wade’s baby knife stab his chest right in the centre (Logan felt whiplash), blood seeping into Wade’s sweatshirt.
“ Fuck , that’s my sweatshirt– why did I do that, ugh–” Wade sighed in frustration, “you need to stop telling me what to do, Logan, I swear I will beat the shit out of you if you keep doing this.”
Logan flinched back, face scrunching, annoyed but confused at Wade’s words.
“Logan, you can and are loved, you need to get that through your brain.”
“Wade–”
“No, for once in your life, you deserve that, you owe yourself that, at least.”
Logan fell to the side, now sitting on the floor beside Wade, who was still laying on his back, his head lolled to the left, eyes locked in Logan’s. Logan did the only thing he could do, because he had no words, and laid beside Wade, looking to the ceiling for a moment, then closing his eyes.
They both lay there, breathing in a synchronised (not really) rhythm.
After a few minutes, Logan finally felt his heart rate somewhat normal, his chest didn’t feel as heavy. “Where’s Al and your pup?”
“You mean, our pup? She’s with Al, I asked her to babysit while we were on our date, she’s probably in her room, asleep, like the old lady she is.”
Akin to a fiery ember, Logan felt the urge to let out some of the pressure, he never really said what he meant, especially to Wade. “I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”
Wade remained still, quiet as ever before speaking up in a hushed tone, as if they were surrounded by the world watching them (except there was only Al (maybe) listening, and that didn’t bother Logan) and he wanted the moment to remain as intimate as possible. Logan’s chest ached, and his head hurt, he felt tired, but so full of . “You won’t lose me.”
Perhaps there should’ve been more need, urgence , to explain to Logan what he meant, to explain in a million words why that was true-er than anything else. Logan should have felt less comforted by those simple words, but he felt them reach the bottom of his heart, and there they remained.
Then and there, Logan realised Wade’s presence in his life, and simply Wade as a whole, was more of a given fact within his own life, than death itself.
Logan turned to lay on his side, facing Wade who had his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, soft expression on his face. He pressed his lips on Wade’s lilac tee shirt-covered left shoulder, not quite but nearly kissing the spot and then resting his forehead there. Wade then placed his right hand on top of Logan’s head, just cradling him close.
△▽△▽
Only twenty minutes after they were laying in their bed, once more watching the intricate and innovative design of the roof, both in silence. It wasn’t anormal for Logan to remain quiet, but Wade always had something to say. They both knew it wasn’t that Wade didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to be as gentle as possible with Logan. Logan didn’t know what to do with that sole information.
Logan was so accustomed to wearing Wade’s clothes more often than not, but he felt self-conscious as he realised he was wearing one of the merc’s oversized shirts –Logan knew it was pink, but in the dark, he couldn’t tell, so getting annoyed about that was for tomorrow– and blue shorts he’d bought with Wade a day after saving the multiverse. Logan could smell Wade all over, all around the room, a familiar scent he found himself connecting to being home, from the get go.
In the dark, it was almost too easy to lift himself by his elbows, turning to his right where Wade was laying, and whispering words he’s choking to say, “I think I love you.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.”
It was almost too easy to turn his body towards the other man, reaching for his hand and placing a fully fleshed kiss on Wade’s knuckles. Logan couldn’t even properly see Wade in the dark, but he could hear his breathing hitch, and he could sense Wade lifting from the bed to kiss him for a second time in the night. Wade’s lips were tender, carefully bruising his, and Logan forgot how to inhale oxygen. The other man’s tongue then pressed on his parted lips, there wasn’t much else for Logan to do except fully part them, allowing Wade inside.
Logan had always imagined their first kiss in a heated, maybe anger-tinted, a fleeting moment that would lead them further. It wasn’t an idea he denied, but he felt his heart twinge and beat with such love he had for Wade, he wasn’t interested in going further for now, and neither was Wade, he realised, when he pulled away with a pop. Logan’s chest throbbed as Wade placed one last kiss on his lips, going back to laying his head on the pillow.
Wade exhaled, intertwining their hands. “I will never get over this.”
At last, Logan flopped back down to his side, and there they laid.
“Logan?”
“Mm?”
“I loved you first, for the record.”
The older man could only sigh, squeezing Wade’s hand. “You’re so annoying Wade.”