Fucking Deadpool
The Wolverine had eventually found his way into sleep.
Wade had crept out eventually, he wasn't exactly sure of when. But he knew that Wade had asked him to get back into bed, he knew Wade had made some tea for him in a mug that said, 'I LOVE ME <3' and placed it beside the duvet, and that Wade had stayed talking quietly to him until Logan couldn't hear him anymore. Just like Logan was a kid who'd woken up from a nightmare, and Wade was his poor parent who sat up half the night consoling him until he could sleep soundly again. He'd wanted to make sure he was comfortable, and didn't leave his side until he was sure of that.
Who really was this guy?
When the Worst Logan met Wade Wilson, he had already decided in his head that he hated him. No amount of liquor could numb out his words, and there was no end to his comments. But it was shortly after spending time with Wade Wilson, or, rather, Deadpool, as it was, he realised they were meant to find each other. His genuine hatred quickly turned playful, a shift that not even he is fully sure that Wade felt, or if it even mattered to him. Call it pathetic, and God, it was, but when Wade first approached Logan, and told him he needed him, despite the circumstance, he finally felt like he mattered to something.
And also.. he had never had someone treat him the way he was treated in that fucking Honda Odyssey.
Neither of them had brought it up. It wasn't something that had to be brought up. Why would it? Nothing really happened. They frequently bickered when they first became acquainted, 'bickering' being quite violently hurting each other until they bled, and this was just another rodeo. But, for some reason, Logan couldn't shake it. In fact, he thought about it so much that it got on his fucking nerves. Why couldn't he just see it as Just Another Wolverine and Deadpool fight, and move on? Surely, Wade didn't think about it in this way, and this guy got a hard on when his body was tied against his whilst held captive. But, in fairness, Wade didn't seem to think about much at all.
It had started the way their fights tended to start. Wade ran his big, stupid mouth, and Logan in turn ran his mouth right back. It was Wade who wanted to make the first hit, saying, 'I am going to hit you now.' in such a deadpan, mocking voice. Logan had almost teased him back, questioning, 'Oh, are you?' before he was cut right off by a swift hit to his nose. And there it was. The usual roughness, vulgar language, blood and sweat all over his body.
Something about it was seductive. And Logan didn't want to think about why.
He'd, at points, have Deadpool below him, inbetween his legs, stabbing him hard and fast with his claws as he looked directly into his mask. Other times, Deadpool would turn him over and make advances from above, using his swords to slice into his skin quickly, seemingly completely unphased by the hard hits he was taking. Then, the bastard had decided to take hold of the seatbelt and wrap it around his neck in a poor attempt to strangle him, and it made Wolverine's blood boil. Not in a way that was entirely angry, though. Moreso, like he felt the urge to retaliate, to keep hitting him hard and fast and see who would tire themself out first. At one point, Deadpool was pushed forcefully out of the car window, landing in the bark of the forest surrounding them. Wolverine knew that they had a lot more space outside the car to fight properly. He knew that, yet he still beckoned for Deadpool to come back inside and join him as he waited, claws extracted, his leg resting up against the pushed down car seats, in a position he would not normally fight anybody in, ever.
"The Honda Odyssey fucks hard. Too bad you don't, needle dick."
What a fucking little flirt. Wolverine wanted him to die. But he didn't want to kill him.
"I'm just gettin' started, bub." If he wanted to do that, he could, too.
The situation intensified from there. Hard hits turned into desperate stabs. Wolverine couldn't keep track of where his claws were going, he was just slashing and cutting and heaving as he took Deadpool's attacks in his stride. He felt hungry, hungry for something more than this, but he couldn't tell what to do to make this fight more exciting. That was, until--
"Oh.. take me out for dinner first, huh, Peanut? Jesus, you think you know a guy."
What? Oh. He hadn't realised it, but he'd injected his claws right up Deadpool's ass, and Deadpool was sat arching diligently, not really sure where to go from here. Okay, this was different. Suddenly, Wolverine wasn't very concerned about hurting Deadpool as much.
"Shit. Uh, that wasn't on purpose." He quickly pulled them out, and sat hesitating for a moment. Deadpool was just kidding, clearly wanting to get back to fighting, but this bothered Wolverine a little bit, and again, he could not place as to why.
"Hey. You gonna get back to beating the fuck out of me, or you gonna sit and ponder about your sexuality? I don't care that you stabbed my ass right into anal sex territory. I believe it's rude to start a fight and not finish it."
That fucking mouth.
"Whatever. You shut up, now." He went right back to slashing, and stabbing, with the same thirst and hunger as he did previously. Everywhere. Taking purposeful jabs at Deadpool's groin area, too. And it seemed Deadpool wanted to retaliate.
"Fuuck!" The bastard had shoved his 'baby knife', or whatever he calls it, up the Wolverine's backside now, as a form of playful payback. And christ, did it hurt. Not only did it hurt, but the sensation wasn't like getting attacked from anywhere else on the body.
"Hey, you know, you have a lot of built up sexual tension. You might wanna work through that."
Wolverine couldn't believe he could still run his mouth during all of this. He wanted to shut him up for good now. They continued on.. fucking- no, fighting, no, what is this? What the fuck do you call this, fucked up, violent, bloody, hot altercation between two regenerating mutants in the confines of a small space? Wolverine didn't know, but he was trying so hard to pretend he was fully focused on fighting, and nothing else.
"Oh, so embarrassing. Do ignore that!" Deadpool had put on a silly voice, but you could tell something about him was a little off. Wolverine was towering over him, holding his head down and scraping his claws up and down his chest, when he noticed.
This dickhead was hard right now. That's the second time I have made him hard. So I guess it's not just me.
"You too?" Was all he could say. But he didn't stop. If anything, this fueled him to keep going, and fucking faster.
"You gonna put your claws back in me or do I have to ask?"
"What the fuck?"
He was so taken aback by this comment that again, he momentarily stopped the slashing. We are supposed to be fighting, asshole. Deadpool was not making this easy.
"You're kidding me?"
"Sure. Let's go with th-" But before he could finish his sentence, Wolverine had done what he was told. He stuck them so far up his ass and stretched his claws out from inside him, and sure, it hurt Deadpool a lot. He could hear his cries of pain, and that was good, that's what they were doing, fighting. That was all. But they both knew that they were both enjoying it.
This continued on. Deadpool took turns impaling Wolverine's asshole on the guise of this still being a very intense and deadly fight, they would switch from being on top, and on the bottom (the exact wording Wolverine formed in his head, but he shook the thoughts off) and the intensity of the 'fight' didn't die down until they both started wearing each other out.
He could tell he was getting sleepy. He could tell Deadpool was getting sleepy. It was that part of sex- no, fighting, where both parties can tell that it's coming to an end. He knew that, and still, he wanted Deadpool to be quiet for him, for him to stop running his stupid mouth.
Remembering what he had done to him previously, he quickly unravelled the seatbelt of the car and tied it round Deadpool's body as quick and as tight as he could, taking great care around his neck to make sure he was fully restrained. He did not know really why he was doing this, I mean, the seatbelt being tied around him wouldn't hurt so much, and he wasn't doing much to retaliate, but he wanted to. Why did he want to?
"That'll keep ya quiet, bub."
"Didn't realise you had this in you, Wolvie."
"I told you to shut the fuck up."
They both passed out shortly from there. Exhaustion. Blood loss, maybe. Who knows.
Logan tried not to think about what the fight in the Honda Odyssey meant to him. It felt wrong, it felt bad, it felt good, it felt fucking gratifying. Did he fuck Wade Wilson in that car? Did he-
"You're awake! You look like shit. Coffee?"
How long had he been standing there? The Wolverine shook his head, as if the physical action would shake out the thoughts clouding his mind. Clouding? More like bursting into fucking flames.
"..Sure, bub. Don't you dare put sugar in it."
-