Chapter Text
Winter has taken hold of the city and a layer of frost has covered everything, forcing Logan deep into the Christmas spirit against his own will.
It's also made Wade so overprotective of Al he goes back to his old apartment every day to check that she has enough food and won't break her hip trying to go down the icy steps trying to get takeout.
It means Logan wakes up alone most mornings, just Puppins to keep the other side of the bed warm. He doesn't mind as much as he thought he would. He knows Al's been lonely over there without Wade, no matter how much she pretended to be indifferent to his leaving. She calls him every day, sometimes more than once just to yell at him. To ask him where he left the remote, or her medicine, or the paper plates.
Wade, as messy as he is, has never once left any of Al's things out of place. Neither Logan nor Wade mention it. Wade just smiles and lets her scold him.
He's taking longer to get back today, but he's bringing Al over for the party. Logan's sure Wade's driving slow as he can on the snowy roads if Al's with him.
Logan stayed home to finish cooking. Well, cooking is a strong word. He's making damn near a dozen frozen pizzas and serving every kind of chip and dip he could get at the grocery store.
Negasonic is on chip duty, dumping all the bags into bowls and lining the table with dips. Laura and Yukio saw Logan and Wade had put up the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room but hadn't gotten around to decorating yet, so they've busied themselves wrapping the whole thing in tinsel and lights.
Logan's never been big on holidays but Wade loves them, and he loves Wade.
They say that now. All the time. Way more often than is technically necessary. Logan likes how the words feel in his mouth. Likes the face Wade makes when he says ‘em.
He also likes the way they sound in Wade's voice, when they're directed at him. He likes when Wade says it in the morning over breakfast, likes when he says it with a kiss goodbye before he leaves for work. When he says it before he gets off the phone. When he whines it in Logan's ear. When he bites it into his shoulder.
He even said it in his sleep once. Logan kissed Wade's cheek while he drooled on Logan's favorite pillow. Couldn't help himself. “Love you,” Logan whispered, and Wade mumbled it back, slurred and sleepy without so much as opening his eyes.
There's a knock on the door and Laura breaks away to answer. She sniffs the door before she opens it.
“X-men are here,” she calls into the kitchen. “That alright with you, Logan?”
“Well, I fuckin’ invited them, didn't I? Let them in, it's freezing.”
“Just checking,” she huffs, and throws the door open.
Logan can smell them like they're standing right next to him as soon as the door's open. He grips the edge of the counter hard enough he worries about his security deposit. Breathes through his mouth. He knew he shouldn't have invited them. It was Wade's idea in the first place. He thought if Logan was on alright terms with this universe's X-men maybe the trauma of killing them would just magically disappear.
It doesn't. It's just as present as it's always been, even worse because he can smell them now. Scott, and Jean, and Storm, all ushered into the living room by Colossus.
He started small. Just them. But it's still too much. He can't tell if he's going to throw up or pass out when Negasonic appears at his side.
“I can wait to take the pizza out of the oven if you need to go sit down,” she says quietly, pretending she's looking for another chip bowl.
“I'm fine,” Logan says. He squeezes his eyes shut. The lights are hurting his head all of a sudden.
“You look super not fine,” she says.
“You wanna pour me a drink?” That's the only thing that might help. Numbing his senses.
“Wade told us you're not allowed to drink anymore. He banned me from giving you anything stronger than beer.”
“Whose side are you on?” Logan cracks one eye open to look at her.
She's not smiling, but she almost is. She's got the amused little twinkle in her eye that lets him know she's at least having fun.
Negasonic bustles around the kitchen like she owns the place and pours him a generous glass of whiskey. She grabs a beer for herself while she's at it and hops up to sit on the counter.
They clink their glasses together and Logan drinks half of his in one sip.
“Let me give you some advice,” she says. “There's no reason to get this worked up over a guy who wears khakis.”
Logan smiles. She doesn't, she's still too cool for that. She stays with him though. Talks to him about nothing important until he can breathe a little better.
It's been getting easier, his problems with his past. Wade's got all sorts of fancy names for it. PTSD and panic attacks. Logan doesn't like the labels, just thinks of it as his issues he's gotta get under control. Usually he sneaks off to his bedroom when he feels it coming on, waits out the shaking alone with his head between his knees. It's harder now that he and Wade share a bedroom.
Wade's only officially been living here for a little over a week, but he's already refused to let Logan slip into his usual routine.
If Logan tries to sneak off to go through it alone Wade will follow. He’ll hold Logan so tight he can’t feel like he’s falling. He’ll run his fingers through Logan’s hair, run his nails down Logan’s back, all sorts of soft, soothing touches.
He never judges Logan if he starts to sob. Full bodied, chest heaving sobs. Never judges if he panics until he’s sick and spends the next few minutes dry heaving into the toilet.
It doesn’t make it go away or anything, but having someone there to help has made it easier. It’s made it so Logan can invite Scott, and Jean, and Storm to his house.
The door opens again, this time without a knock so Logan knows instantly that it’s Wade and Al.
Logan perks up a bit. Negasonic was being real sweet keeping his mind off it, but when Logan gets like this it’s Wade he needs. Logan has to bite back his grin when Wade kicks Scott out of the spot he found on the couch to park Al there instead. Wade’s got some sort of competitive streak with Scott. Logan isn’t sure if it’s jealousy that he and Logan were together in his last universe, or jealousy over Scott being the head of the X-men while Wade’s been pretty consistently turned away from the superhero club.
Either way, Logan finds it endlessly entertaining.
Once Al’s set up and Puppins comes running into the room to settle on her lap, Wade breaks away and goes straight to the kitchen. His arm snakes its way around Logan’s back and Logan turns his head to kiss him. It’s natural now. Like they’ve been doing it forever.
“It is so weird to see you with a drink in your hand,” Wade says to Negasonic, still perched on the counter. “Should we change your name to Negasonic Young Adult Warhead?”
She flips him off and takes another sip of her beer.
“Who are we still waiting on?” Wade asks, grabbing his own beer from the fridge and looking around. “Did you just invite everyone you know?”
“It’s not about me, it’s about Dopinder,” Logan says. Wade sets his bottle down and wraps his arms around him from behind, presses a kiss to the side of his neck while Logan cuts one of the pizzas. “Don’t pretend you weren’t just as excited for the last Bachelorette episode.”
“I wouldn’t have thrown a whole party if it wasn’t what Dopinder wanted.”
Negasonic slips off the counter. “This is getting way too PDA for me,” she says. “I’m gonna go hang out with my girlfriend and not mack on her in front of everyone.”
“It’s fun, you should try it,” Wade calls after her. She doesn’t respond. Logan isn’t looking, but he bets she flipped him off again.
Logan spins around in Wade’s arms so his back’s to the kitchen counter. “You’ll survive a few minutes without kissing me, y’know.”
“Doubt it,” Wade says, surging forward and catching his lips again. Logan’s hands go right to his hips where they fit like they were made to be there. “Besides, it wasn’t about me. You were standing in here with that thousand yard stare, I thought I could be a sexy distraction for you before you had a panic attack at your own party.”
“Dopinder’s party,” Logan corrects.
“Dopinder’s party at your house with all your friends for the finale of your favorite show?”
Logan scowls. “Okay. Maybe it’s both of our party.”
Wade kisses him again. “I think it’s sexy you love The Bachelorette so much. Very malewife of you. Who do you think is gonna win?”
Logan breaks out of Wade’s arms so he can take the next pizza out of the oven. Wade takes Negasonic’s spot on the counter. Wade sits with him every time he cooks now, it already feels natural to move around him in the kitchen. “If the girl has any sense she’ll pick Eric, but she’s picked wrong the whole fucking show so she’ll probably go with Austin.”
“Fill me in,” Wade says.
“There’s like, ten episodes to fill you in on.”
“Good thing I like hearing you talk.”
Logan explains the entire season of The Bachelorette to Wade in the kitchen while their friends slowly fill up the living room. By the time Wade’s all caught up on the show, Logan doesn’t even remember that Scott Summers is just one room over.
Dopinder arrives next, and Logan finally breaks away from Wade.
“Hey, buddy,” Logan says, pulling him into a hug. “Happy Bachelorette day.”
“Happy Bachelorette day,” Dopinder says back. He looks giddy, he’s damn near bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“What’re you so excited for?”
“You know that girl I was talking to online?” Dopinder asks quickly, the whole question coming out in one breath.
“Yeah,” Logan says slowly. “Sarah, right?”
Dopinder nods. “She’s coming. She’s here. She’s helping Weas bring in the alcohol from the car.”
Logan’s excitement fizzles out as quickly as it came on. “Did you just say Weasel is here?”
Dopinder sighs. “You said I could invite anyone I wanted and I needed him to drive. I also still feel guilty that Mr. Pool peed in the back of his car.”
“You don’t need to feel guilty. You’re not the one that peed.”
“Forget the pee,” Dopinder shouts, throwing his hands up. “Sarah is here. A girl. I'm on a date.”
“You brought your date to your Bachelorette season finale watch party?” Wade asks, with his not there eyebrow raised.
Logan shoves him hard. “The perfect girl for Dopinder will love watching The Bachelorette. She seen it before?”
Dopinder shakes his head enthusiastically. “No, but I caught her up on the whole season. She seemed interested.”
Wade looks unconvinced, but Logan pulls Dopinder into a little one armed half hug. He's still not great with affection, but he's trying. He's working hard not to isolate himself in this universe like he did in the last one. Isolation leads to drinking, which leads to pushing everyone away, which leads to hurting Wade. Somewhere along the way his goals got all switched around. He doesn't mind getting comfortable as long as Wade's there with him. Making Wade happy takes up most of Logan's brain power these days.
“Go help her inside,” Logan says, and Dopinder runs off.
Wade helps Logan get all the pizzas set up on the table while Logan stands around unhelpfully, staring at the door. He's excited to meet Dopinder's girl. He's been invested in his dating life against his will for a long time now. He wants to see this through.
Dopinder comes back to the door with Weas and a pretty dark haired girl in tow, all carrying several bottles of liquor.
“Holy shit, you bring the whole bar?” Logan rushes to the door to take the bottles out of Sarah's hands.
“Thank you,” she says shyly.
Logan gets everything set down on the kitchen counter then goes to really introduce himself. “I'm Logan,” he says, holding out his hand.
She ignores the hand and hugs him. “I'm Sarah,” she says. “I've heard so much about you.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you too.” Logan half hugs her back. He's saved from the horrors of small talk when Wade shuffles over and starts interrogating her instead.
“What exactly are your intentions with my good friend Dopinder?” Wade asks. Logan should wrangle Wade in and help her, but Scott's wandered into the kitchen all by himself and looking at all the liquor with a frown.
Logan doesn't want to talk to him, but he won't get a better opportunity. He slinks into the kitchen and prays everyone else has the sense to stay back.
Wade thinks being friends would help Logan move on. Logan thinks seeing Scott alive just reminds him of Scott dead. But avoiding him didn't work, he still feels lightheaded everytime he thinks about it, so it's time to try Wade's approach.
“Don't know what to drink?” Logan asks, leaning against the kitchen entryway.
Scott jumps. “There's just a lot of it.”
“I work at a bar,” Logan says. “So does my buddy. And Weasel. We're used to having options around.”
“I see that,” Scott says.
There's an uncomfortable silence between them, neither of them looking at each other.
Logan takes a deep breath through his nose. “What do you like to drink?”
“Nothing too strong,” Scott says. “But nothing too sweet.”
“I'll make you a mule,” Logan says, looking through the bottles they brought over for the right vodka.
He mixes one up in a solo cup and passes it to Scott.
“Isn't it usually served in a little copper cup?”
“Drink the fucking mule,” Logan snaps.
And Scott does, leans up against the counter and takes a big swig. He's smiling all stupid when he's done. “You're just like him, you know. Even if you think you're not.”
“I'm not a thing like that guy.”
Scott shakes his head. “You didn't know him. You've got the same temper. You're funny the same way, without even trying.”
Logan pours himself another whiskey and drinks it like water. He feels like crying. He can't pinpoint why.
“The old Logan liked whiskey too,” Scott says. “And cigars. You'd never see him without one. His room always reeked.”
“Yeah, well. I'm on Camel Crushes.”
Scott laughs, light and airy. “He'd hate that.”
“It's not my doing. It's ‘cause of my guy.” It feels weird talking about Wade with Scott, but Scott doesn't look put out by it. He looks… happy, if Logan had to guess. He's not good at reading people, but he had started to learn the little tells on his Scott. This one can't be much different. He doesn't smell upset, at least.
“The other Logan would do anything for the person he loves, too.” He motions to Wade with his hand that's holding the mule. “You two are good together.”
Logan doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't. Just sips his drink again.
“You know, if you ever wanted to–”
“Nope,” Logan interrupts. “Not joining your team. I got a job.” He's been working at the bar full time again.
Him and Wade have reached a compromise with the merc stuff. He's mostly doing odd jobs for now. Walking dogs, and mowing lawns. Occasionally kicking someone's ass for money, but not killing them.
He isn't forbidden from killing. If it's looking like they're gonna be cutting it close on rent Wade will pick up a big job. When he does he showers the moment he's home, and he spends the night on the couch with Logan, watching Hell's Kitchen and making sure he doesn't slip away somewhere dark.
A compromise. They're getting good at that.
Logan clears his throat. “I should go put the show on.”
Scott nods. “It's good to see you, Logan.”
“You too, Slim.”
Scott's lips quirk up at the corner and Logan turns away. He heads back toward the living room and runs into Wade and Weas in the hall. Wade is trying to climb on top of Weasel while Weas uses all his strength to push Wade off.
“It's the rules of the mistletoe,” Wade whines. “You stupid bitch, you need to kiss me.”
“I'm not kissing you, your boyfriend wants me dead,” Weas huffs.
“We don't have a mistletoe,” Logan says. His presence makes Weas tense.
“Yukio brought one,” Wade says. And sure enough, there's one hanging from the ceiling, right above where Wade and Weas are wrestling.
“Just the cheek, Weasel, that's all I'm asking.”
“I'm not kissing your grody goddamn cheek!” Weas snaps when Wade accidentally jabs him in the eye trying to pull him in.
Wade jumps back, grinning. He knew exactly what he was doing. Logan shouldn't give in, not in front of everybody, but god, he's been looking for an excuse for months.
“The fuck you say about his cheek?” Logan asks, moving his whiskey into his left hand so he can curl his right one into a fist.
“I didn't mean it,” Weas whines, rubbing at his eye. “You like your men looking like melted plastic and he likes his men homicidal. I think that's beautiful. I'm very happy you found each other and–” he stops and sighs. “You're going to hit me no matter what I say, huh?”
Logan nods. “Damn right, kid.” He draws his fist back and punches Weas in the nose.
Logan doesn't want blood on his brand new carpet, so he only punches him with a fraction of the force he wants to, but it's enough that Weas’ head snaps back and he cups his nose.
“Don't say that shit about my guy,” Logan says.
Wade's all over him after that, hanging off his shoulder and kissing all over his face. “That's my wife!” he says happily. “Don't say shit to me if you can't take my wife.”
Logan doesn't push him off. Rules of the mistletoe and everything.
Logan tells everyone to come get their pizza. He stands around in the kitchen mixing drinks for everyone the best he can with the copious amounts of liquor and the juices he filled his fridge with. It was Dopinder's idea to set up a little bar for the watch party. Logan wasn't about to say no. Drinks take the edge off. He gets to keep his hands busy, being the best at mixing drinks.
He makes Bloody Marys for Dopinder and his new girl. Nothing crazy for Jean, a martini in a plastic cup. No olive, because Logan forgot them at the store. Scott says he's done drinking but Logan pours him another mule anyway.
He makes vodka redbulls for Negasonic and Yukio. A beer for Vanessa, who showed up at some point while Wade and Weas were fighting and was delighted to see Logan deck him.
Laura gets a diet coke and shoots Logan a nasty look when he refuses to give her a beer.
He makes a drink for everyone, laughs while he pours and feels better than he has in, fuck. Decades, really. He sends Wade all around the kitchen, grabbing juices and lime wedges and cups and stirring spoons.
He even makes a drink for Weas. An apology rum and coke. One that says sorry I punched you in the face but if you call my boyfriend ugly again you're dead.
When they've all got drinks and pizza they pile into the living room on top of each other.
His furniture started showing up for delivery a few days ago, but even with two brand new couches, a lazy boy, and all the chairs from the kitchen moved into the living room, they've got more friends than they do places to sit.
“We're out of seats, Logie, you can sit on my face,” Wade says loudly. In front of everybody.
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan says, but the smile makes it sound so much less threatening.
Wade's on the couch squashed between Vanessa and Colossus. Logan sits on the floor between Wade's legs. Dopinder and Sarah sit on the floor next to him. “Everyone in here?” Logan asks, looking around the room for a final head count.
He hits play on the remote.
“Who are you hoping gets the rose?” Logan asks Dopinder in a whisper.
“Austin,” Dopider says. “Obviously.”
Logan wrinkles his nose. “Nah. I'm hoping for Eric.”
They drink their drinks and eat their pizza. When Wade's done with his he passes his paper plate down to Logan and spends the rest of the episode running his fingers through Logan's hair.
Dopinder yells at the screen at all the right times. Wade's got funny little quips every couple minutes. Negasonic tells everyone to stop talking over the show when they get too rowdy. It's perfect, really.
At the end, The Bachelorette gives her rose to Eric and Logan needs to blink several times to keep from shedding a tear over the fucking Bachelorette.
Logan's worried Dopinder will be upset, but when he goes to bring a stack of paper plates to the kitchen trash can he sees Dopinder and Sarah wrapped tight around each other under the mistletoe and Logan's certain he'll be alright.
Logan and Wade bustle around hugging their guests goodbye.
Not Weasel. Weas gets a dirty look.
But everyone else gets a hug. Jean, who smells like flowers and Scott who smells like soap hug him together and Logan doesn't even feel panicky after. Maybe he's drunk. But maybe he's getting better. Either way, he's pretty proud of himself.
When all the guests have cleared Wade tucks Al into bed on the couch. She's spending the night, since the roads are still icy. They pull up Golden Girls on the tv for her and slink off to their bedroom.
Their bedroom. Logan still gets giddy when he thinks it.
He strips and tosses his dirty clothes to the hamper. Wade sits on the edge of the bed and watches shamelessly. “It's been a long time since Al got to listen to us have sex,” he says.
“Has it?” Logan mumbles, amused.
“She probably misses it.”
“Don't think she does, bub.”
“We get better at it every time. Don't you want to show her how much you've grown, peanut?”
“Shut up,” Logan grumbles. “Go take a shower and I'll think about it.”
Wade hops off the bed with a grin. “Let's go get your money's worth outta those two shower heads.”
He laces their fingers together and tugs Logan toward the door. “You know you wanna,” Wade taunts. And yeah, Logan does.
So he follows.