Chapter Text
Even ignoring all the far more painful regrets he had from his own universe, Logan felt like he was racking up his fair share in this universe too. At least the ones in this universe were (mostly) pretty trivial.
Moving in with Wade was categorically not a regret. In fact - not that he was ever going to let himself admit that to Wade’s face - this was probably the best thing that could have happened to him. He had come from a life where he had nothing and no one left - his only goal being to find a way to finally drink enough that his healing factor would give up on him - to this strange little life where he could slot into a new, bizarre family, and have an actual home. It was not something Logan would ever allow himself to take for granted. But of course, he was moving in with Wade fucking Wilson who, as much as he had grown on Logan throughout their bizarre adventure, was still a human tornado. Sometimes it was really hard to remind himself how glad he was that Wade had called after him.
They hadn’t really had an exact conversation about how long Logan was expecting to stay. Wade’s words on that first walk back to the apartment had been “Stay as long as you need - ‘til you get sick of me, honestly!”
“You think I’m not already there, Bub?” Logan had joked with a wry smile.
“Until you can’t stand the sight of me, then – well no, you’re already there too-” Wade had quipped, and Logan had felt a lead weight drop in his chest. That was one of the less fun regrets - what he had said to Wade in the void.
Thinking about the comments on his appearance made Logan wince. He felt like he had proven to Wade already how wrong he had been about his attacks on Wade’s personality (well, not the comments on his obvious ADHD, but that had been an observation rather than an insult), about how much he mattered etc, when he had broken down that door to die with him. But the jabs at his face were another thing entirely to take back, especially now with the real-world context where he could see that, beneath all the humour, it really did bother Wade.
In all honesty, the way Wade looked didn’t bother Logan in the slightest. He was more than used to ‘unconventional’ appearances - he had met mutants of all shapes, sizes and manners of being. But when they had met, Logan had been nothing but a storm of shame and anger and regret, and he had let that pour out of him in the worst way in Wade’s direction. Well, in Deadpool’s direction. Deadpool and Wade were the same person, of course, but it was much easier to pretend to hate the over the top, cocky asshole persona of a superhero than the actually genuinely good (if utterly insane) man beneath the suit.
“You’re a lot easier on the eye than you give yourself credit for,” Logan had tried awkwardly, feeling his face heat up as soon as he had said it and resolutely avoided looking at Wade.
“Was that a compliment? From the world's sexiest man 2008? My GOD, say it again, I’m gonna c-”
“Alright, calm down Bub.”
Much further down the line, Logan would look back on their first few weeks together and ponder what he might actually count as ‘regrets’. Maybe first regret had been letting Wade overhear him singing in the shower. Well, ‘letting him’ was definitely an exaggeration that favored Wade a bit too much, and maybe the singing was really regret number two or three, since it happened a nearly a week in. No, the far more accurate ‘first’ regret would probably be him not immediately going to get a bolt to install on the bathroom door when he realized they didn’t have one.
“Don’t really need one, Peanut,” Wade had said cheerfully during his “grand tour” of the one bed apartment - which was definitely an old crack den. He smirked at Logan as he raised his eyebrows, “I mean, Blind Al can’t see, obviously - her hearing and sense of smell does her fine though.” He had of course then gone on to make a disgusting joke about the diabolical shits he could take, which Logan was doing his best to wipe from his memory, followed by a further joke about not being too worried about the tragedy of walking in on him washing ‘those beautiful glistening hawaiian roll abs of his’.
All of this to say, Logan wasn’t sure if the bit about walking in on him showering had been a joke or a warning. It wasn’t that he was actually trying to peak at him behind the Hello-Kitty shower curtain - Wade was many things, but Logan hoped at least that he wasn’t a full on creep, especially since he said the phrase ‘consent is sexy’ far more often than necessary - more just careless, maybe? Slight lack of personal boundaries? 'Slight' was maybe a little to lenient.
The first time had been him casually walking in with a pile of fresh clothes for him - which Logan admitted had been a nice gesture after the fact, even if it had made him jump out of his skin and nearly shred the thin veil of fabric concealing his very naked body from Wade’s eyes when his claws instinctively popped out. He had apologized after, given he had also called Wade some very colourful insults on instinct. In his defence, he had been startled, okay?
“Don’t worry about it, kitten-whiskers,” Wade had beamed, leaning against the kitchen counter casually while Logan hovered awkwardly in the hallway, hair still damp from the shower. Of course Wade was annoyingly delighted at his sheepish apology, eyes practically sparkling with glee while Logan had felt his face go redder and redder.
Al was sat on the couch, Golden Girls on in the background, petting that gross (and maybe sort of cute) little dog Wade was obsessed with. She muttered something under her breath to the mutt, who grumbled in response. He should in theory have been able to hear her perfectly fine, but finding a way to apologize to Wade was taking all his brain power.
Logan had found he liked Althea instantly, but felt pretty guilty about intruding on her and Wade’s space - and nearly skewering Wade and getting blood all over her walls less than two hours after moving in. The last thing he wanted to be was a burden.
He was standing there in Wade’s slightly-too-tight sweatpants and worn old flannel shirt, which smelt like it may have been in the back of a closet for about three years, feeling incredibly out of place. “I shouldn’t have yelled,” he forced out, looking at the floor and counting the amount of suspicious stains. This place might have actually been an active crack house, in fact. “I’m just… I’m not good with being snuck up on.”
“Again, sweetcheeks, it’s fine, I get it! Anyway, you know I love it when you growl at me. Really gets me going.”
“Just… Just knock, next time, maybe?” Logan had grunted, trying his best not to rise to the teasing.
“You got it, kitten - scouts honor! Now, I’m gonna get myself cleaned up, you’re going to have a proper introduction with Stevie here, and then we are getting pizza, and you are not allowed to bully me for my choice of topping - as penance for nearly turning me into a Kebab purely for the crime of being a sweet roomie and giving you something to wear, rather than being selfish like I wanted to be and letting you live in your birthday-suit. Speaking of which, tomorrow we’ll go see if we can find some stuff that more matches your vibe because this,” he gestured to Logan’s current outfit, “Well, lets just say, as much as I LOVE seeing you in my clothes, I’m going to run out of clean underwear way too quickly if I have to see you bend down in those sweatpants. You do wear stuff other than the yellow suit, right? I mean, I’m personally a Lumberjack-Logan fan, but I could do some leather-daddy Logan too. OOO, and we need to find you some white tank tops to show off that slutty little waist of yours.”
Logan just stared at him, getting progressively more confused, face growing hotter with every word.
“Motherfucker, you’re making me homophobic. Shut the fuck up and shower before I put you both out on the street,” Al snapped.
-
Logan had been very glad to hear that they did indeed own a pull-out couch. There would be no way in hell he would be down to bunk with Wade AND Al in the one bedroom - not only because there was no way that bed would fit three people, but additionally because over the course of the evening he had determined that yes, he did very much like Al, and he definitely did not want to impale her with his claws should he have a nightmare. He also hadn’t liked the idea of sleeping on the floor, having stared intently at it earlier during his awkward apology; Wade sure as shit hadn't swept or mopped in probably years, and he felt like the odds of him catching something were worryingly high - even with his healing factor.
What he hadn’t quite considered, though it was glaringly obvious in hindsight, was the fact that Wade was going to be bunking with him. Al had declared it definitively, when she excused herself to bed. “Remember, I'm blind, not deaf. I will put you motherfuckers on the street if I hear you going at it - understood?”
The movie was still rolling when Al excused herself. They were watching Star Wars: A New Hope, and Logan had been starting to question his sanity at a few points before remembering he had quite literally switched universes. Al excusing herself had pulled him from his thoughts, realizing his face was set in a deep frown of confusion - like why on Earth there seemed to be some weird tension between Luke and Leia, and why it was Luke rescuing her from the cell and not the other way - and fully coming aware of the position they were sitting in. The three of them had crowded onto the couch, since this was the best angle to watch the small screen, Al on one end and Logan on the other, Wade squished between them with his arms draped around the back of the couch, over both their shoulders. Logan became acutely aware of just how much surface area of their bodies were pressed together.
Three pizza boxes and empty beer cans littered the coffee table in front them. Wade had ordered probably the most heinous pizza imaginable, but Logan had kept to his earlier promise and managed to avoid comment.
He felt strangely content. He was exhausted, and his muscles ached, and his bones felt brittle, and it was maybe 9PM at best but he felt like he could fall into a coma at any moment. But he was also warm, and safe, his belly pleasantly full in the first time in he wasn’t sure how long. He hadn’t told Wade about his plans to try and cut down the alcohol, and Wade hadn’t made any comment on it either, but he felt vaguely proud of himself that he had stuck to three beers, rather than two bottles of whiskey. Baby steps.
When Al moved, Wade didn’t. He didn’t shift to take up her empty spot and put a gap between them, just stayed pressed against him. Logan shifted, let himself settle further back, and for a second he thought he could sense Wade tense as he let his head rest against the younger man’s shoulder. Then he felt Wade’s arm move just ever so slightly tighter around him as Al’s bedroom door clicked closed.
This was maybe the longest Wade had gone without talking. When five minutes had gone by, he tilted his head to look up at him. Wade’s eyes were half lidded, his face relaxed, drifting off to sleep, but at the movement he jolted awake, and looked down at Logan with a grin.
There was something hungry stirring inside Logan. It was a feeling he knew all too well, which was creeping up on him in intensity the longer he spent getting to know this ridiculous man. He knew he had to ignore it. And yet, he felt his eyes focus on Wade’s chapped lips, lingering a second too long.
“Hi Peanut,” Wade said sleepily. He titled his face closer to Logan’s. They were inches apart.
God, Logan wanted to kiss him.
And at that thought, he pushed himself away, standing abruptly. “We should get this pull out set up before we both fall asleep,” he said gruffly, trying to ignore the flash of something close to a crestfallen look on Wade’s face. He extended a hand, pulling Wade to his feet easily. “I don’t know about you, but even with my healing factor my back would hate me tomorrow if we fall asleep sitting up.”
“Alright, old man,” Wade sighed. He was still holding Logan’s hand. Logan dropped in quickly, turning to gather up the trash on the coffee table ready to push it aside. “I suppose you are right, there are far more fun ways to blow your back out.”
They made pretty quick work of moving the furniture - even in his exhaustion, it felt like it weighed barely anything to Logan, which was a slight concern considering that this sofa-bed needed to hold the weight of his adamantium skeleton. He did his best not to think about the stains on the mattress as they unfurled it, helping Wade cover it with a fresh red sheet and matching red Bedding.
“Used to use this mostly when I came back from jobs,” Wade explained between the rest of his mindless chatter, “Red is better for blood stains, especially when you have a shared laundry room.”
“Figures,” Logan grunted. He tried not to think about the possibility of him making the red sheets a necessity. He hadn’t slept next to someone in such a long time. Well, apart from Wade, in the back of the Honda. But that had been different. In the Honda, he had been actively trying to hurt him - waking up with his claws in him after a nightmare wouldn’t have exactly been an issue. Now, though…
They took turns in the bathroom. Wade, of course, didn’t own a spare toothbrush, so Logan was going to go without until they could go to the store the next day, but Wade reasoned that Logan had quite literally bit a chunk out of him in the back of the Honda, so the time for worrying about sharing germs had long gone.
“Not that I don’t love your manly meat-feast breath, Peanut,” Wade teased, leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing the most ridiculous pyjamas Logan had ever seen - a cropped ‘Hello kitty’ t-shirt, with matching tiny shorts that Logan was adamantly not looking at. “You know I love a man who’s had meat in his mouth, but you would probably be more comfortable if you just used it.”
Logan wasn’t the best at self-preservation (when you have a healing factor, you generally don’t have to be) but he knew that looking at Wade’s very exposed thighs right now was not going to end well for him - especially as they were about to spend the whole night in very close proximity.
“That was terrible, even for you,” Logan replied through a mouthful of toothpaste. He watched Wade in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Part of him was telling him he should order Wade to get the fuck out and leave him in peace. He spat out the toothpaste, pausing for a few moments. “You sure you wanna share with me, Bub?”
“What sort of question is that, Mr 2008’s sexiest man alive?”
Logan didn’t quite get the joke, even though Wade had made the same one before so there was obviously some sort of reference he was missing, but he knew Wade was flirting. He felt a little twinge of annoyance at that. Wade had saved the fucking universe for Vanessa, not him. Logan knew he was like this with fucking everyone, but it still felt a little unfair. Was Wade entirely oblivious or something? He pushed it down, and pressed on, “Look, I just… I need to give you some fair warning, alright?”
“Is your dick really that big that you need me to sign a waiver first? Just show me the dotted line and I’m yours - even if I could die, death by Wolverine dicking is exactly how I want to go.”
“Could you be fucking serious for like, two seconds? I’m not joking around here, asshole,” Logan growled, glaring at Wade’s reflection. Wade held his hands up in defeat, before crossing his arms again, waiting for Logan to continue. “I just… I get nightmares, sometimes. And they can feel pretty fucking real. And when that happens, like when you snuck up on me earlier… I can’t always control when the claws come out.”
“Well, lucky for you, big boy, you’ve had those things ten inches in my guts already, and look at me now,” Wade struck a pose in the mirror, one hand on his hip, the other up by his head, the cropped t-shirt riding up further to show a wider expanse of his scarred torso, “Just as gorgeous as ever.”
The sarcasm in Wade’s voice made Logan ready to snap. He gripped the toothbrush in his hand tightly, scrubbing at his teeth a touch too hard in an effort to stop himself laying into Wade for being so stupidly self-deprecating. As much as Wade really needed to quit it with those sorts of jokes, Logan wasn’t about to let himself put his foot in it and reveal how Wade’s casual flirting was actually affecting him. He collected himself enough to respond, spitting again and rinsing the toothbrush beneath the tap.
“Just because you can take it, doesn’t mean I want to put you in that situation. I got the anger out in the Odyssey, Bub. I’d rather not hurt you. Especially not unintentionally. Funnily enough, waking up to hurting someone I care about is arguably far more traumatic than the nightmares, even if they do end up okay.” He was looking down when he spoke, so he missed the expression on Wade’s face, but looked back up to the mirror when he realized there had been a rather uncharacteristic pause.
Wade’s brown eyes were so soft it was physically painful to look at. Logan dropped the toothbrush in the holder, shaped like - of course - that stupid little cat, and busied himself with washing his face, waiting for Wade to respond.
“That is probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, sugar-tits.”
“Don’t call me that,” Logan grunted.
“But you really don’t need to worry about me. I literally can’t die.”
“Just- If you think I’m having a nightmare, get out of harm’s way, okay? I don’t wanna put you through that - especially not without warning.”
“Well, thanks for the warning, but I am a big boy, I’m willing to take the risk. Besides, I would rather take a thousand poundings from you and your claws than deal with Al’s snoring another night. If you’re really that worried, when we look for a new place we can see if we can find a two bed, but I’m not worried, sweetcheeks. I actually quite enjoyed our tussle in the Odyssey, so round two wouldn’t be an issue for me.”
“I know you did,” Logan joked lowly. Well, it wasn’t really a joke. It was pretty obvious - he just hoped to god it hadn’t been as obvious to Wade about his own situation. Then his tired brain finally rebooted, catching on to some of the words in the previous sentence. “When we find a new place? You already made plans for us to move together, Bub? It’s been less than 24 hours.”
“You got someone else you’d rather live with? I’m your only friend in this universe, I get first fucking dips on you.”
“I could live alone,” Logan replied, but he was grinning despite himself. He didn’t want to live alone, not really.
“No chance, old man. You’re like, 200. You need a live-in carer. What would happen if you fell and couldn’t get back up?! You need me. Besides, I think Al wants one of her cocaine buddies to move in, so it’s probably time I make myself scarce. I was thinking we could start looking next week - give you time to adapt a bit first.”
Logan turned to him, leaning back against the sink. “And what about you and Vanessa?”
“Well, considering we broke up between Deadpool 2 and 3, and its been about six-ish years since then, and she has a new, nice man who she lives with and hasn’t got her shot yet… I feel like that door may be a teeny bit closed, don’t you?”
Logan shrugged. He regretted bringing her up. What was he fucking expecting Wade to say? Oh no, Logan, I only want you! As if that was going to happen. He brushed past Wade in the doorway, clicking off the bathroom light and heading towards the bed, Wade tailing behind him.
“You should still talk to her,” Logan heard himself saying. “You did save the universe for her, after all.”
“Among others, true. She was one of the nine people. Ten, now. Eleven, actually - can’t forget Laura.”
Logan didn’t know what to say to that. His chest felt way too tight. He paused by the side of the bed, looking down at the red sheets. He started pulling off his borrowed shirt; it was a little too fitted to be comfortable sleeping in, especially if he did end up with a nightmare. He glanced at Wade, who was very openly ogling his chest.
“What side do you want?” he asked, partly out of politeness, partly to change the subject away from the previous conversation.
“How about we both take the middle, and I can use those juicy tits as a pillow?” Logan threw the shirt at Wade’s face, hard. “Or not! Just a suggestion, Peanut.”
“I can take the side by the door, unless you’re apposed,” Logan suggested.
“I know this place looks like a crack house, but the danger of a break in is pretty fucking minimal - though I do think its incredibly sexy when you get all protective.”
“Do you want the side closest or furthest from the fucking door, Wade? I haven’t slept properly in god fucking knows how long and I am not beyond beheading you to get 10 minutes of silence right now.”
“Alright, Honey badger, don’t get your panties in a twist. You by the door is fine by me!”
Wade swung round the side of the couch, plopping himself onto the bed with squeak of springs before clambering in, already off on some new tangent that Logan began to tune out. Logan took care of the lights before gingerly making his way over, lowering himself with far more care onto the mattress. There was a low creaking of warning, but once he laid flat and distributed his weight, the pull-out thankfully held.
He tried his best to keep a little space between himself and Wade as they settled down side-by-side, but that turned out to be an impossible task; this was barely a queen sized mattress, and neither of them were exactly slender. He tried not to think too hard about the expanse of Wade's exposed, surprisingly soft and warm textured skin he could feel against his arm. He tried not to notice how he could tell the cropped shirt had risen up, leaving his entire abdomen bare. He tried not to picture Wade’s thighs in those stupid tiny shorts, close enough that he could reach out and just grab a handful if he wanted to. He really wanted to. The hungry animal side of him really just wanted to test how much of Wade’s flirting was a joke.
There was a twinge of fear at the thought as well, though. Would Wade let him? Or would he push him away, demand him out of the flat and out onto the street? Or just awkwardly reject him, maybe apologize for leading him on with the jokes and then go sleep in Al’s room, give Logan a chance to be gone before he woke up.
Or would he welcome it - reciprocate, even. Logan’s head was suddenly filled with images of Wade wrapped around him, his hands everywhere on his scarred skin, slipping up under those damn shorts, his open mouth on Wade’s neck-
Wade moved, stretching his body out as long as it would go, arms up above his head, making a noise far too close to a moan as his joints popped. Still, Logan was snapped out of his trance to realize in abject horror that he was completely bricked up. Fuck.
“That’s the stuff,” Wade mumbled, shrinking back down. “Nothing like the feeling of fresh sheets and a sexy man in bed with you after saving the universe, am I right, Peanut?”
Logan turned on his side, away from Wade, grumbling in his best impression of pissed off, “Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, Bub.”
“OOO you wanna be the little spoon? I can do that-”
“Touch me and I will fucking skewer you, I mean it. Just let me sleep.”
“Sheesh, someone needs their beauty sleep. Alight, shnookums, nighty night. Try not to get the sheets too wet from your dreams of me, I only have the one set for this couch and I hate doing laundry.”
Logan was starting to worry that Wade had some telepathic mutation that he had elected to not mention. If that were true, he was even more fucked.