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Logan had been watching Wade get restless for the better part of twenty minutes. The way his fingers drummed against his thigh. How his eyes kept darting toward Logan and then away. The squirming that suggested he wanted something but wasn't sure how to ask for it.
Wade Wilson, master of a thousand words per minute, struck speechless by his own desires.
It was adorable, really.
"Somethin' on your mind, bub?" Logan asked without looking up from his book (though he wasn't actually reading it, and hadn't been for the last ten minutes).
"Mind? My mind? No, nothing on my mind. Empty brain space. Vast wasteland of unoccupied neural real estate. You could echo in here if you shouted loud enough." Logan didn't miss how his voice was pitched a little bit higher than normal. "Just, you know, existing. Being a human person doing human person things. Like breathing, and blinking, and definitely not thinking about anything specific or having any particular needs or desires that might be considered unusual by societal standards."
Logan put his book down and looked up at him, then. Wade had gone very still under his scrutiny, like a rabbit that realized it was being hunted. "Wilson."
"Yes, Logan? That's me. Wade. Wade Wilson. Responding to my government name like a functional adult human being."
"You're babblin'."
"I'm conversing! It's called conversation , Logan, and some people enjoy it. It's a social activity where individuals exchange thoughts and ideas through the medium of spoken language. Cutting edge shit, really."
"Y'know what I think?" Wade made a soft sound in the back of his throat. "Think you want somethin' but don't know how to ask for it."
"I never have trouble asking for things. I'm very direct. Extremely forthright. Some might say aggressively communicative about my needs and desires. Remember last week when I spent forty-five minutes explaining exactly how I wanted you to–"
A heavy hand met the back of his neck, and the words died in his throat. "That was different," Logan murmured. "That was about what you wanted me to do to you. This is about what you wanna be."
Wade breathing stuttered. Logan could feel it. "Dunno what you're talking about."
"No?" Logan's grip tightened. It wasn't painful (never painful, not unless Wade asked for it to be), but it was firm enough to send sparks of electricity down Wade's spine as he leaned to whisper in his ear. "Think you wanna be my good boy again, don't you, pup?"
Logan, if asked, would have sworn to god that Wade melted at that. His shoulders dropped, his eyes went soft, a little glazed over and hazy, and a small whimper escaped him.
"I… Maybe. Possibly. There's a non-zero chance that could be accurate."
Logan chuckled, low and warm. "Such a polite way of sayin' yes."
"I wasn't saying yes! I was saying maybe! There's a significant difference between maybe and yes. Maybe implies uncertainty, whereas yes is a definitive affirmative response to–"
"Bub."
"Yes?"
"You're still babblin'."
"Right. Shutting up now. Engaging silent mode. Zip. Lock. Throw away the key into the metaphorical ocean of quietness where–"
Logan silenced him with a kiss. When they eventually pulled apart, Wade was breathing hard and looking at him with those wide, pretty eyes.
"Better?"
"Yeah," Wade whispered. "Sorry. You know I get nervous when I want things. Especially when I want things that might make me look needy or pathetic or–"
"Not pathetic. And you're sure as hell not needy just for wantin' to let go sometimes. For wantin' to be taken care of."
Wade smiled, but it was tiny. "Even when what I want is to be your..?"
"My pup?" Logan finished. "Yeah. 'Specially then."
The flush that crept up Wade's neck was beautiful. "Okay. Yes. That's…that's what I want. If you're amenable to the concept. Which you don't have to be! This isn't a demand or an ultimatum or anything. Just a humble request from your occasionally-neurotic boyfriend who sometimes wants to wear a collar and call you 'sir' and–"
"Jesus, bub. Gonna give yourself a stroke if you keep overthinking this."
"Sorry. It's just…it's vulnerable, you know? Wanting to be someone's…pet. Even temporarily. Even in the fun, sexy way. Certain amount of trust, and–"
Logan cupped his face to force him to meet his eyes. "You trust me?"
"I mean, obviously, but it's been a while since we played like that, and–"
"You want instructions. That it?"
"Yeah. Yes. Please."
Logan got up and went to their dresser, where he pulled out a few things: soft rope, a leather collar that they'd bought but never used, and…something else.
"Are those–"
"Puppy ears," Logan confirmed, holding up a headband. "Thought you might like 'em."
Wade stared at it. "When…when'd you get those, big guy?"
"Been thinkin' about doin' this again for a while. Put 'em on."
He did. They were surprisingly actually comfortable, the band didn't squeeze his head like some headbands did, and the weight of the pink ears was a constant reminder of what he was becoming.
Christ, he went all out. These aren't some Spirit Halloween or Party City ears. These are…well, they feel expensive.
"How do I look?" Wade asked instead of voicing that thought, then immediately felt stupid for asking.
Logan's answer was to cup his face in both hands. "Perfect."
Heat flooded Wade's cheeks. "Lo…"
"Hush. Next is this." Logan held up the collar. It was simple pink leather (the same pink as the ears, Wade noted) with a silver D-ring. Nothing elaborate, no, but the sight of it made Wade's mouth go dry. "Turn around."
Wade did, and presented his neck. He felt Logan's fingers brush against his skin as he fastened the collar. "How's that feelin'?"
Wade reached up to touch it. "Good. Really good."
"Good. Now, rules." He turned. "Pups don't talk unless they're asked a direct question. They make puppy sounds instead. Can y'do that for me?"
Wade opened his mouth to reply that yes, he absolutely could , but he caught himself. Instead, he made a small whimpering sound, tilting his head in a way that he hoped looked appropriately dog-like.
Logan actually smiled. "That's it. Perfect. Second rule: pups don't walk on two legs. They crawl or kneel. Can ya manage that?"
Another whimper, followed by Wade dropping to his hands and knees.
"Look atcha," Logan breathed. "Fuckin' beautiful."
Wade huffed a bit at that, but Logan didn't miss the way his back arched, or how he pushed his ass out.
"Third rule," Logan continued, "pups obey their owners. No questions, no arguments, no smartass comments. You do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. Y'understand?"
Wade nodded eagerly, and even let his tongue loll out slightly, just to prove his point that yes , he could be good.
"Aww, look at that. You're bein' a good pup for me today, aren'tcha, bub?"
The praise went straight to Wade's cock, which was straining against the confines of his purple underwear. He shifted slightly, trying to find some relief, but the movement only made his arousal more obvious.
Logan noticed, of course. Logan noticed everything. "Gettin' worked up already?" He crouched down beside the bed to bring himself closer to Wade's level. "Poor puppy. All that praise got you excited?"
Wade whined; it was a high, needy sound that surprised even him with its authenticity.
"Don't worry. Good pups who follow the rules get rewards. But first, you gotta prove you can be good." Logan stood again, and Wade had to resist the urge to follow him. Instead, he stayed in position, waiting for instructions. "Prove it," Logan said.
Wade whined questioningly, tilting his head.
"How, you askin'? Well, you wanna be a good boy, you act like a pup. And what do good pups do for their owners?"
Wade's mind raced through possibilities.
Tricks?
Obedience?
…Fetching?
"Fetch me a beer from the kitchen. Bring it back here. In your mouth."
Wade's eyes widened. The kitchen was on the other side of their apartment, which meant crawling across the hardwood floors while carrying a beer bottle in his mouth. It was humiliating, and it was degrading, and…
Fuck it.
He set off through their bedroom door and down the hallway. The hardwood was cool against his palms and knees, and he found himself crawling more naturally than he expected.
Surprisingly comfortable.
The kitchen seemed much larger from this perspective. Everything looked different when you were three feet closer to the ground. He had to use his hands to pull open the refrigerator door, because like hell was he biting stainless steel, healing factor or no.
The cool air washing over his mostly-naked body made his nipples harden.
The beer was trickier than he'd anticipated. He had to balance on his knees to reach into the fridge (the easy part), grab a bottle, and then figure out how to carry it in his mouth without dropping it (or falling over and giving himself a beer bottle lobotomy). The glass was cold against his lips.
The journey back felt twice as long. Wade was trying very hard not to think about his position – ass in the air, collar around his neck, puppy ears on his head, crawling through their apartment with a beer bottle in his mouth like some sort of kinky retriever – and how it felt.
It should have felt ridiculous.
It did not.
By the time he made it back to Logan, his knees were red from the hardwood and his cock was leaking steadily into his underwear. He stopped at Logan's feet and looked up expectantly.
My tail would be wagging if I had one, he thought to himself.
"Good pup," Logan said, taking the beer from his mouth. "Very nice. Lookit how good you did that." He popped the cap and took a long swig, but kept up his eye contact with Wade the entire time. "Mmm. Thirsty work, watchin' you learn your place."
Wade whimpered, as he was suddenly very aware that he was kneeling at Logan's feet while Logan was still fully clothed and in control.
The power dynamic alone was intoxicating.
"Now," Logan said, settling into his favorite reading chair, "c'mere and sit on my lap." Wade scrambled forward eagerly, but Logan held up a hand. "Ah-ah. Pups don't rush."
Wade slowed down, crawling more deliberately toward Logan's chair. When he reached it, he looked up questioningly.
"Up," Logan patted his lap. "Right here."
He climbed onto said lap and straddled his right thigh. That put him slightly off-balance, so he was dependent on Logan's hands on his waist to keep him steady.
It also pressed his hard cock against Logan's leg.
"Attaboy," Logan murmured, chucking him under the chin, then stroking his back. "Look how perfect you fit right here."
Wade scooted a little closer, nuzzling into Logan's neck and breathing in his scent. Here, better than in any other position, he could feel the warmth of his body and even the steady beat of his heart. It was grounding. Beautifully grounding.
"Y'like this," Logan observed. "Don'tcha? Havin' someone else make the decisions for a while?" Wade nodded against his shoulder. "Good. 'Cause I like it too, y'know, seein' you all relaxed and peaceful instead'a wound up." He moved his hand to the back of Wade's neck, where he played with the edge of the collar. "Like havin' you right where I can take care'a you."
That sent another wave of heat through Wade's system, so he squirmed a bit, seeking friction, and was rewarded with a low rumble.
"Easy, now. We're gonna take our time with this."
He set his beer aside and used both hands to guide Wade's movements, encouraging him to rock gently against his thigh – not enough to get off, but enough to keep him hard and incredibly interested.
"Lookatcha," Logan continued. "So needy for me, huh? Want more?" Wade nodded frantically. "Then you're gonna have to work for it. Pups earn their rewards." His hands went to the waistband of Wade's underwear. "These gotta come off. Can't have my bub wearin' clothes when he's bein' so good for me."
Wade stood up a little, just enough to let Logan slide the boxer-briefs down and off his legs. Being completely naked while he was still fully dressed added another layer to the aforementioned power dynamic – one that made his head spin.
"Better," Logan said as his hands flew back to his waist. "Now I can see just how much you it."
Wade, if he'd been allowed to speak, would have been beyond words anyway. His entire world was narrowed down to Logan's voice, Logan's hands, Logan's thigh pressed between his legs. Everything else was just background noise.
"Know what I think?" Logan asked. "Think my pup needs to show me how good he can be. Prove he deserves his reward."
Logan reached down and untied the knot at the front of his sweatpants, and then he did something that made Wade's brain short-circuit entirely: he pushed them down.
Christ, the man was commando.
"There," Logan murmured. "Much better. Now you can really show me how good you are."
The feeling of bare skin against his cock was electric. Logan's thigh was warm and solid, with just enough hair to create the perfect amount of friction. It was better than anything Wade had imagined.
"Attaboy," Logan encouraged, patting his left hip. "Just like that, pup. Show me how much you want it."
Wade began rocking against his thigh almost automatically, even before Logan had drizzled a bit of lube. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through his system, but it was the psychological aspect that really undid him.
"Good boy. Look how perfect y'are, ridin' my thigh, huh?"
Wade's breathing got heavier and hotter as his pleasure built. He knew Logan was watching him, studying him, memorizing every expression and every sound he made. It was intimate, a different kind of intimate, a level of intimate that their usual frantic fucking just…wasn't. This was slower, more calculated, and more patient, like it was about Wade's headspace rather than just getting off.
Well, he supposed that was true.
"You close, pup?" Logan asked. "Feel you gettin' desperate, all hard against my leg." Wade whined in frustration, trying to move faster, but Logan's grip on his hips kept him to the slower pace. "Nuh-uh. Good pups wait for permission. You don't come 'til I say you can come."
"Please," he whispered.
Logan's hand moved to his throat. He didn't squeeze, but he just rested it there as a reminder. "What was that, huh? Good boys don't talk unless they're asked a direct question."
Wade whimpered, nuzzling into Logan's neck as a form of apology.
"Now that's better. I know you're gettin' desperate, but you gotta be patient." Logan allowed him to resume his grinding, but he kept the pace frustratingly slow. Coming was just out of reach, so tantalizingly close, but denied.
"Y'know what I like best about this?" Logan asked conversationally, as if he wasn't driving Wade out of his mind with need. "Seein' you like this. All that energy, all that chatter, all that need to be performin' all the time? It's just…gone. You're just here, with me, bein' exactly what you need to be."
Wade made a soft sound of agreement; normally he'd argue, but he was too far gone to. Logan was right, anyway. The constant buzz in his brain had quieted to a whisper, leaving behind something simpler and more honest.
"That's what you needed, huh? To stop bein' Wade Wilson, merc with a mouth, and just be my good boy. I think," he continued, "that you been real good today. Fetched my beer without complaint, followed all the rules, made such pretty sounds for me."
Wade's heart raced.
"And good pups," Logan murmured, "get rewarded for obedience."
Wade huffed, whined, then cried out as Logan's hands left his sides. Instead, he wrapped his arms loosely around his waist, which finally allowed Wade to get all the friction and speed he needed. It hit him like a lightning strike, and pleasure raced through his system as he rutted desperately against Logan's thigh.
For a moment, he existed as nothing but sensation and release.
Before he knew it, he was slumped against Logan's chest, breathing hard and trembling. Logan's hands were stroking his back gently, grounding him.
"There's my good boy," Logan murmured against his ear. "Did so well for me. Such a perfect, beautiful boy."
Wade made a soft, contented sound. He felt loose and relaxed in a way he couldn't remember feeling in months, or maybe years. All the tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders, all the restlessness that usually kept him moving at max speed, it had just…melted away.
"How you feelin'?" Logan asked softly.
How was he feeling? Sated, definitely. Relaxed. Content. But more than that, he felt centered.
"Good," he finally hoarsely said. "Really, really good."
Logan smiled, and planted a kiss to the top of his head, just above the puppy ears. "Good. That's what I wanted."
They sat like that for a while, but eventually, Logan reached up to unfasten the collar. "Time to come back up," he said gently.
Wade immediately felt the shift. It wasn't unpleasant, per se, but noticeable nonetheless. Like surfacing from deep water, moving from one state of being to another. He reached up to remove the ears.
Suddenly, he was feeling very self-conscious about the whole thing.
"Hey," Logan murmured. "None'a that self-deprecatin' shit. You were fuckin' incredible. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Really?"
"Really. You trusted me with somethin' precious, and you were perfect."
Wade looked down at Logan's thigh. "Sorry about the mess."
Logan chuckled. "Worth it. Besides, pretty sure I seen worse."
"True. Remember that time with the chocolate sauce and the–"
"There's my Wade," Logan said fondly. "Feelin' more like yourself?"
"Yeah," he replied, surprised by how true it was. "I feel…better. Like I've been reset or something."
"Good. That was the point."
Wade studied his face. "You enjoyed that too."
"'Course I did. S'just takin' care of you, seein' you happy and relaxed."
"We should probably do this again sometime."
"Count on it, pup."
Three weeks later, Wade was having another "day." This time it started when their neighbor's dog barked its furry little ass off at 5 in the morning, continued when the coffee shop ran out of his favorite donuts, and reached peak annoyance when he got stuck in traffic for an entire fucking hour because of construction that definitely hadn't fucking been there the day before.
By the time he made it home, he was practically vibrating.
Logan took one look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Rough day?"
"The roughest. The world has personally conspired against me today. I'm pretty sure the universe has my picture taped to its bathroom mirror with a sign that says 'make this guy's life difficult.'"
Logan nodded, as if that was a completely reasonable thing to say (and Wade knew damn well it wasn't). "Sounds like someone needs to let off some steam."
"…Maybe."
Logan smiled. "Go get your ears, pup. Think it's time for some trainin'," he started to say, but Wade was already headed to the bedroom. "Good boy."