Chapter Text
“Morning, sunshine.”
“Motherfucker.” Logan screwed his eyes shut. “Can you please put on some clothes?”
“That’s not what you were screaming out last night, babygirl,” Wade said cheerfully. He tossed another set of steaming pancakes onto their struggling coffee table and dragged Logan over. The naked dick swung a little too close to his cheek for comfort as he reluctantly sat down.
“What the fuck is all this?”
“A healthy breakfast for your first day of Avengering,” He said, sliding his fingers down Logan’s neck and shoulders to squeeze his chest, “oh, the girls are excited. Rock hard nipples. It’s gonna rain today, I can tell.”
“Get your hands off of me. It’s the fourth week already, dipshit.”
“Has it really been that long? Time flies when you’re having sex. Please try them,” Wade encouraged, stabbing a fork through three floppy pancakes and lifting them up to Logan’s frowning face. His stomach jumped uncomfortably at the strong scent of animal fat and grease.
“I’m not hungry,” He said, making to stand.
“Not so fast,” Wade swung a scarred thigh over his hip and sat his bare balls down in Logan’s lap. The IKEA chair squeaked dangerously beneath their combined weight. “Kiss for good luck?”
“Don’t need luck.”
“Well, how about a kiss for–”
He shut Wade up with his tongue. The inside of his mouth was also lined with the same textured bumps as the rest of him, just softer and wetter, an interesting detail Logan had gleaned from the head of his penis rubbing repeatedly against Wade’s inner cheeks these past few months. As it turned out, an enthusiastic blowjob before bed really chased the night terrors away. The vaginal sex helped too, he supposed.
All was quiet for a few glorious moments while they swapped spit. Then, Mary Puppins puked on the new carpet in the living room and Wade broke away with a curse.
“Is it the Kirkland brand kibble? Why does this keep happening, girl?”
Logan watched them from the kitchen chair, the last faint dregs of arousal fading away. Discomfort returned. He flexed his stiff fingers and went to open the fridge. There was nothing in there except for a half-eaten roast chicken and the giant tub of potato salad Vanessa had gotten for them from Ray’s last week.
“Where’s the whiskey?” He asked Wade.
“Oh, I tossed it,” The fucker said brightly, “no more daydrinking now that you’re an Avenger, babe.”
His claws came out. “What did I say about touching my shit, Wade?”
“You want to do this now?” Wade dropped the dog and rolled his shoulders back, “gonna be late for school, champ. And I’ll have to replace the carpets again.”
“Fuck you,” He grunted, slamming the fridge door shut and grabbing his jacket off of the couch.
Logan made it downstairs and a few blocks before the tremors overtook him. Withdrawal was a bitch. He staggered into an empty alley, doubled over and vomited what little stomach acid he had left. There was a used condom and a dead rat lying on a half-eaten slice of pizza next to his left boot. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against the smoke-blackened brick of the restaurant building and sucked in a few breaths through his mouth. The combined smell of food, trash and human waste was making him nauseous again, but if he made it to the Avengers tower, there was alcohol waiting. Sweet, sweet–
“Logan?”
Fuck.
He slit open one eye. A blurry figure swam into focus. Wade’s reality had some seriously twisted humor to give Captain America the same face and body as the foulmouthed kid Wade had gotten killed in the void, Johnny something.
“You ok?” Rogers asked, his smile slipping.
“Yeah, just…not a morning person.”
“Do you live in the area?” He asked, falling easily into step beside Logan as he staggered out onto the sidewalk. “We’re in Brooklyn. It’s a bit far out but I like the morning jog into work.”
“We?”
“Oh, Buck and I,” Rogers said, “do you live alone?”
“I wish.”
“Nice weather today,” He commented, peering up at the bright blue sky. Not a single cloud was in sight.
“Can we not do this?” Logan asked.
“Do what?”
“Small talk,” He grimaced, “respectfully, I don’t give a shit about you or the rest of the Avengers. Just accepted the job offer for the hefty paycheck.”
“Right,” Rogers bit his lip. “I’ll shut up.”
If it were only this easy with the missus back home.
“Thank you.”
“Two geriatrics walk into a bar…” Stark whistled as he watched Logan gulp down his thousand-dollar scotch straight from the bottle. “Easy, old timer. It’s not even noon yet. Remind me to give you the contact info of my AA group.” He sniffed Steve’s drink and made a face, “you two didn’t show for the morning meeting with the Secretary of Defense today.”
“You know I hate politics, Tony. And Logan here’s just in it for your money.”
He belched and tossed the empty bottle. “Booze ain’t half bad, either.”
“Freeloading parasites, the lot of you,” Stark said, smirking. “Offer still stands if you want to move in, Hello Kitty.”
The guy was somehow even more irritating than Wade. At least the Deadpool package came with unlimited orgasms.
“Answer’s still no.”
He spent the rest of that early afternoon doing simulation reps in one of Stark’s training rooms until an ugly alarm interrupted Logan’s concentration. He’d hated the intercom system at the Xavier School, but this was somehow worse. To add to the growing list of irritants, he ran into Stark in the elevator. The billionaire's eyebrows shot up his face at the sight of Logan’s bare torso.
“Damn, how are you even more ripped than the younger grandpa?” Stark said, “really making me feel inadequate in my own house.”
Logan dabbed the beads of sweat off his neck with his forearm. “Fuck off.”
“Suit up, team,” Rogers said when they stepped out onto the floor. It was just him.
“You really need three people to deal with a bank robbery?” Then, Logan glanced at the massive mounted screen and felt his heart sink. There was a familiar-looking red and black suit flitting among the thick pillars of smoke billowing from the burning building.
“Damn it.”
“Yeah,” Rogers sighed, “there’s been casualties reported.”
“Hey guys, it’s all good!” Wade shouted when he spotted them, “just a bit of hair pulling among friends, who, umm, are all dead now. By me. I sent everyone to that nice farm upstate. No need to whip out the big guns.”
Some entrails sluiced down the nearby traffic light, a stray kidney rolling to a gentle stop in front of Logan.
“Oh, hello there, Johnny,” Deadpool waved a katana at Rogers, “see, sweetums, I told you he’d live. T'was but a flesh wound.”
“Let me handle this,” Logan said to Captain America as he weaved his way through the pileup of taxis and cracked pavement. People shoved and screamed, running past him in the opposite direction.
“That’s right, yeah, my babygirl’s an Avenger,” Wade yelled at a headless corpse, pausing to blow a few kisses Logan’s way. “Hi, pookums. So proud, look at him go. Light of my life and fire of my loins. Tightest fucking pussy in all of the multiver–”
Logan lobbed a sizable chunk of concrete at his head.
“Roommate?” Rogers asked with a sympathetic smile.
“I suspect it’s not exactly the same chaste christian union you and Barnes got going on,” Stark deadpanned from the sidelines. He powered up his repulsors and launched into the air. “Drop your weapons, lunatic.”
Wade chucked his blade at the man’s helmeted face and dove off the side of the building, loose banknotes fluttering after him like the train of a wedding dress.
“Fuck,” Logan muttered and took off after him on foot.
“Hi, princess,” Wade laughed, the sound rumbling up his chest when Logan managed to pin him down behind an overflowing dumpster.
Logan punched his claws into the bricks next to his head. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Stark flew by overhead. Sirens wailed in the distance. Wade rolled them deeper into the shadows, their legs tangling in the process. He was hard against Logan’s thigh, erect dick pushing flush against the zipper of his bloodsoaked suit. He dug his knee into Wade’s cock as punishment and heard him whine behind the mask, mouth falling open.
“I got fired from the used car dealership last week,” Wade panted, rutting shamelessly against the painful pressure.
“Why?”
“Turns out you’re not supposed to pop a boner every time you show off a secondhand Honda Odyssey. Especially not in front of divorced moms and their underage children.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Wade. You could have told me.”
“Yeah, addiction to Wolverine puss is no joke,” He laughed, pawing at Logan’s zipper. “So, I have decided to fall back on my regularly scheduled criminal activities and contract killing during these hard times. Either that or sell my beautiful body for cash, but we’re monogamous now, remember?”
“I can handle the rent,” Logan grunted, eyes fluttering shut as Wade’s fingers breached him. Rutting against each other in the back of a Chinese restaurant on a Monday during work hours was a new low, but he was soaked through.
“Oh, am I to be your kept woman?” Wade gasped, stuffing a third finger in his cunt. His smile turned predatory. “How scandalous. What would your fellow Avengers think?”
“They can go fuck themselves,” He choked out past a shaky moan, clenching his inner muscles against the rough intrusion. Shockwaves of hot pleasure rocked up Logan’s spine, the filthy squelching sound of Wade’s fingers in his vagina loud over the background hum of a nearby radiator. Wade's other hand touched his dick, thumb digging into the wet slit on top. Logan came hard, legs grounding shut. There was a dull snap as the wrist with the fingers still crammed up his cunt broke.
“Fuck,” Deadpool hissed, going limp against him, “you gonna give me a helping hand here, thunder thighs?”
“I’ll give you somethin’ better, bub,” He said and dropped to his knees.
“You, uh, still got a little something there,” Stark said, gesturing vaguely, “on the corner of your mou– the sideburns, yeah.”
Logan wiped his face with the back of his hand and tossed the last bag of mob cash onto the ground in front of Ironman. He cleared his throat. “There you go.”
“That’s definitely more than five dollars' worth.”
“We done here?” He grunted.
“Maybe,” Stark said cryptically as he swept his eyes down Logan’s disheveled appearance. “Wanna grab a drink to wash out the aftertaste? My treat.”