Chapter Text
The sickening smell of sweat and blood fills the air as the two men fight like a pack of rabid dogs. They claw and bite and rip at each other without hesitation or remorse, and worse? It’s accelerating. Logan hasn’t felt this kind of adrenaline in years. The kind of rush you can only get from something physical. His blood is pumping, mind blank with violence as he stabs and slices Wade open without warning. He can’t die, so Logan can give him all his pent-up frustration and not have to deal with any consequences. The feeling, the burn, the panting, it’s all too much and Logan is reveling in the burning of his chest.
They’ve been at it for hours. Just pure violence and aggression as the fight continues. And Logan could give credit where credit is due, Wade’s a damn good fighter. And…if he was being a bit honest, rather pleasant despite his scarred face. He’d never admit it to anyone, but Wade wasn’t entirely sore in the eyes. And Logan got the best view when Wade’s thick thigh was wrapped around his shoulders, trying to stop the punishing three-prong stab of Logan's claws. And they fought like that for so long that the anger wasn’t even there, just adrenaline. Somehow, Logan would tell you why, Wade got the seat belt wrapped around his leg, and when he went to punch Logan, it snapped his left leg up fully while the other was somehow on Logan's hip. And wasn’t that a sight? Wade’s plump thigh was in the air, fully exposed as the curve of his back complemented his rather impressive body. Nice, muscular arms and, rather, a thin waist that pushed out into wonderfully strong legs. And, Logan had to admit, he had a pretty sweet ass that he saw jiggle once or twice while the fight happened.
“Goddamnit!” Wade gasped out as Logan stabbed right through his leg, making his back arch in pain. That noise that came out of him genuinely made Logan shiver. A small gasp turned into a groan as the blood spilled down his thigh and Wade finally managed to escape from the seatbelt snare.
“Okay, I take back my previous statement,” Wade pulls up the bottom part of his mask to reveal a wolfish smirk. “You’re packing Peanut, that is not a needledick.” He states as he pulls himself up, now properly leaning back against the backseat of the Honda.
Logan’s about to ask him the fuck he’s talking about when he finally feels it. His cock is as hard as his damn skeleton, erect and angry, and very visible to Wade. Wade who is crackling at Logan’s misfortune. He grimaces and pulls back with a growl.
“Piss off asshole.”
“Wish you’d do that to me.” Wade jokes as his head rolls back. “Don’t actually, I’m a total freak but I’m not that disgusting. Golden showers aren’t exactly my thing baby boy, especially with your alcoholism. Your piss is probably as yellow as your fucking suit.” Wade quips as Logan's disgusted face scowls at him.
“The fuck is wrong with you, Bub?” He is genuinely disturbed at that entire statement that came out of the dunderhead’s mouth.
“Oh lots of things, baby cakes.” He draws out with a whispered voice. But you have a worse problem right now.”
He slowly drags a hand down Logan’s thigh as he makes eye contact with him through the mask.
“I’d be glad to fix that for you, baby girl. If you’re willing for another round of fights.”
Wade purrs out, gently rolling his hips in a way that makes Logan’s head slightly dizzy. Slowly, testing the waters of Logan’s tolerance, he drags his hips up to flush with Logan’s pelvis. The pressure is intoxicating, like a chemical drug that had Logan growling like the animal he is.
“So…whaddya’ say sweet cheeks, Wanna let me ride you into the sunset?” Wade chuckled as he continued his motions, reveling in the way Logan groans atop of him. Those deep, hazel eyes piercing into his brown eyes as he grips Wade’s hips.
“Shut up, Bub.’ He growled into Wade’s ear, taking the time to grip Wade’s belt, forcefully lifting it up making his torso arch up. He tugged at it until it was loose and off of the man in the red suit. Wade gasped and bit his lip through his mask.
“Oh fuck yes! ’ He gasped and rolled his hips up into the others rough hands, their eyes locking for a moment. Logan’s flushed face was steaming with desire. He shouldn’t be attracted to this pepperoni faced man, nor see him as attractive as he did. But a phat ass is a phat ass. And it had been a while since he’d got a good lay. With a loud snarl, he turns Wade around on his knees and pushes his head into the pleather seat, secretly enjoying the way the sudden movement made the other man’s ass move. ‘Fuck It, I’ll deal with the consequences later.” He thinks, before raising a gloved, leather hand in the air and immediately striking Wade. The man moans and Logan smirks at the way his rear moves. Seriously, if it wasn’t for his face and personality, Wade would be a total catch. Shame.
“Oh fucking Marvel J. Christ Peanut, didn’t take you as the spanking type.’ He groans out, fueling Logan’s ego with his whimpers. Arching his back Wade slowly grinds on Logan’s pelvis, smirking at the grunt Logan lets out. “Now how about you plow this juicy ass into next week, eh?” He quips, rolling his mask up to his nose to breathe better.
Logan smirks at that, throwing caution to the wind as he slowly pulls down the pants of Wade’s suit and…
Holy Christ on a stick. That ass.
Like Wade’s face (and the rest of his body) his ass was scarred and covered in tumor-like masses, plains of disfigured skin that dipped at curved at awkward angles. But despite all that, his ass was smooth and curved. There was a natural shine to it, a good amount of meat in his thighs, and some well defined dimples. And in between those plump, muscular thighs was a wetness that Logan didn’t expect, but most certainly welcomed. A pair of pretty lips, equally hairless as their owner, drooled with desire at Logan’s presence. Between them, was a wonderful ball of nerves that Logan recognized as a clitorous. A rather enlarged one, that looked to be slightly distorted. Most likely a byproduct of what testerone Wade was on.
“Um, hello? Earth to Wolvie!” A voice cut through the air like a knife. It was meak, and poorly hidden through false confidence. Wade was staring at Logan, his head turned to look over his shoulder as he tried to pull the man above him from whatever he was thinking about.
“I know you were probably expecting a joystick, but a touchpad can also get the job done…If you’re not too disappointed.” The last part of the sentence was smaller, more vulnerable as turned away. Perhaps he should’ve informed Logan of his genitalia, or better yet ignore the entire situation and get back to saving his universe-but then a gloved thumb gently spread open his lips and a nose was pressed between them.
“Oh fuck!” Wade gapsed, a quiver in his voice and he felt Logan’s tongue wipe against him. His thighs shook and a sigh left his mouth.
“Hmmm. That’s a pleasant sight.” Logan murmured, kissing Wade’s clit before turning him on his back. He spread Wade’s leg higher, wrapping them on his shoulder as he went back down. A whining moan erupted from Wade as Logan went down. His long tongue flattened and pressed between the folds, opening them up as he sucked Wade’s clit. Wade was a goner, thighs trembling and sweat glistening down each supple curve and dip of his scarred flesh. They were so full, so plump and strong and beautiful. Like a greek statue carved with a delicate hand, tender meat and muscle all for Logan to have to himself.
He didn't even realize he was massaging on Wade’s thigh until a squeal ripped him from his thoughts and his head was being crushed underneath two wonderful mounds of flesh. Looking up, he saw Wade. Panting and shaking, the back of his hand caught between his teeth.
And what a pretty sight Wade was, all flushed and panting. His skin was shining with his sweat and his eyes were watering with unshed tears.
“F-fuck…” He finally stated, releasing Logan from the headlock he had him in. His thighs were still trembling as he looked at Logan with hooded eyelids.
“Well that’s one way to shut you up. Isn’t it?”
The man snarked out, loving how the other one was practically jelly underneath him. Without warning, Wade passed out. Immediately sleeping after what was possibly the best sex of his life. And what a nice way to go. Logan thinks, ready to abandon him in the car. Tying him up with the seatbelts and quickly jerking his problem away, he’s about to leave. That is until he sees a small, diggy photo on the floor of the car. It’s Wade, and his friends. His friends. But not really. No, his friends are dead. But Wade’s friends aren’t. At least not yet.
He was going to leave. He was certain of it. But instead all he does is lay back and catch a few hours of sleep until Wade wakes up. He can’t run away. Not again. Not when he had a chance to make up for what he did.