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Wade isn't sure how long he's spent staring out the window in a haze of pain and fatigue, only that he was previously looking at a gloomy and rainy late-morning street, and now is seeing his own ugly-ass reflection on top of a gloomy and rainy night-time street. The all-consuming November darkness is lit only by streetlamps and the odd passing pair of headlights, and the silence broken only by Dogpool's gross little snores.
Wade lets out a sigh and leans forward until his forehead thunks against the windowpane. The glass is cool against his scarred skin, soothing slightly the constant ache that the continuous battle between his cancer and regenerative abilities leaves him with.
Today was a bad day. One of several in a row.
Wade isn't sure if it was the seasonal shift in temperature, the weather having cooled significantly in the past few weeks, or the lovely very-much-unplanned swim he took in a nearly-frozen lake a few days ago- that mission sucked ass. But guess it doesn't matter. The result is that Wade's joints are aching like Hugh Jackman's will when he's still acting at 90, and his scarred skin is so sensitive he can only handle wearing his softest pajamas- a matching Hello Kitty set, obviously- which still feel vaguely scratchy if they rub his skin wrong.
Wade is shaken from his thoughts when he hears the telltale sound of the apartment door being unlocked. He peels his forehead away from the window just as Logan steps inside, dropping his keys on their scuffed little entry table with a sigh. He'd gone out for his weekly lunch with Laura, which usually turned into an afternoon out. Though awkward at first, the pair were slowly learning how to be family, and Wade was happy for him and not at all jealous. No, not even a little bit, thanks for asking.
When Logan's gaze turns to Wade for the first time since entering, an unreadable look flashes across his face. However, he quickly returns to his usual unimpressed vaguely-bitchy expression.
"You been standin' there the whole time?" Logan asks as he takes off his boots, sinking down onto the couch next to Mary to do so. The scraggly dog wakes up enough to crack open one eye and give a few tail wags when Logan offers her a pat.
"What?" Wade scoffs, "Don't be silly honeybear, I have way too much to do. There's a Wheel of Fortune marathon on in-" he glances at the clock and blinks, "-two hours ago. I have so many obligations."
Logan looks at him and grunts, which Wade chooses to take as enthusiastic agreement.
“Didya eat yet?” Logan asks as he stands, placing his boots by the door and heading into their tiny kitchen.
"Without you? Never!" Wade replies in mock horror. "How could you say such a thing? Do you really think so lowly of me that I would indulge in such a pleasure without you?"
Wade clasps his hands over his heart, falling back against the couch in a most dramatic fashion which make his aching joints twinge. "My heart is broken, my soul, betrayed. I've never before been hurt so-"
"Jesus Christ, you're dramatic," is the only warning he gets before he's thwacked in the face by something soft. It still makes his sensitive skin feel scraped raw.
He untangles himself quickly from the wad of fabric, quickly realizing it's Logan's sweatshirt which he'd thrown at him from the kitchen.
"Rude," Wade pouts, but he stops monologing and gets up to feed Mary her dinner (that raw freeze-dried shit- only the best for his baby) before hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter near Logan as he works.
He slips on the sweatshirt which had been so rudely chucked at him, and it's surprisingly soft on the inside. It smells faintly of woodsmoke and something richer, something simply Logan. He hadn't even realized he was cold until he wasn't anymore.
Logan glares briefly at Wade's intrusion into his workspace- and use of Logan's clothing- but quickly returns to pulling out ingredients from the fridge. One of the many lovely changes since Logan moved in a few months ago is that there was now actual, real, not-instant-noodle food in his apartment. Just that alone made their whole timeline-unraveling adventure worth it.
Wade has offered to help Logan with cooking in the past, but after he caught pasta on fire he's been banned to simply watching. The pasta was still cooking. In water. Neither of them understand how that even happened.
Wade continues rambling on about nothing as Logan cooks. He keeps a wary eye on the boiling water, just in case it decides to spontaneously combust due to his mere proximity.
Logan rarely chimes in to the conversation, generally only offering a vague grunt or hum, but Wade doesn't mind. He's honestly just astounded that Logan never seems to make an actual effort to quiet him or shoo him away. Sure, he'll complain half-heartedly when Wade is particularly dramatic or says something completely bizarre, but he never tells him to shut up or that he's too much. Something he's certainly heard before. From friends and lovers alike.
Logan never makes him feel like he needs to change in any way.
It's... strange. But good.
Wade flinches, startled out of his thoughts by the warmth of a touch on his arm. Though gentle, it sends an odd fizzing through his fried nerves.
Logan is standing in front of him, quickly pulling his hand away from Wade's arm while studying him with a strange look on his face.
"I called your name several times,” Logan says. “You went quiet. You were mid-sentence."
Wade blinks for a moment before he replies. The brain fog is the worst part of his flare ups, making it even harder than normal for his ADHD-ass to function.
"Oops, my bad," he laughs awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of Logan's sweatshirt before flipping up the hood to hide from the other man's piercing gaze, "What was- I didn't even realize you were actually listening. Speaking of, did I ever tell you about that story about the cheetah and the dog I listened to on the radio? I'll tell you now I ugly cried for real at-"
"Wade," Logan repeats his name uncharacteristically gently, ducking his head to try to catch Wade's eyes. He carefully avoids touching him again. "Yes, you told me that story. It was very... nice, but what's goin' on?"
"Oh, well... good. Everyone needs a nice heartwarming microdose of positivity. Preferably while microdosing something else, but that's okay, no peer pressure in this household."
Wade carefully scoots away before sliding gingerly off the counter, his socked feet aching with his weight as he stands, "And I'm fine, but thanks for the concern, honeybear. I feel so loved," Wade flutters his lashes dramatically.
Logan rolls his eyes.
"Fuckin' hell."
But Logan lets it go and turns back to the food. Though Wade catches the small upturn at the corner of his mouth and slight redness in his cheeks. However, since Wade doesn't currently fancy being skewered, he decides not to mention it.
Wade doesn't realize quite how hungry he is until Logan places a plate of food in front of him. Wade tries to eat his dinner slowly, but still ends up bolting down most of his pasta within a few minutes.
When he finally sits back with a sigh, satisfied, he looks up to find Logan watching him with that odd look on his face again.
"Well, that was lovely," Wade says as he stands, suppressing a groan of pain, "but I'm going to take a bath. So if you don't want to hear ungodly things you might want to take our doggy for her nightly stroll. She misses you terribly when you're gone, you know. Don't you princess?"
Mary, snoring loudly, doesn't deign to acknowledge either of them as she lays sprawled out under their folding table.
"I'll remember this betrayal," Wade hisses at her, scandalized.
"She's your dog, not ours," Logan mutters unconvincingly in response before continuing more loudly, "Sit back down, we still need to talk."
Wade gulps. The 'we need to talk' never prefaces anything good. Sounds like it's time for him to make his escape from this interaction. He starts to back away, opens his mouth to deflect once again, when Logan reaches up and grabs his forearm to pull him back into his seat.
Normally, this would be fine. Logan's grip, while firm, is obviously not meant to hurt him. He knows his strength and is always so careful, even with people like Wade where it doesn't matter. Even if Logan did hurt him, he'd heal from any injuries practically immediately, so it's really not necessary.
The point is, normally it would be fine. Today is not normal.
Wade can't help the near-silent gasp, just a quick intake of breath, at the flash of pain streaking through his damaged nerves. The reaction would probably be unnoticeable to the average person. He's just so used to the pain at this point. Though he feels every flicker of it, he's gotten better at ignoring it. Hiding it away from the world.
Unfortunately, just like how today isn't normal, Logan isn't the average person.
Logan freezes. Wade feels the other's eyes glued to his face, studying his expression as he refuses to make eye contact.
This time, Logan only loosens his grip instead of withdrawing entirely. He stands carefully and steps closer to Wade, keeping his gentle hold on his arm.
For once, Wade stands still and silent. His eyes downcast and glued to the floor.
"Wade," Logan says his name softer than he's ever heard it before,"Is something wrong with your healing factor? You're hurt. You've been hurt all evening."
Wade chuckles bitterly, "Nope, sorry to disappoint honeybuns, but everything is perfectly normal over here."
Logan's brow furrows, "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not," Wade snaps. He tugs against Logan's hold but stops quickly as lightning pain shoots up his arm.
Logan lets him go anyway. He watches silently and with a piercing gaze as Wade wraps his arms protectively around his middle.
"You know my whole origin story, right? Released in 2016, 108 minutes of delicious cancer-riddled plot?"
Logan blinks.
"... I know about your cancer, yes."
"Well, it kinda sucks, believe it or not," Wade sighs, tightening his arms around his waist and ignoring the ache it causes.
"But... your regeneration? Aren't you healed?"
Wade scoffs, "Yeah, turns out my beautiful powers are sorta, like, from the cancer. I can't die, but I get to live with the cancer for... like forever apparently."
He hopes the lump in his throat isn't evident in his voice.
"But hey," Wade shrugs, "Some days are worse than others, and most are better than this."
Logan is still watching him closely, and Wade shifts restlessly from foot to foot in the silence.
Finally, Logan turns, heading back into the kitchen.
"Go sit."
"What?" Wade replies, confused by the abrupt change of conversation.
"Go sit and watch your... wheel show."
Perplexed, Wade shakes his head but does as Logan says. He scoops up Mary on the way, settling her on his lap and getting a few slobbery kisses in thanks.
By the time Wheel of Fortune is up and playing, volume low so as not to disturb Ms. Puppins' sleep, Logan comes padding back into the room.
He stops awkwardly in front of Wade, avoiding eye-contact as he holds out a bright pink hot water bottle.
Silently, Wade reaches out and takes it like it's the most precious gift in the world.
He has no idea where Logan got it, but it's nice and warm to the touch. He settles it over his right shoulder, where the pain is currently the worst, and lets out a sigh as the ache is instantly soothed slightly by the heat. Leaning back into the couch, he ignores the stinging behind his eyes.
"Thanks," Wade murmurs, clearing his throat as his voice catches.
"Hm," is Logan's only reply as he sits carefully to the right of him on the couch. Wade has to focus even harder on the TV in order not to cry when he realizes Logan's caution was so that he didn't cause Wade more pain by jostling him.
The couch is small, and their arms almost touch as they sit there watching reruns. For some time, the only sound is the TV and Mary's snuffles.
"You should have told me."
Wade tenses as he responds, feeling offended and insecure, "It doesn't affect my work, you know. Most days are better, and I can power through fine if I need to. I don't see why it would impact our partnership."
"No, that's not- I don't want you to have to... power through."
Wade can feel Logan's eyes on him, even though he keeps his own affixed to the TV, "Well... some things are urgent. Can't let the bad guy get away with blowing up the world or whatever."
"Well maybe someone else can fuckin' deal with it for once."
At that, Wade finally looks up and meets Logan's gaze. There's a furrow to the other man's brow, and an intensity in his eyes that Wade can't name.
"...okay," Wade mumbles, the tension in his form seeping away in the face of Logan's lack of disdain.
He's given another grunt in reply, Logan also settling back down and returning his attention to the TV.
* * *
Logan doesn't entirely understand Wade's fascination with Wheel of Fortune, but he's watching the TV regardless when he feels a weight come to rest against his shoulder. Glancing over, he sees that Wade has finally succumbed to his obvious exhaustion, listing sideways in his sleep to rest against Logan's side.
Carefully, he lifts his arm so Wade gently slides to rest against his chest. He places the now-cold water bottle on the floor, and swipes the blanket off the back of the couch. He covers Wade with it and carefully tucks it around Mary, who is still on Wade's lap, so that only her face isn't covered.
The dog sleepily blinks open one bulging eye, and licks at Logan's hand as he works.
"Good dog," he murmurs, patting her tenderly on the head. He then leans back into the couch and closes his eyes himself, Wade a warm comfort against his chest.