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Wade can hear Nate’s voice in his head, nasty and edge with enough condescension that it actually makes ‘Pool want to shrink in on himself. It’s cutting, “~Really. You’re so pathetic you’ll get hard here?~” and look, Wade can’t help it!
He’s never had this issue before! Maybe a few post fight, adrenaline high boners but he’s not doing this on purpose! He promises. Swears on it. It just so happens that he may also have a competency kink the size of Jupiter which had snuck up on him and hit him where it hurts right in the goddamn middle of a fight.
That usually would be okay, kinda. He was a merc. A professional. Had dealt with a large number of weird bodily situations, had had to handle raging hard ons after a fight because he couldn’t walk. Wades well aware of his body, even when he tosses it around and gets it dismembered. Knows what it’s like to lose a limb, forge on and regrow it. Knows what it’s like to have to bounce back from being dead in seconds. He’s been through a lot.
Today, however, was a cluster fuck.
This was the first time that Wade was working with both Logan AND Nate. Two of the most competent people that he knew. It drove him fucking wild.
Nate’s big gun, careful planing, ability to lead and pivot attention and resources, the way he took down enemies and kept tabs on all their allies. The way he fielded Wade perfectly like he was a world class dog handler and Wade was some kind of- he’d be a Belgian Malinois wouldn’t he? Give those dogs some crack and they would be him.
Oh god. Nate could train him like one. Kink discovery later. Later! He’s having a crisis about Nate and Logan.
Which, talking about Logan? Watching him in action- through a scope because fucking stupid brain, ADHD riddled Wade got to be snipe man this time!- dangerous and animal but cunning did things to him. It was the unrestrained Predator propel Logan pulled out of his arse every now and then, the clear narrowed focus that he’d been on the receiving end of once and still shivered from.
It was watching a trusted pack leader send out his best hunting dog and reign victorious. The pair deadly, violent, breathtakingly beautiful and stained in Wades signature colour. Red.
He lay on the ground, rifle steady, tracking their targets, grinding his cock pathetically into the gravel because well. It’s Logan and Nate.
Nate’s voice echoes in his head again, Wade wonders how he has enough brain power for everything he’s doing and enough left to tease Wade mercilessly. “~Oh sweetheart. It’ll train you REAL well. Make you as deserving to be my attack dog as Logan. Would you like that, puppy?~”
Wade *whines* high in his throat, hands **gripping** the rifle in his hands and doing his best to not close his eyes. To not let the pair slip from his eye sight for more than a hand full of milliseconds. Something in his brain must tip Nate off though, how close he is to sinking into the soft stupid place in his head that he only goes to when Nate makes him cockwarm or fucks him so hard and good that he falls into a quieter part of him.
Logan had said he had major sub energy. Wade likes to think that’s bullshit but there’s so much evidence to back the clawed man’s claims.
“~Focus, pup. You need to focus.~” the voice gentles again, a weird caress to his brain that feels tingly and cool before it withdraws enough that Wade knows he’s probably talking to Logan now.
Which is supported but the fact that the Wolverine twists enough to look Wade down the scope and give a mean sneer that promises nothing nice. Nate’s harsh laughs floats to him, both on the air around their battlefield and into his mind directly.
“~Heres what’s going to happen, puppy. You’re going to find your target, set up the shot and take him out. Just like we planned. You can keep dragging your filthy cock against the dirt and whining all pretty for him but you don’t get to come. At all.~”
Wade can’t even describe the noise he makes, scope already swivelling to area he had had to memorise in the brief. It was a rabbit flushing mission. Spook the target, make him run out the only other door that wasn’t the back and pew. Done. It wasn’t *easy* exactly but getting so turned on it flipped his stomach had made it near impossibly hard.
“~Nate-~” He starts to reply, but his partner just coos. It sounds so mean. So filled with false patience that makes Wade drag his dick so hard against a piece of gravel he’s actually scared it’s cut into his suit and about to dig into his urethra. And he’s not exactly into that.
Dicks were weird enough without sticking things down there.
“~Shut up and do as you’re told Wade, it’s all a pretty dog like you had to do. Just follow orders and get fucked.~”
Wade actually bites the tip of his tongue clean off, rifle creaking in his hand as he sends all his jumbled thoughts down to the evil motherfucker that is his asshole boyfriend. He’s wild with it, bucking his hips harshly even as the target slips out the back door rabbit quick.
It sets a weird instinct off in his head, ones he’s had to deal with before. The need yo physically chase and main, one he hadn’t actually had to leash down as hard as he is now. It’s a savage confusing ache that has him putting down the target seconds before he gets away.
The “~good dog~” he gets is so worth it, the weird wild feeling in his chest and the jizz painting the insides of his suit. With a groan Wade leans against his scope, mind blissfully empty save for the embarrassment and that flatness that comes with that brain place Dom Nate puts him.
Time to pack down and head home.
~~
It’s a little while after they get home, Logan is pottering around and sticking close by while he becomes more ‘human’. It’s always like that after an extended violent mission. He hands out with Wade and Nate, growls, grunts and hisses only to eventually settle at their feet and slowly become,,, well that but more human? Logan’s weird, Wade decides. The same as the Wolverine and as Logan Howlett. Wade wonders what it’s like being an animal like that.
“You’re thinking loudly again, Wade. Just settle tonight and we’ll talk it over tomorrow.”
Wade burrows down into Nate’s thigh, hand coming up to test Logan’s touch boundaries before seizing his shirt in a death grip. “Logan stays.” And then he’s out.