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“Giddy up, it's the Wild Wild West and I think it's 'bout time for the midnight cowboy…I'm a real wild bitch, yeah, I'm mental, I'm the ride of your life, not a rental” - JADE, midnight cowboy
-
The way that Logan huffs and whines like a bitch on two fingers curled in his ass quite possibly be the best sound in any and all universes, in Wade's not so humble opinion.
“I love to hear you beg, sweetheart,” coos Wade. “So pretty for me, take it so well.”
Logan moans weakly, rutting against Wade's forearm where it's pressed against his cock. Wade has him pinned to the front seat of their truck, stretching his hole with slick, skilled fingers. “More, please, I need more.”
Wade tuts at him, shaking his head. “Nu-huh. Not yet. You want something bigger to fill you up, then you're gonna have to catch me.”
Logan knows this. They planned this. The teasing and the begging and the hunt, he craved it. Tonight the sky was clear and the moon was bright, and here they were: parked off the side of the road at one of the hiking trails in the forest. Two grown men fooling around like teenagers and fogging up the windows.
“I'm gonna,” Logan pants. “I'll catch you.”
Wade smirks, scissoring his fingers wider. He had to get Logan ready enough that when he claimed his prey he could use him like he needed to. And what Logan had asked for was Wade on his back somewhere up the mountain, happy to let Logan ride him into the ground.
Wade needed no convincing. What his peanut wants, his peanut gets. Wade’s gonna make him work for it, though. They haven't had a good play like this in months, life making them busy with work and extended family needs. They both craved quality time and more physical touch, getting only quick kisses and rushed shower orgasms lately.
Logan cants his hips forward, seeking friction. Wade brushes his sweet spot, sending pleasure sparks up Logan's spine, and then slides his lube sticky fingers out of his partner. The action makes a leud, wet sound; Wade wipes his hand on Logan's thigh. They won't be clean ‘till the sun rises, no point caring now.
“Time for me to go and you to get dressed. Try to get that big guy down to half mast, baby boy, it'll be painful to run with that thing swingin’.”
Logan hates the empty feeling already, clenching around nothing. He wants Wade's mouth on him, swallowing him down. He's just so good at it, damn mouth is so distracting.
He takes several deep breaths, willing his heart to stop racing. Wade's right, this is only the beginning. They have the rest of the night ahead.
“I'll give you a two minute head start. Head west, whistle if you come across something we need to avoid.”
Wade nods in practised agreement, and kisses Logan once before he gets out of the truck. He throws their backpack over his shoulders and fastens the chest strap. Any good outdoorsman comes prepared! For them it contains: a thick blanket, spare clothes, a flashlight, water bottles, protein snacks, and silicone lube.
The evening air is cool and fresh, it rained two days ago and everything smells amazing. Wade takes one final look at his husband, still slumped on the front seat and a little sweaty. Fuck, he's gorgeous. Logan's eyes have darkened, gaze heavy through the open door. His lips part. Wade can see his sharp canines; his heartbeat thumps in his chest at the sight.
“Run.”
-
Wade's mind was locked only onto auditory input; the only thing he could focus on was the pounding of his own heart in his ears and his feet hitting the ground beneath him. He ran and swerved and leaped over fallen branches. It was still light enough for him to see ahead and avoid going head first into a tree, but soon night would fall completely and blanket the forest in darkness. Only Logan will be able to see then, his animalistic advantage of night sight aiding him in catching his prey. Wade, the proverbial deer running for the hills being hunted by something bigger, stronger, and meaner.
Wade pulls his favourite baby knife (affectionately called Francesca, after the Bridgerton character - he and Al liked to watch the romance series when he visited) from the holster on his thigh, and slices his left palm open. He pauses, pressing his hand hard to the bark of a tree so his blood would transfer. He licks the remaining tangy blood from his hand, hoping Logan would focus on the blood left behind and not the warm blood in his veins. Then Wade sprints off in the opposite direction.
Logan was only a mile behind him, muscles burning in the best way as he chased the kill. Every so often he would stop and scent the air, using years of experience to sort through the smells of the forest (the trees, the moss, the mud, the small mammals, the birds, the river to the south) until he locked back onto Wade. He growled, a dangerous sound rumbling from his chest and through sharp teeth. Not long now.
Wade was stepping across rocks on light feet, crossing a stream that was running south down the mountain, when he heard movement at his nine o’clock. An animal, or his animal?
Wade jumps the remaining distance to dry land and high tails it up a wide tree, climbing available branches and swinging up to crouch from an ideal vantage point. The sky was a dark navy blue now, but the natural shine of the moon lit the area enough for Wade to see a large shape approach.
Slow, stalking movements. A predator on the hunt. Wade holds his breath, body tense and aching with anticipation.
The animal stops on the far side of the stream and for a moment Wade thinks it will turn and head south. And then it lifts its head, nose catching the scent of Wade on the breeze - sweat, blood, arousal, excitement and just a touch of fear. It smirks, and then looks up at Wade, dangerous eyes glowing yellow.
I've got you.
-
Wade loves that look, has wept over it.
But he's not ready to admit defeat, they haven't even got stabby yet. Wade's heartbeat picks up again as he rises to stand on the branch, baby knife in hand again. “Hi, peanut," he waves ridiculously. "I've got the high ground!”
Logan bares his teeth, eyes glowing yellow in the moonlight. “I've got the teeth. And claws.”
Wade's laugh is loud in the otherwise quiet darkness. “Fuck yeah you do, let's get stabby with it.”
He leaps gracefully from the tree, spinning in the air (a move that would have been so cinematic if he had his swords, but it would have been harder to run wearing full gear), landing hard on Logan's back with his knife firmly in right shoulder. Logan howls as the blade slices through muscle and lodges underneath his joint. He fights back immediately, bends over and flips Wade to the ground erotic wrestling style. He spears Wade through the chest and thigh with his claws, and Wade's head hits the dirt with a shout.
He uses his substantial weight advantage to pin his partner to the ground, knees and claws. Logan leans down close to his face, “You smell so fucking good.” Presses his face into Wade's neck and inhales, pleased at the resulting whine and shiver. “I love chasing you.”
“I love you catching me,” Wade whispers into the side of Logan's head, hands coming up to push fingers through messy hair. “But you haven't heard your treat quite yet, puppy.”
Logan groans in protest and sinks his teeth into Wade's trapezius muscle, the instinct to taste his lover overcoming him. Wade grips his hair tight and wriggles underneath him, sharp points of pleasurepain singing through his nerves all over. This man loves to work him like a goddamn chew toy, always looking for the squeak - and fuck does Wade squeak for him.
“I know, baby boy,” Wade says, patting Logan's shoulders. “But up the fuck you get! The bag is digging into my back in a bad way.”
Logan licks the blood from Wade's skin, savouring the taste on his tongue. He rises to his haunches, claws retracting, then gives Wade a hand in getting off the ground.
Wade shakes his head like there are leaves in his non-existent hair, then drops the bag to the ground. “Ok, big guy, strip to your naked wolverine glory.”
Logan's hands go to his clothes in an instant, always such a good boy when Wade's like this. He's nude before Wade even has the blanket out of the bag, hard cock standing proudly from his thick, dark body hair. Entirely without shame. And why would he, he's fucking beautiful. And all Wade's to take apart.
Wade shakes the blanket out and spreads it over the ground (it's not to be romantic, it's to protect Wade's sensitive skin from sharp twigs and rocks and god knows what else).
“Down boy, kneel.”
Loki and Hela have nothing on a very horny Deadpool when his husband needs something special.
Logan drops to his knees, hands in place on his strong, thick thighs. Submission gifted gratefully. Wade hooks a finger under his jaw and tilts his head up, “Baby, you're doing so well,” Logan sighs at the praise, cock twitching. “You're going to undress me, get me nice and wet for you, then you can go ahead and take what you need, okay?”
Logan nods, “Okay.”
Wade smiles down at his favourite plaything, then caresses his jaw. Soft facial hair that grows in almost entirely grey now; Wade loves to feel it between his thighs.
Logan's hands come to rest at Wade's hips, and he tugs down Wade's shorts and yoga leggings in one go. He leans forward to press adoring kisses to Wade's thighs, unclips his weapon's holster, and pulls his clothing the rest of the way down. Wade helps by stepping out of his shoes and crumpled clothes. He shivers as the cool air hits his bare skin, then moans softly as Logan's warm hands caress his legs.
Logan grips his hips hard, claw tips sliding out and scratching easily. Droplets of blood begin to run down Wade's thighs before Logan's needy mouth catches them, hot tongue licking greedily all the way up to Wade's crotch. He presses his nose into the crease of his inner thigh, inhaling the heady scent of Wade's arousal.
Wade pets Logan's hair again, “Your mouth is so nice, baby.” His cock is aching to be touched but Logan goes for his balls first. He nuzzles his sensitive skin; presses messy, open-mouthed kisses around his junk. A teasing finger finds Wade's taint and he moans, almost tempting to screw the plan and get fucked first.
When Logan finally gets his wicked mouth on Wade's cock, he wastes no more time. Licking the hard length hungrily, sucking the tip into the wet, hot home of Logan's mouth.
“Ohmyfuckinggod, baby boy, I love you.”
Logan hums, practically a purr, around the cock in his mouth. The vibration makes Wade moan again, fingernails scratching Logan's scalp.
Wade allows himself to get lost in the pleasure for a short while, it's been weeks since he's been able to have his husband on his knees like this. But before long he feels his arousal heighten, so he uses his grip on Logan's hair to pull him off. An obscene line of spit connects Logan's mouth to the tip of Wade's dick.
Wade catches it with his thumb and pushes it back into Logan's slack mouth. “So pretty, peanut.” Logan swallows. “Grab the lube for me?”
Logan sways just a little on his knees, head already starting to go spacey. He licks his lips then reaches over to dig through the backpack, finding a travel sized bottle of lubricant inside a zipped compartment. Wade shrugs off his long sleeved t-shirt, throwing it in the general direction of the rest of their clothing.
It's definitely harder to see now. But that means his hearing has strengthened, and he can't wait to hear Logan lose it grinding on his cock.
-
Wade stretches out across the centre of the thick blanket (never borrow a picnic blanket from the Wilson's), and beckons Logan over.
Logan crawls over to his partner and straddles his hips, their cocks brushing in a way that makes them both bitch a breath. Logan's dick is thick and tantalising, but Wade's is longer; it always fills Logan’s ass up so nicely.
Logan snaps open the cap of the lube and squeezes out a small amount onto his palm. He grasps Wade's shaft with a firm hand and strokes, lube slicking over soft skin and making Wade's hips jerk. “I love touching you like this.”
“Your hand always feels amazing, baby girl.” Logan twists his wrist and strokes lightly over the slit with his thumb. “Okay, okay, good enough.” He taps Logan's thigh twice, “Giddy up, cowboy!”
Logan can't help but laugh, as much as he feels overwhelmed with arousal and needs, it's always easy to have fun during sex with Wade.
They've been building up to this play time for days, once they knew they finally had a night a day all to themselves. No rushing out to work tomorrow, no visitors, no responsibilities. Just a chance to run wild and fuck and fight all night.
Logan rises up enough to balance over Wade's cock, holding the base of his shaft steady from behind. Wade watches his lover position himself, feels the blunt head of his cock press against his favourite ass in the multiverse, and then in. Logan sinks down slowly and then all at once, bottoming out with a deep needy moan.
“Oh shit, Logan.”
“Fuck, I know. Can I move?”
Wade slides his rough palms up Logan's strong, sexy thighs. “Ride your heart out.”
Permission acquired. Locked and loaded.
Logan spent so long hating himself, hating animalistic tendencies, and the way people made him into a weapon. But Wade. He loves him. All that he is. The joy and the sadness, the shared sadomasochism, the sometimes feral nature buried under his skin. Wade sees everything he is; he knows him inside and out.
Nothing fucks with Logan's head more than the loving way Wade strips him down and builds him back up, when that's what he asks for.
Logan works himself on Wade's cock, uses the firm length of him like his own personal fuck toy. He can hear his own heavy breathing and the filthy sound of their sex, but the only thing he can latch onto are the sounds coming out of Wade's mouth. Nothing makes much sense through the arousal haze; Wade's mumbling a mix of sweet nothings and dirty talk that could make an escort blush (and has).
If there were any animals nearby they would definitely have been spooked away by now.
Logan shifts position and drives himself down at a new angle that makes his eyes roll back. His thigh muscles burn with exertion and his chest heaves, skin glistening with sweat. Wade gazes at him with complete adoration; Logan paints such a beautiful sight as he loses himself in pleasure.
Logan tries to get a hand on his own cock, but finds it swatted away by Wade. He whines at the dismissal, face creased in confusion.
“You're coming on my dick first, I know you can do it.” Evil. His husband is pure evil.
Logan throws his head back and growls in frustration but redoubles his efforts, hips circling in Wade's lap. His abdomen tightens and he feels his climax around the corner but he just can't get there. When his moans become higher in pitch and it's clear he needs just a little more Wade surges up; grips his hips tight and pulls him to his chest. Logan's throbbing, leaking cock is trapped between their stomachs.
“That's it, baby, come on.”
Logan wraps his big arms around Wade's upper body and rubs up against him. So fucking close.
Wade kisses his jaw and then, with a ferocity that could rival Logan himself; he sinks his teeth into Logan's neck and bites down.
He feels Logan's body freeze, his breath stop, and then he roars; the wildest thing in the forest for miles around. He hears the familiar sound of Logan's claws sliding out, the skin of his knuckles ripping painfully. The combination of sensations has Logan shaking in Wade's arms as his cock pulses between their stomachs.
Once Wade has licked the mess of blood from Logan's neck, he nuzzles against his ear and softly says, “Oh, darling, that's it.” Wade holds them both upright as best he can; his cock is throbbing with need within the tight heat of Logan's body but he needs to ignore it for now.
Logan rides out the waves of his climax, shivering with aftershocks with every slight movement. Once he has caught his breath, he leans back so he can find Wade's mouth. He kisses him, tasting his own blood and moaning, pouring his feelings into the action because he doesn't think he can form any words quite yet.
They kiss deep and slow, tongues exploring mouths they know every part of but never wanting anything else. When they part, Wade finds that Logan's face looks truly fucked out. His lips are red and swollen, eyes glassy with pupils huge in the darkness.
“You doin’ okay?” he asks quietly, checking in.
Logan licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry without Wade's tongue inside it. “Yeah,” he replies, voice rough. “Thanks.” He's blushing, post-orgasm bliss mixing with a little shyness.
“You're so welcome, honey badger. Now, you wanna flip over and get fucked from behind, or on your back?”
There's a glint in Logan's eyes again, fuck shyness. Why did that even try to sneak in? He doesn't answer, just rises up fully onto his knees again and lets Wade's still hard cock slip out of his ass. Lube has made a mess around the base, and Wade's balls look ready to go.
Logan copies a move he learned from Wade’s weekly yoga sessions; slides his knees back and leans his head down to where Wade needs him. His back arches invitingly so Wade places a hand on his lower back possessively.
“In your mouth again? You can have it, puppy.”
Wade curses and wills his hips not to buck up into Logan's throat straight away. His mouth is pure heaven - merc with the mouth is king at eating out, but the wolverine deep throats like a fucking champ. “You want me to come in your mouth or on your face? Cause it's not gonna take long, shit.”
Logan pulls off with a gasp, and blinks up at him. “Mouth.” He swallows Wade down again, relaxes his throat and inhales the musky scent he craves. He feels the dick on his tongue pulsing, sucks harder, then looks at Wade through his eyelashes. Wade can see the moonlight reflected in those pretty eyes, and that's all it takes for him to come.
Wade watches with wild eyes as Logan pulls off his cock, and doesn't swallow. Logan holds the load in his stupidly talented mouth, then pushes Wade onto his back with an “oof!”
Ohmygod.
Logan sticks his tongue out, letting Wade's come slowly drip onto the mess already on Wade's abdomen. It's indecent, filthy, fucking hot.
Just when Wade thinks his mind is already blown out of his balls, Logan slicks a finger through the sticky mess. He seems to be massaging and mixing their releases together on his skin. Logistically this is going to need to be cleaned off before it gets tacky and begins to irritate Wade's skin (that’s why he brought the wipes) but at the moment he understands Logan's fascination. Some wolvie claiming need, mixing their scents together and then oh - he's licking it up now.
That's it, mind gone, goodbye.
-
Sometime around 2AM the pair of them had drifted off to sleep under the stars, wrapped in the blanket. Wade had also packed a clean hoodie and sweatpants, so it wasn't cold - especially with the body heat of his big cuddly man beside him. Thinking ahead pays off.
They had properly worn each other out. Wade had suggested trying to beat their joint orgasm record but Logan begged for mercy about round four. Probably for the best, they ran out of refreshments anyway. More snacks next time.
The sun rose around seven, the gradually brightening rays feathering over their faces. Wade blinked awake at the light difference, and rolled over into Logan's embrace.
“Are you awake?” He mumbled into his lovely strong chest. Logan just hummed, then kissed Wade's cotton covered head. “I'm thinking we go get breakfast. Pancakes, eggs 'n' bacon, maybe french toast?”
Logan looked down at him fondly, Wade's eyes were still half closed. His stomach usually woke up before the rest of him (well not that part).
“The diner outside of town then? You like their pancakes. Coffee's not bad. They would have opened an hour ago.”
“You read my mind, peanut.”
“Please god, never let me develop a telepathic ability. Last thing I need is knowing what is going on in your head all the time.”
“Hey!” Wade swats his arm, but laughs. “Yeah you couldn't handle it, sugartits, your ego would get too big to fit through our front door.”
-
They do go to the diner and enjoy a large breakfast in a booth by the window. Refuel, reset. Just another boring couple drinking coffee, discussing home improvements and what the work week ahead looks like.
Chaste hand holding. Domestic life.
There's more than one side to every marriage.