Chapter Text
Logan’s jaw tightened the moment he heard Max’s voice through the door. His expression flickered, something sharp and unreadable flashing across his face. He straightened his posture, adjusting the slightly too-tight waistband of the boxers he’d borrowed from Wade’s wardrobe.
Wade stared at the door, his chest tightening at the sound of Max’s voice. His hands quickly clutched to the blanket to pull it over himself.
“Guess your - whatever he is to you, came to see you.” Logan muttered, his voice low, rough, and tinged with something unspoken. His eyes briefly met Wade’s before he turned toward the door, standing still for a moment as if weighing his options.
The knock came again, more insistent this time, followed by Max’s worried voice. “Wade, c’mon. Are you okay? Just open up for a second.”
( Oh great, just what we needed. Maybe I can tell Max I’m in the middle of a... personal emergency? Oh, wait, that’s not gonna work, is it? )
[ You need to deal with this, Wade. ]
Logan exhaled sharply through his nose and crossed the room, his steps deliberate. “You want me to handle this?” He asked Wade without looking back, his tone calm but carrying the faintest edge of irritation. Despite his neutral words, the way his shoulders tensed betrayed the fact that Logan wasn’t entirely thrilled about Max showing up, especially now.
Wade glanced over at Logan, his expression torn. The man was still standing by the door, his posture tense, his muscles coiled like a spring. Wade could feel the raw tension radiating off of him, the jealousy, the uncertainty.
Reaching the door, Logan stopped just short of opening it, glancing over his shoulder at Wade one more time as if waiting for a signal.
( God, why do I feel like a damn middle schooler caught between two crushes? So much for being the badass antihero. )
[ If you want anything with Logan, you need to make a choice. You can't have both. ]
Wade bit his lip, staring at the door again. The knock echoed in his mind, louder now, relentless, like it was demanding an answer that he wasn’t sure he could give.
“What’s it gonna be, bub?” Logan asked, his voice quieter now, but still carrying that steady, unyielding presence that was so distinctly him.
( What do I do, what do I do? )
Sighing deeply, Wade finally stood up, walking slowly toward the door after he quickly slipped into a pair of boxers. Each step felt heavier than the last. He placed his hand on the door, glancing back at Logan, his gaze softening despite the knot in his throat. His voice was steady, though the hesitation was obvious.
“I... I gotta handle this, Logan. You’ve gotta let me deal with this.”
Logan let out a low, unintelligible mumble under his breath, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked briefly to Wade. He didn’t say anything more, just turned on his feet and headed toward the kitchen. He yanked open one of the cabinets with more force than necessary, eyes scanning for anything that might resemble a bottle of whiskey or even cheap beer — his hands hovered for a moment before grabbing a half-empty bottle and a glass.
( This is gonna hurt like hell. You know it. But it’s gotta be done. )
Turning his attention back to the door, Wade braced himself and opened it, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at Max standing on the other side.
Max stood there with a sheepish, almost nervous smile. In his hands, he held a small bouquet of flowers and a chocolate bar. He shifted his weight nervously as his gaze immediately darted over Wade, his brow furrowing with concern.
Logan let out a low, unintelligible mumble under his breath, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked briefly to Wade. He didn’t say anything more, just turned on his feet and headed toward the kitchen.
His movements were careful, almost too quiet for a man of his size. He yanked open one of the cabinets with more force than necessary, eyes scanning for anything that might resemble a bottle of whiskey or even cheap beer — his hands hovered for a moment before grabbing a half-empty bottle and a glass.
“Hey.” Max said softly, his voice warm but cautious.
“Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you.” He hesitated, shifting the bouquet nervously between his hands.
“You just… left, and I didn’t hear from you after. No texts, no calls. Nothing. I—I didn’t know if you were alright.” Max offered the bouquet and the chocolate to Wade, his smile faltering slightly as he added, “I just wanted to check in, you know? Make sure you’re okay. You didn’t seem like yourself when you left.”
Wade blinked down at the bouquet and chocolate, his throat tightening at the sight of Max standing there, so earnest and nervous. His fingers twitched slightly, but he didn’t reach for the gifts. Instead, he let out a quiet, shaky breath, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Logan rolled his eyes as he listened and with intentional exaggeration, he silently moved his lips, mimicking Max’s words in an overly dramatic, mock-sincere way. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem like yourself.” Logan mouthed, dragging the words out without actually speaking, his face twisting into a mockery of Max’s concerned expression. He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the interaction unfold from the corner of his eye.
“Wow, uh… flowers and chocolate,” Wade said, his voice rougher than he intended. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “You’re sweet, you know that?” He tried to smile again, but it felt weak. Fake. Like a mask he’d put on too many times before.
( I’m in over my head. I’m going to ruin everything, aren’t I? )
“Listen I didn't mean to leave you hanging. But I had to handle something, uh someone.” Wade swallowed, feeling like his throat had closed up as he said the words. He wasn’t sure if they were enough, or if they ever would be.
[ You can fix this. You’re better than this. Don’t let fear screw you over. ]
Wade shifted his weight, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. “It’s just... complicated,” he finished quietly, feeling the sting of the truth cut through him like a knife.
( Damn it, Wade, this is so much worse than you thought. )
Max’s smile faltered, the warmth in his expression dimming as his hand holding the bouquet and chocolate dropped to his side — a flicker of hurt crossing his face as he suddenly felt unsure of himself. He took a small, hesitant step closer, his voice soft and careful, like he was trying not to push Wade too hard.
“Did I do something?” Max asked quietly, his tone filled with genuine concern. “If I did, just… tell me, alright?” His eyes searched Wade’s face, trying to piece together the truth that Wade wasn’t saying.
“I’m sorry if the question about making things official was a too big of a step forward. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”
After a pause, Max glanced at the open doorway, then back at Wade. “You want to talk about it?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, if you don’t, that’s okay too, but… you seem like you’re carrying something heavy. Mind if I come in?” His free hand hovered slightly, unsure whether to reach out or keep his distance.
Max hesitated, his uncertainty evident in the way his fingers fidgeted slightly against the bouquet. He glanced at Wade’s face, the concern in his expression deepening as he studied the tension there. Finally, as if deciding he couldn’t just stand there, he carefully reached out, his movements slow as he gently took Wade’s hand in his own — offering a small, tender smile, one that carried no judgment, only quiet patience.
“Whenever you’re ready.” Max said, his tone steady and reassuring ”I’m here.”
Max’s patience cut through him like a blade. It was the kind of tenderness Wade didn’t think he deserved, the kind that made his chest ache in ways he couldn’t quite name. There was just Max, standing there with his heart on his sleeve and a softness Wade didn’t know how to handle.
( Man, this guy must be a saint. Or maybe just a sucker for punishment. )
Wade pulled his hand away gently, the motion slow, like he didn’t want to break whatever fragile thing hung between them.
“Max…” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? If anything, you’ve been… too good. Like, annoyingly perfect, you know? And that’s the problem.”
Wade laughed bitterly, his hands gesturing wildly as he tried to make light of his own mess.
( Great job, Wade. Really selling yourself here. )
“And I can’t... I can’t give you an answer about us because I don’t even know what I’m doing with myself. Then there’s…” He faltered. Wade’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper.
“Then there’s him.”
Max’s brows furrowed as Wade’s words hung in the air, his soft expression giving way to visible confusion. His eyes wandered past Wade and into the apartment, scanning the dimly lit space until they landed on Logan.
“Him?” Max asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and heartbreak. His gaze flicked back to Wade, as if needing confirmation he’d heard correctly.
His expression hardened just slightly, a flash of something close to anger breaking through. “After everything he’s done?!”
Wade’s heart dropped as Max’s confusion turned to disbelief, then to something more raw and jagged. He could almost see the exact moment Max pieced it all together, and it made his chest feel like it was caving in.
"Max, wait—" Wade started, his voice laced with desperation, but Max’s eyes were already darting between him and Logan.
“Is that… is that my pyjamas?” Max asked, his voice cracking, edged with barely restrained irritation.
Logan, who had been minding his own business, or pretending to — finally turned his attention to them, a slow, deliberate movement. He leaned one elbow against the counter, holding his drink lazily in the other hand. His sharp eyes glinted with amusement as he took in Max’s expression. With a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Logan raised his free hand in a small, almost mocking wave, his fingers wiggling slightly.
“Bo bo boo.” Logan said in a teasing tone, the words coming out like a lazy taunt as he lifted his glass for another slow sip.
"Oh, uh... yeah, about those…" Wade tried, forcing a weak laugh that didn’t even convince himself.
[ You need to fix this. Right now. ]
Wade stepped forward, his hands raised slightly as if trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling further. "Look, it’s not what it looks like. I mean, it’s kind of what it looks like, but not exactly."
“Wade…” Max started, his breath hitching before he continued, “If I hadn’t come here… if I hadn’t just… stumbled onto this — would you have told me? Would you have ever told me about… him?” His voice cracked slightly and he gestured faintly toward Logan, his tone filled with both confusion and hurt.
( Oh, yeah, that cleared everything right up. Gold star for you, Wade. )
[ Stop. Rambling. ]
Max quickly turned his head to the side, clearing his throat as he blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. When he looked back at Wade, his voice was uneven, shaking slightly as he forced the words out.
Wade swallowed hard, his throat dry as he forced the words out. "Max, I— Logan’s… he’s my—" Wade stuttered, glancing toward Logan for a split second, then back to Max.
"He’s complicated, okay? And, yeah, he’s here because he needed help, and I couldn’t just… leave him on the streets." He ran a hand over his face, his frustration with himself evident.
"But this? Him? Us? Whatever this looks like—it’s not what you think. I swear."
The sharp sound of a glass being set down harshly cut through the room. Logan’s piercing gaze moved between them, the tension in his posture sharp and unmistakable. The words Wade had just spoken —’It’s not what you think.’ echoed in Logan’s head like a drumbeat, growing louder and harsher with every passing second.
“It’s not what it looks like?” Logan’s voice was rough, angry and carried an edge that could cut steel. His lips twisted into a humorless smirk, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes betrayed the hurt building beneath the surface. He took a slow step away from the counter, his broad shoulders squared, his gaze fixed firmly on Wade now.
“And what does it look like, Wade?” Logan growled, his voice sharp and biting as his jaw tightened, his hands curling slightly into fists at his sides.
”Enlighten me.”
Wade felt the walls closing in, Max’s trembling voice hitting him like a gut punch while Logan’s sharp growl sliced through the air. His gaze darted to Max first, taking in the hurt etched into his features.
He was cornered, the two men he cared about staring him down, waiting for answers he didn’t know how to give.
( Well, ain’t this a pretty little mess? We’re one awkward laugh away from a soap opera, folks! )
“What does it look like?” Wade echoed bitterly, his voice rising just enough to match Logan’s tone.
“It looks like exactly what it is, Logan. You showed up here, out of nowhere, needing me to fix whatever mess you got yourself into. And like the idiot I am, I dropped everything, including him—” Wade jabbed a thumb toward Max without looking at him, “to make sure you didn’t wind up bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.”
[ Stop, Wade... ]
His voice shook with anger that had been simmering beneath the surface.
“And you—” Wade’s eyes snapped to Max, his words tumbling out before he could stop them, “you want to talk about labels? About making this ‘official’? I can’t even label myself, Max! I don’t know what the hell I am or who I’m supposed to be half the time.”
Wade knew he should stop, should backtrack, but something raw and jagged inside him wouldn’t let him.
“You want the truth? Fine. Here it is.” Wade gestured wildly between Logan and Max.
“You both think you know me, but you don’t. Not really. Max, you think I’m this guy who can just sweep you off your feet and make everything simple, but I’m not that guy. I’ve got too much baggage, and most of it? It’s standing right there.” He pointed sharply at Logan, his voice cracking.
“And Logan, you—” Wade turned, his frustration bleeding through every word, “you think you can just waltz in here, break me into a million pieces, and I’ll be fine because, you kiss me and tell me sweet things like nothing ever happened. Newsflash, peanut: I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine in years.” He stopped, chest heaving, the weight of his words settling around them like a storm.
Wade’s eyes darted between Max’s devastated face and Logan’s unreadable but tense expression.
“So there it is,” Wade muttered, his voice quieter now, laced with exhaustion. “That’s the mess you both signed up for. Hope you’re happy with what you found.”
The room fell into a suffocating silence, and Wade felt the sting of his own words too late, realizing he’d gone too far in trying to make them understand
“Wade…” Max began, his throat tight but his words clear. “You don’t scare me with your baggage. You think I haven’t seen it? Felt it? I know it’s there. And I don’t care.”
“Because I can take it. I want to take it. You know why? — because I love you. All of it—mess and all. You don’t have to be perfect for me. Just be you.” Max’s eyes held a mixture of pain and love, his expression pleading with Wade to understand.
Logan’s expression, meanwhile, was a storm of emotions breaking through his usually stoic face. For every word Wade said, another crack formed in his maintained mask. His mouth opened slightly, as if searching for a defence, but nothing came.
“So that’s it, huh?” Logan muttered, his tone low but pointed as his gaze flicked back to Wade. “You wanna stand there and tell me I’m the reason you’re in pieces? That it’s all on me?”
He paused, his lips pressing into a thin line before continuing, his words steady but raw. “You think I show up just to screw with your life? You think I’m proud of needing you? Of you being the one I call when everything’s gone to hell?”
Logan’s eyes flicked briefly to Max, then back to Wade. “You think I’m proud knowing you’re the only person I haven’t managed to scare off yet?” He shook his head, letting out a sharp, humorless snort as his shoulders tightened.
“You think I like this? Hurting you? Dragging you down every time I can’t keep my own crap together? I hate it, Wade. I hate knowing I’m the guy who crashes into your life like a goddamn wrecking ball.” His voice softened slightly, a note of sadness slipping through as he looked down at the ground, shaking his head.
“But don’t stand there actin’ like you didn’t have a say. As if I made you drop everything. Could’ve told me to piss off. You didn’t.”
With that, Logan fell silent, his rough exterior cracking just enough to let the pain he felt show.
Wade stood there, caught between the weight of their words and the chaos in his own mind. His gaze flicked between Max and Logan, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. For once, he didn’t know what to say.
( Oh, fantastic! Two guys, one heart, and you’re over here juggling them like flaming chainsaws. Great job, champ. )
Finally, Wade exhaled shakily as he tried to gather himself. “I didn’t stop you, Logan, because… hell, I never want to stop you. No matter how much of a mess you bring, no matter how much it screws me up… I’ll always pick up, I’ll always come running. Because it’s you.”
( Aww, how sweet. Let’s just carve his name into our heart while we’re at it. That won’t backfire at all. )
Wade glanced up, his gaze meeting Logan’s, and for a moment, the honesty in Wade’s eyes was almost unbearable. “You don’t scare me. Not the claws, not the anger, not the chaos. What scares me is knowing I’d let you break me a thousand times just to keep you in my life.”
Wade’s voice cracked, but he pushed on, turning toward Max now, his expression filled with guilt.
“And you, Max… you’re right here. You show up with flowers and chocolate, ready to stand by me no matter how messed up I am. And I want to give you what you deserve—God, I do—but I can’t. Not when there’s this…” He gestured helplessly between himself and Logan, his voice trailing off.
[ That’s gonna sting. Be careful how you end this. ]
Wade’s voice faltered, and he gave a weak, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just the guy with too many voices in his head and not enough sense to shut them up. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing anymore.”
Max’s shoulders sagged slightly, his hands trembling as he bent down, carefully setting the bouquet and chocolate on the floor. He lingered there for a second, almost like he was gathering his strength, before straightening and locking eyes with Wade.
“I’ll wait for you.” Max said simply, his gaze flicked toward Logan for a second, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “Just… don’t let this… animal break you any further.”
Logan’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing dangerously as the insult hit. In one quick, fluid motion, the unmistakable sound of his claws slicing out filled the room, a metallic snikt cutting through the tension. His hand hung at his side, the claws glinting under the dim light, and a low, gruff growl rumbled from his chest.
Logan slid the claws back in, the sound almost as harsh as his glare. “You’re lucky he’s here.” Logan muttered, his voice low and full of warning as grabbed his pack of cigarettes off the counter with one swift motion. Without another glance at either of them, Logan yanked open the balcony door and stepped outside, letting it slide shut behind him with just enough force to make his frustration clear.
( Cue the violins, maestro. Or maybe a full-blown marching band for the mess we’ve made. )
Wade sighed, his shoulders slumping as he met Max’s gaze. “Look, Max… I’m sorry. You didn’t sign up for this. For him. For me. For whatever the hell this is.” He gestured vaguely between himself and the door Logan had disappeared through, his voice quieter now.
“You’re a good guy. Hell, you’re a great guy. You deserve someone who can give you the kind of love you deserve.” Wade hesitated, his throat tightening as he forced the words out. “And I don’t think I’m that guy.”
“Thanks for… everything,” Wade said, his voice carrying more sincerity than he usually let slip. He glanced at the bouquet and chocolate on the floor, then back at Max, offering a faint, apologetic smile.
“I mean it.” Then, without another word, he turned and closed the door, not daring to face Max a second longer.
[ You know this isn’t going to be easy, right? ]
( Easy? Nah. But when have we ever taken the easy road? )
Wade crossed the room and opened the door, stepping out into the cool morning air. Wade hesitated for a moment, then shut the door behind him with a quiet click.
“Mind some company, or you want me to take the hint and jump off this metaphorical roller coaster?”
Logan glanced over at Wade, his sharp gaze softening, and with a quiet breath, he pulled a cigarette from the pack, holding it out for Wade between two fingers.
“Was hopin’ you would join.” he said, the faintest hint of something warmer slipping through his tone.
Wade accepted the cigarette without a word at first, placing it between his lips. He leaned in toward Logan, letting the flame from Logan’s lighter ignite the tip. Taking a slow drag, he exhaled the smoke into the cool air, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Look, I get it. You’re right.” Logan muttered, his voice low and rough, but there was no bite to it.
“I hurt you more than anything else, but I ain’t blind to it. Never was.” His fingers fidgeted with his lighter as he looked out over the balcony, his jaw tight.
“If you want me to go… to my own place, or just outta your sight, I’d get it. I would. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down, Wade. Hell, you deserve better than anything I got to offer.”
He took a slow drag, his eyes briefly meeting Wade’s. “But I’m still here, for whatever that’s worth. Probably not much.”
For a few beats, Wade didn’t speak, the quiet settling between them like a fragile truce. Then, with a faint smirk, he broke the silence.
“Y’know, for a guy who can bench-press a car and survive getting skewered on the regular, you sure do a good impression of Eeyore.” Wade gestured vaguely with his cigarette, his voice teasing but lacking its usual sharpness.
“All this ‘I’m no good for you, Wade’ stuff… it’s like you’re trying to write me a sad breakup song, but you forgot the part where we’re not even dating.”
Logan stayed quiet for a moment, the cigarette rolling between his fingers as he shifted slightly, closing the space between them until their shoulders brushed. Slowly, he turned, his sharp eyes locking onto Wade’s, the weight of his gaze heavy but not harsh — steady and unreadable.
Wade took another drag, tilting his head as he studied Logan’s profile.
“Look, I’m not gonna stand here and act like you’re not a walking disaster, because, newsflash, you are. But so am I. Hell, between the two of us, we could start a support group for emotionally constipated murder machines.”
( Catchy name. Needs a logo. Maybe matching jackets? )
Wade’s smirk softened, and his tone shifted, quieter now but steady. “But here’s the thing, Logan—you’re still here. And yeah, maybe that’s not a lot, but it’s enough for me. So no, I don’t want you to go. Not to your place, not out of my sight. If I wanted that, you’d already be gone.”
“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Logan's voice was low and gravelly, rough around the edges but carrying the faintest trace of something lighter beneath it. There was no sharpness, no anger, just Logan’s brand of honesty—blunt but unfiltered.
He didn’t look away, his gaze lingering on Wade, unwavering and unflinching — like there was more he could say, maybe more he wanted to say, but the words didn’t come.
Wade took a shaky breath, leaning ever so closer to Logan again.
“You’re it for me, Loges. Mess and all.” He reached up, hesitating for just a second, then gently rested his hand on Logan’s cheek, his thumb brushing against the rough stubble. His grin returned, small but warm.
“So yeah, I’ll take being your pain in the ass. As long as I get to be yours and no one else’s.”
( Oh, God. That was so sappy. He’s totally gonna— )
"Okay." It was the only thing Logan said back, a smirk tugging at his lips.
After hearing those words Wade leaned in for a soft kiss as Logan wrapped his big arms around Wade's waist. It was peaceful, it was gentle. It was everything Wade had ever wanted.