Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 For much of his life, Wade was a mercenary. Mercenaries… well, they kill for money, and Wade has always been very good at what he does. In a reality like this, words like 'empathy,' 'mercy,' or 'forgiveness' don't exist. 

It's the law of the jungle. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. 

Okay, that sounds a bit morbid, but that’s basically it. Wade seems to hear someone else saying this. Yes, that friend of ours who has a skull on his chest and has never smiled a single day in his life.

The thing is, Wade, despite being damn good at his line of work, has a soft heart. Colossus says he’s proud of the kindness Wade has in his heart and that he always knew he was a good person, and blah blah blah. 

It's just a bunch of nonsense to convince him to join the X-Men, and Wade has already said it won't work, no matter how much Colossus tries.

The problem is that sometimes Wade forgets that in his dictionary, 'mercy' shouldn't exist, and well… sometimes life comes to collect the price of his mistakes when he least expects it. 

Damn, just a few months ago he was saving the whole damn universe. (Multiverse? Wade's memory is terrible, especially for technical terms. He needs to ask some nerd about it, like our furry blue friend Hank McCoy.)

Now Wade is standing before none other than Angel Dust, our brutish henchwoman of Francis, who's very much wanting to kill him. 

What's up with these people who remain loyal to their bosses even after they're dead, anyway?

Is this some sort of capitalist brainwashing where subordinates are coerced into buying into their bosses' ideas and willingly wear a "sucker" stamp on their foreheads? 

It doesn't fucking matter. 

What matters is that Angel is there, trying to beat the shit out of Wade, and Wade can't even call Logan for a little backup because, surprise, Wade said he could handle it alone.

Well, that was before knowing that the female version of Conor McGregor (maybe with less shit-talking) is there with the bunch of scum Wade is supposed to defeat (kill, but let's keep that little detail between us).

The worst part?

He's not even getting paid for this.

He's there because of fucking course Colossus is kind of right. He is a good person deep inside, and Wade's big heart won't let him leave a bunch of women and children serve as test subjects in a lab like he once willingly did.

Life is made of bad choices, isn't it?

So Wade, having his head bashed in by Angel's fists and not having an inch to move (she's too fucking strong!), can only joke and wait until she gets tired of hitting him.

Or for his healing factor to regenerate him again, which should happen in about a twenty seconds, if everything goes according to plan, or a minute if he's lucky.

"Come on, honey, it's not you, it's me! I promise you'll find a nice man to marry soon. We just aren't working out, you understand me, right? Don't take it personally."

Angel doesn't seem very happy about the situation. She kicks him, and the air comes out of Wade's lungs.

"Ouch!" he whines, but it's hard to speak when a rib is broken and pressing against your lungs. "Come on, honey! I know you don't want to hurt me. You're a good girl, Colossus had faith in you. You have to follow his example, Angel. You can be a better woman! We're all here for you. It's your moment of truth, a time to shine. A second chance!"

Wade can feel the bones in his face slowly mending.

"Why don't you ask your friend Wolverine for help?" Angel asks, frowning.

Wade laughs, his nose broken and bleeding, and coughs up blood.

"I am a very, very possessive man. And Logan is my man. I don't share him with anyone. Especially with you. No offense, sweetheart. But your boyfriend is dead and we have a good thing going, so please leave the country. Thank you."

Wade is an idiot. He knows this.

That doesn't stop him from laughing hysterically when Angel, in her rage, breaks another of his ribs and hits him hard enough that he almost loses consciousness.

Well, Logan looked sexier beating the shit out of Wade.

Logan's sexy as hell.

And Wade's an idiot, so of course, he says it out loud, not being able to keep his mouth shut even when he feels several bones breaking and the taste of blood on his tongue.

"That the best you can do? Honestly, the feeling of Logan's steak knives tearing through my ass was a million times more pleasurable. You're losing your touch, baby girl."

Wade's an idiot, and his brain to mouth filter is broken.

That is, until there's a needle piercing his skin and injecting something into his bloodstream.

It's always a needle, isn't it?

Always, every damn time.

Isn't this playing a bit too much on the trope of villains injecting heroes with unknown substances, only to be defeated later?

Wade, in the midst of his drug-induced pain, manages to smile.

"A needle? Really? Isn't that a little too cliché? Even for you."

"You know, Wilson. Ajax wasn't lying when he said he couldn't fix you." Angel says, her lips stretched into a small smile. "But these experiments have been going really well, and now, well... we can at least take your mutation. It's not the same as what Ajax wanted, but it'll do."

"What?" Wade manages to say. "You're the last man standing—woman—standing and you still want to sound menacing? Is that supposed to be scary? Because I assure you it isn't. You're more of a joke than me, and that's a huge feat. Congratulations, honey."

Yeah, it's a joke, and Wade knows that. He knows that because he can feel it—the cancer eating him away, killing him from the inside. 

His skin is tingling inside his suit, and the scars are starting to itch.

He wants to scratch himself, but there are more important things to do.

Like not die, for example.

And use this perfect opportunity to use his fucking hidden baby knife to stab the woman in the stomach, twist it, and then get up while laughing hysterically, because, yes, that's what a (very) sane person would do.

"How does it feel, baby girl? How does it feel?" Wade asks, smiling widely and holding the woman's chin, his thumb tracing the outline of her jaw. 

He watches as her guts fall onto the floor.

"It hurts, doesn't it? It burns like hell. I know. I've been there." Wade smiles behind his mask. "Unfortunately for you, there's no healing factor, so you're going to die in a lot of pain. How sad."

"Wilson—"

"You'll bleed out and die," Wade interrupts. "Any last words? No? I didn't think so."

"You're going to pay."

"Oh, honey. You're not even the first one to tell me that. It's getting old, to be honest. Can you give me some creativity, maybe? Or is that too much to ask? It is, isn't it? Damn."

Wade rolls his eyes when Angel's body falls limp to the ground, her eyes lifeless.

"Another person who leaves me talking to myself," Wade laments, shaking his head. A wave of nausea washes over him, and he can barely contain the urge to expel whatever is still in his stomach from breakfast this morning. 

It's a shame, because Logan made pancakes and scrambled eggs for Wade this morning, damn it. How dare his body reject the food that Logan prepared with so much love and care? 

(This is Wade's delusion, and he knows it. His roommate just woke up before him and made breakfast. It's called coexistence, no matter what his crush on Logan tries to imagine.) 

Breathing suddenly becomes difficult, and he removes his mask in an attempt to draw air more easily into his lungs. 

What a terrible idea that was because his face is reflected in one of his fallen swords on the ground, and holy shit, who is that guy reflected in the blade?

"I've seen him before. Has anyone ever seen him?" Wade asks no one. "Who is he?"

He touches his own face, and fuck. He doesn't feel the scars on his skin. 

(He's going to cry, and the world is not ready for a crying Deadpool. Nobody is ready for a crying Deadpool.)

"This isn't good," he murmurs.

He closes his eyes, trying to control his breathing.

He can't have an anxiety attack right now, damn it.

He's not going to die. He's not going to die. He's not going to die.

There is nothing wrong with him. Everything is fine.

(It's not. Oh, it's not.

But denial is a river in Egypt, isn't it?)

When the nausea and dizziness passes and the world stops spinning, Wade sighs.

So, Angel really wasn't lying when she said they'd be able to take his mutation, and fuck, it sucks.

Not entirely because well, it feels good to have a smooth, healthy, normal skin for the first time in forever.

Wade is going to ignore the fact that it's only a temporary relief. For the moment, anyway.

It sucks because now, his mutation is gone, which means he can no longer heal and regenerate, and that, yeah, is a problem.

It's a problem because the cancer is back and eating him alive, and now his healing factor is gone and Wade is going to die. He doesn't know when, but he's sure he will.

It's the fucking irony of his life.

He finally gets rid of his scars, and in return, he dies.

Another irony is that, time and again, Wade wished this mutation would just disappear. Because of it, a lot of crap has happened in his life. And well, when a person is depressed and sees no way out, there's often only one path to take, right? The great beyond, the rainbow bridge, paradise (or in Wade's case, hell).

Wade thought about and wished for that. Many times, and life has been so terrible for him that he couldn’t even manage that. 

Now, it's just a matter of time. 

And it sucks because this mutation, despite having physically (or aesthetically) messed Wade up, also brought many good things. Good moments, good friends, good laughs. 

(Some tears too, but hey, that's part of it.) 

It brought Logan, who would have sliced him up a long time ago if it weren't for the convenient healing factor (a mutual healing factor, in this case). 

The healing factor allowed Wade to survive Wolverine's claws, through the entire multiversal adventure to the point where now, Logan doesn't try to kill him every hour. 

It still happens, but Wade can clearly say there's not true murderous intent when Logan occasionally stabs him.

Wade has lived enough to experience domestic days (sort of) with Wolverine—of all people—and well… you can imagine how that turned out. 

No, they're not fucking. Or dating. Not for lack of desire on Wade's part, but… it just hasn't happened, okay? Not yet.

And probably, it won't. 

The ticking noise is right next to Wade's ear, mocking the irony of it all. Yes, it's the clock counting down the time he has left in the land of the living.

It's funny how this sounds a bit like a cheesy, dramatic, sad movie with the protagonist dying of a terminal illness, and in the end, everyone cries because, "I didn't get to do this, I didn't get to do that, I didn't get to say that," and other stuff like that.

It's hilarious and pathetic at the same time.

It kind of suits Wade.

Hilarious because it is, and pathetic because his life is just that: a tragicomedy of errors.

Wade can't believe the situation.

"Well, shit."

He feels like shit, but there are tons of people still inside the warehouse, waiting for rescue, and Wade's a nice guy, so he can't just let them stay locked up, right?

But he know his own limitations. The cancer will not allow him to do the hero thing.

At least for a while. So, he calls Colossus, because technically it's his fault that Wade is dying.

Wade knows that because:

A) Colossus didn't kill Angel Dust when he had the chance and

B) he was the one who shoved this shitty mission into Wade's hands.

And if Wade is going to die, well, at least he'll do it peacefully, not having to worry about saving anyone.

Colossus has to compensate for it, and what better way than saving people?

It's the least he can do.

And, of course, Wade doesn't mention his healing factor and the whole cancer situation either. Gladly, his uniform hideshis face.

Wade doesn't think he can handle seeing Colossus' face full of pity.

Because yeah, there's nothing Wade hates more than pity.

Besides, Wade will have a good time until his cancer takes him away, right?

Which is why, as soon as he gets home, he goes straight to his room, grabs a pen and a notebook, and sits on his bed, crossing his legs and placing the notebook on top of them.

Wade has a list, and that list is none other than:

**A BUCKET LIST OF WISHES AND THINGS TO DO BEFORE I DIE**

Yes, the capital letters are necessary.

Because it's an important list.

An important list of important things.

(That he should have written long ago.)

And well, now is as good a time as any, right?

1. Eat as much chimichangas as I want, no matter the calories.

2. Watch the best movies of all time, in sequel: Ghostbusters, Star Wars, Terminator, Back to the Future and of fucking course, all Harry Potter films.

3. Take a hot bubble bath and enjoy it.

4. Learn the art of calligraphy and write my name.

5. Buy the entire Hello Kitty collection.

6. Get a tattoo, a cool one.

7. Try sex toys. (New toys, duh)

8. Make a cake with strawberry icing and decorate it with sprinkles.

9. Have a picnic.

Well, Wade probably doesn't have much time left, so he'll have to make it attainable.

The point is, there are a lot of things he hasn't done, and now he wishes he had. And well, this is probably the irony of life. The time always seems short when you have to leave.

If he had a little bit more time, he would have learned how to knit and made himself a nice blanket.

He would've gone to space and met the Guardians of the Galaxy. He would have been a part of their team, and Peter Quill would have fallen in love with him. They would have had an amazing, passionate love story, and then, Quill would've married Wade, and they would have adopted a dog and raised it together. Rocket would be pissed off because the dog would hate him, but the rest of the Guardians would be happy.

(Maybe that's too much. Let's keep the imagination simple.)

Anyway, the point is that, yeah, Wade doesn't have much time left.

It's strange how it makes sense, even though Wade is a mess. But then again, what else is new?

10. Tell Vanessa I am sorry, and that she is an amazing woman and I took her love for granted.

11. Tell Colossus he's an idiot, and thank him.

12. Tell Weasel that he's a dick, but a good friend and he will need to take care of Dopinder.

13. Tell Logan...

Wade stops writing, the pen falling from his hand.

There are a lot of things he'd like to say to Logan, and there are also a lot of things he knows shouldn't say.

Because yes, he might have... feelings for Logan, and not just fuckery feelings. It's not a brotherly type either, even though he cares about him. 

Okay, he has romantic feelings for Logan, but he understands that some things simply should remain unsaid. He may have a big mouth—one without any filter—but even Wade isn't stupid enough to mess up something that’s good as it is. 

Wade can be the king of ruining perfectly good situations, but at least this time, he prefers not to. He can handle rejection and unrequited love, but he also prefers to save himself the trouble, you know? 

To spare those moments when he would feel hurt for being rejected by Logan, even though he already knows what the answer will be. 

It's okay, though.

Wade is going to die anyway, so he's not going to put this kind of pressure on Logan on his final days.

So, yeah.

Logan can't know.

The important thing is to enjoy what he has while he has it. 

So, he scratches the last item off his list, and rewrites it.

13. Try to kiss Logan, even if it's on the cheek.

Because, hey, you never know.

And Wade knows that his heart is going to break when he does, but well...

14. Don't forget to laugh at my own misery.

Wade is a mess, and he has a bucket list.

His life is a tragicomedy of errors.

The only way he can enjoy it is by making the most of it.

As soon as he closes the notebook, he smiles sadly and removes his uniform. He avoids looking at himself in the mirror and throws his dirty clothes into the basket.

He fills the bathtub with warm water and opens the bathroom cabinet.

He grabs a bottle of lavender-scented bath salts and pours a generous amount into the tub. He turns off the tap and steps into the bathtub.

Wade sighs when his body is surrounded by hot water and closes his eyes, trying not to think about anything other than the nice feeling of the water relaxing his tense muscles.

When he feels he's ready, he dips his head under the water. He doesn't move, and for a moment, he allows himself to imagine how his death would feel like.

Probably painful? He doesn't know. It's not like he has a firsthand experience. He kind of wishes it happened during sleep though. Then again, who doesn't? It's a very fucked up thing to imagine so yeah, this is totally Wade's brain at work.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opens, and Wade quickly emerges from the water, gasping for air.

Logan is staring at him, frowning.

"What?" Wade asks.

"What happened to you?" Logan demands.

"Well, this is a very, very loose question, sweetheart," Wade replies. "Care to elaborate or do you want to hear a list of all the things that have happened to me in my life?"

"Stop joking, Wade. What happened to your scars?" Logan says, taking a step closer and crouching in front of the tub.

Wade looks away. "Oh, those. Yeah, it's a new treatment, and it's working. So, don't worry. I'm fine, so you can stop asking questions. And you can leave. I'm about to enjoy the water, and you can't see what's underneath. Sorry, but those are not for your eyes."

Wade looks back at Logan and smirks, pointing to his lower parts.

"Don't lie to me. You still had them when you left this morning. You know what I mean, Wade. Now, tell me, what the fuck is going on? You look like… that variant of yours we met before, Nicepool or some shit like that."

"Nah, my face doesn't look that smooth. But if you're saying I look like him, I kinda look nice? Like, I finally look nice. Good for you huh? Now you won't have to deal with ugly ole me anymore, so, thank you for the compliment. I think I'll just change my name from Deadpool to Smoothpool, what do you think? It sounds like a good superhero name, don't you think?"

"Wade," Logan growls.

"Logan," Wade replies, imitating the tone. "You should stop being nosy. Okay, Angel injected something in me and my scars are gone, but it's only temporary, don't worry. Your dear Freddy Krueger friend will be back soon, okay? Now, you can go."

Logan doesn't leave, and instead, he touches Wade's arm, squeezing it tightly.

"It's not temporary, is it?"

Wade tries not to shiver, but fails.

"It's not permanent. Just let it be, Logan," Wade murmurs.

"Fuck, Wade. Your… your healing factor is gone? Is that why you smell so weak and sick?"

Logan's voice sounds so distressed and worried that something breaks in Wade's chest.

Or maybe it's the cancer.

He looks down at his body, and the fact that he can't see his own scars makes him want to throw up.

(Irony of life. Again.)

"Well, thank you for the compliment, but I'll take that as an insult. I do not stink. In fact, I am having a nice bubble bath and you're ruining it. So, please, leave," Wade says, trying to keep his tone calm and joking.

"Why didn't you tell me? Wade, look at me. Why the hell didn't you tell me? What happened to your healing factor? Is it permanent? Why did it happen? Did she do something to it? If she did, I swear I'll kill her," Logan growls, his eyes flashing with so much anger that Wade can't help but shiver.

Logan is a scary motherfucker, and Wade can't stop being impressed, no matter what.

(It's hot as fuck. But well, not now, Wade. Focus on the situation, please.)

"I didn't tell you because it's not important. I mean, the scars are gone, so it's a good thing, right? Now I look a little less ugly, but I won't for long, so it doesn't really matter, you know? It's just a matter of time," Wade shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant.

And the worst part is that it's actually something temporary. The consequence of no longer having the healing factor, however, is not. 

Damn it, Wade is going to miss that expression on Logan's face. Not just that one, but all the others that come with it. Sure, most of them are closed-off, grumpy, and scowling, but damn, Logan’s smile should be one of the seven wonders of the world.

Not even the Colosseum or the Statue of Liberty can compete.

"Wade," Logan whispers. His face is still full of anger, but his eyes…

Those eyes are going to haunt Wade's dreams. Oh, he knows it. They'll be the only ones he'll be able to remember after he's gone. And maybe the last ones, too.

Logan's eyes make something twist inside Wade's stomach and yeah, he cannot lie to him.

Wade takes a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in resignation. "I have cancer, okay? It's terminal and well, I don't have much time. So, let's enjoy what I have, shall we? No pity, no tears, and no regrets, okay? That's my deal. If you can't do that, well, then get the fuck out of here, because I don't need sadness and pity on my last days, okay?"

Wade's voice breaks and his eyes start burning.

He's not going to cry. Nope.

No tears, remember?

"How much time?" Logan asks, his voice barely audible.

"I dunno, sugar. Probably a couple of weeks?" Wade murmurs. "A couple of days? Who knows? Nobody does."

Wade chuckles, and then, he can't stop.

Logan moves away, and the sound of glass breaking makes Wade jump in surprise.

Logan has destroyed the mirror.

"That's the price you paid to get rid of those scars? Fuck, I should have come with you," Logan says.

"Why are you mad, sweetheart? Because of my face? Oh, don't worry. Soon, I won't have a face anymore," Wade says.

(God, Wade, you're such an asshole.)

But Logan… he doesn't growl like he usually would, and he doesn't yell at Wade or calls him a dumbass.

He's just standing there, not moving.

"Hey, it's not a big deal. I don't have much time left, and you don't have to stay. It's okay," Wade says. "It probably won't be pretty or pleasant, you know? I can't guarantee a good time."

It's not a joke. He means it. But he wishes it was a joke. A bad one, of course. A funny one, too. But, yeah.

Logan doesn't have to watch him die. Wade would hate that.

Even if it's tempting to have someone there at the end.

Maybe it's better if it's only Wade and his own thoughts.

Logan doesn't move.

Wade takes a deep breath and starts to get out of the tub. "Okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. Let's forget what I said, okay?Everything is fine. Nothing happened. You can go to bed, and everything will be back to normal. Tomorrow, I'll go out for a walk with Dogpool and—"

When Logan turns around, his face is a mess and Wade gasps.

"Please, Logan. Stop," Wade begs.

(He doesn't want to see Logan like this.)

"I'm sorry, Logan. I just… I can't help it , okay? They took my healing factor away and now, my body is dying and well, there's nothing that can be done." Wade says, trying to laugh but failing miserably.

Logan just stares at him.

"Please, Logan, please. Stop looking like this. It's not your fault. This isn't the first time I've been without my healing factor, so, don't worry, okay? This is not a big deal, alright? You can go, and tomorrow, everything will be back to normal, I promise."

Logan still doesn't move, and that makes Wade feel uneasy.

"Come on, sugar, say something, please," Wade pleads.

Logan closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

"You're dying and you're apologizing for it," Logan says, opening his eyes. "Fuck, Wade. Fuck."

"Sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you," Wade says.

"You're fucking crazy, Wade," Logan says, laughing bitterly. "Crazy."

Wade shrugs, trying to hide his confusion.

(Is this a joke? No, it doesn't sound like one. Well, Logan is probably just pissed off and needs to get it out of his system, so it's okay. Wade can take it. He's used to it.)

"I'm sorry," Wade says.

"Why are you sorry?" Logan demands.

"I'm… I'm just sorry, okay? Stop asking stupid questions," Wade says, frustrated.

Yeah, that's a dumb answer, and a stupid reaction, but what the fuck.

What is Logan expecting him to say?

That he's sorry for hurting him?

Well, that's true, but Wade doesn't think it's appropriate to say it. Besides, what else can he say?

He can't make a promise he can't keep.

"Listen, I have this bucket list and, I dunno, would you be interested in doing some of the things with me?" Wade asks. "I know, I'm dying and all that shit, but still, it'd be fun, you know? Just think about it. I know it sounds bad, but at least, if we do, I won't be alone, you know?"

Logan looks at him, and the intensity of his gaze makes Wade feel naked.

Wade expects Logan to curse him out again, have another outburst and punch a hole in the wall, or simply leave him alone in his misery (which might actually be the best option). But instead, Logan's expression softens, and he gives Wade a smile.

A small, broken smile with layers of meaning that Wade can barely begin to unravel. It tugs at something deep inside him, but it also brings a genuine smile to his own face in return.

"What's on your mind?" Logan asks, and Wade's smile widens just a bit more.

The tightness in his chest does too, but he chooses to ignore it.

Wade checks off item number three as soon as he's out of the shower, and they spend the rest of the night eating chimichangas he ordered for delivery and watching some of the movies from his list.

Wade feels his chest expand every time Logan smiles or chuckles, and the feeling doesn't go away when Logan falls asleep with his head on his shoulder.

(If Wade spends the rest of the night just staring at Logan's face, who is going to know?)

The following day, Wade wakes up feeling more tired than he had been when he went to bed, and his stomach protestsloudly as he rolls over onto his side.

His mouth is dry, his throat feels sore, and his head is pounding.

He closes his eyes, hoping to go back to sleep and escape from the pain, but it doesn't work.

He tries to sit up, but it hurts too much, so he rolls over and curls up on his side, his head pounding.

Wade knows this isn't a migraine, nor a normal headache.

This is the beginning.

The start of the end.

The worst is yet to come.

And, as he's laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying not to groan in pain, he's grateful that at least, he's not alone.

"Wade, are you awake?" Logan asks hoarsely beside him.

Wade tries to answer, but a groan is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

Logan immediately gets out of bed and sits down beside him, putting a hand on his forehead.

"Shit, you're burning," Logan says.

Wade wants to tell him that his fever is probably not that high, but his mouth won't cooperate, and he's afraid of opening his mouth, fearing the vomit will come out.

"I'll bring some painkillers, okay? Hang in there," Logan says.

Wade hears Logan walking through the house, and soon, he returns, handing him two pills and a glass of water.

"Sit up, okay? I know it's hard, but you have to drink," Logan says, helping Wade sit up.

Wade takes the painkillers and swallows them with difficulty. His throat feels dry and painful.

"Good, good. Try to get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up," Logan says.

Wade nods, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headboard.

The bed dips beside him, and he can feel the warmth of Logan's body next to him.

"Try to sleep," Logan whispers.

It doesn't take long before Wade feels his eyelids getting heavy and he's drifting off.

His body moves on its own and his head rolls sideways, finding Logan's shoulder, and his body relaxes at the contact.

The last thing Wade remembers is Logan's hand holding his own, warm, calloused and rough, but also strong and comforting.

Wade holds his hand tightly and Logan doesn't let go.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Wade says through the haze of his fever. "But this is going to be hell. And I won't be mad if you want to leave, you know? You don't have to be here. I'll understand."

Logan snorts and squeezes his hand, but doesn't say anything.

Wade falls asleep after a few minutes, the pain slowly easing up.

And, as he's drifting off, he doesn't think about how many days he has left.

He just hopes that the last ones are not going to be too ugly. Not because of himself, but because he doesn't want Logan to see him like that.

Because that's not the last image he wants Logan to remember of him.

Logan deserves a nice memory. A good one. He's been through enough shit, so he deserves something happy and sweet, you know? And Wade is not sure if he's going to give him that.

But he'll try his best, anyway.

Wade is determined to cross all the things off his bucket list.

And maybe, if he's lucky, Logan will be able to have some kind of fond memory of him.

That's all he wants.

A little bit of happiness.

(For the both of them.)

Chapter Text

 "This video is so ridiculous. We should definitely find one that explains things better," Wade complains, glaring at the old man on the screen explaining — in a totally unhelpful way — how to do the type of calligraphy Wade wants to learn.

"Are you sure the video is the problem?" Logan teases, smiling smugly at Wade's handwriting, which is barely better than that of a seven-year-old. "Because in my opinion, someone clearly skipped the basic calligraphy classes in school and decided to go straight for the fancy stuff." 

Wade throws the ink pencil – which he bought exclusively for this purpose – onto the table in frustration and crosses his arms, tempted to punch Logan's annoyingly attractive face just to see if it would make him look any less handsome.

Of course, it would be a wasted effort. Logan never looks ugly, and his healing factor would erase any damage Wade manages to inflict in a minute.

Besides, Wade doubts he has the strength to punch Logan right now, and he prefers not to think about that at the moment.

Instead, he focuses on sulking and deliberately messing up Logan's writing, which Wade begrudgingly admits is just a tiny bit better than his own.

Seriously, is there anything this guy can't do?! 

Do they even teach calligraphy at the X-Mansion? 

If they do, Wade should have accepted Colossus's invitation, because at least then he wouldn't be so frustrated that his writing is stiff and shaky, while Logan's looks rounded and elegant, just like the fancy calligraphy demonstrated by that bald, smiling idiot on YouTube.

"Look at this! It looks like a child did it!" Wade exclaims in dismay, gesturing dramatically to the messy page in front of him. "How are you doing it? I've followed that damn tutorial and I'm still failing! This is so unfair! And worse! My name is shorter than yours, but I'm using more paper! Look! Look at it! And your words are huge! Why can't I write like that?!"

Logan shakes his head and laughs softly at Wade's dramatic outburst. "I can't believe you're getting upset over this. This is just a hobby. It's not even a requirement."

"Shut up, Logan. You don't know how important this is to me," Wade retorts, picking up the ink pen and trying again, but he's just getting angrier and messier. "I want to have nice, smooth, cursive calligraphy! With loops and swirls and curvy lines and all that stuff!"

"Okay, calm down, will you? Let me help ya. I'll show ya how to do it," Logan offers, and Wade pretends his heart doesn't skip a beat when Logan stands behind him and places his hands on top of his, guiding him through the motions.

"Like this," Logan murmurs, his breath tickling Wade's ear. "Relax your hand and hold the pen lightly, and when you do the strokes, make sure your hand is flowing, like you're drawing the letters with your finger, not pressing down too hard or moving too fast."

Logan's hands are firm, but gentle as they guide his movements, and the warmth of his body against Wade's back is oddly comforting.

For someone accustomed to sudden, violent movements, Logan's hand feels surprisingly gentle against Wade's. 

They are larger, heavier, and warmer than Wade’s. Wade isn’t sure if that’s because Logan is naturally warm or because Wade has been running frequent fevers.

The days alternate between good and bad. Fortunately, there are more good days than bad ones. Some days, Wade doesn’t have the strength to get out of bed. Other days, he feels well enough to almost forget that he’s rotting from the inside out.

On the good days, he tries to fill them with the people who matter to him and to check off items on his bucket list. 

Of course, Wade couldn't keep the secret about the whole 'dying' and 'cancer' thing from his friends for long. Thankfully, they seem to understand that for someone like Wade, keeping his humor alive and not letting himself fall apart because of the shitty situation is important. So, whatever tears and lamentations they're fighting against, they thankfully do it away from Wade. 

He hates it when any of them see him in a vulnerable moment—when dizziness hits or he can't hold back the nausea and spends much of the day hugging the toilet bowl—but in those cases, there's not much to be done, right?

As they say, it's all part of the job.

And, of course, one of the perks of having people you care about is that they always want to be there for you, in every way possible. So, sometimes, even if Wade doesn't want them to see him like that, he can't refuse their help when they insist on taking care of him.

It's embarrassing and Wade hates it with all his heart. But... sometimes he also enjoys it a lot. It feels nice to be taken care of.

Especially, it feels good to be taken care of by Logan.

(By now, Wade is already used to the constant feeling of a knot in his stomach.)

Logan is currently doing just that — taking care of Wade (kind of) — and even though he's giving him a lesson on how to use a goddamn pen in a weird way and a really annoying instructional video is playing in the background, it feels... nice.

There are moments when Wade almost forgets that he's dying. When it doesn't hurt too much and he doesn't feel like shit. When it seems that the only thing that matters is this little moment with Logan.

And God, he wants this moment to last forever.

"See? It's not so difficult," Logan says when Wade finishes the last word and backs away slightly so Wade can take a look at his work.

"It's not that bad," Wade admits reluctantly, still feeling frustrated. "But you're an asshole and I'm never going to be able to do it like you."

"You're just jealous," Logan teases.

"I'm not jealous! It's not my fault my name has a goddamn 'W' in it! I should have thought about that when I was born. Or rather, my parents should have thought about it," Wade complains. "You know, I could be a 'John' or a 'Mark'. Something normal. Something easy to write. But no! My parents had to fuck up my life."

Logan laughs at Wade's absurd rant. 

And no, Logan's laugh absolutely doesn't make Wade's heart swell with joy, or make him want to laugh along with him.

"Your name could be something like 'Eugene', or 'Reginald', or 'Dick'," Logan says mockingly, "The last one would be perfect for you."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that. Asshole," Wade grumbles. "My dick in your fucking ass, hah, as if."

Logan just laughs louder and Wade curses himself internally for always getting carried away.

But, to be honest, the sight of Logan laughing happily — at his expense or not — is more than worth the humiliation.

Wade keeps practicing for the rest of the afternoon, but his progress is very slow, and he feels extremely frustrated with his inability to write the damn letters without messing up and ruining the paper.

If he was as good with calligraphy as he was with his katanas, he'd be a goddamn master.

Eventually, Logan dozes off beside him on the couch, his breathing evening out. 

Wade grabs his phone and takes a picture of him sleeping, just because he looks cute and it's kind of a once in a lifetime opportunity, okay?

And then he goes back to his writing, determined to get it right.

It takes a while, but when he manages to get a satisfactory result, he spends a few minutes admiring his work, and can't help but grin proudly.

He reaches for another paper and writes something different this time.

Something... special.

His own name comes first. Next to it, he writes 'Logan'. He stares at the two names for a while and smiles as he carefully draws a heart between them.

He's not sure why he does it. It's childish and silly and completely unnecessary. Is he ten? No. Definitely not. But he loves it anyway.

He's dying anyway, right? So, what's the problem?

Wade starts to doodle some random things around the heart, trying to get distracted from the pain that has been coming in waves since yesterday, growing stronger and stronger every now and then.

Sometimes it's just a little annoying, like an ache in his joints or a migraine. And sometimes it's like a stabbing pain in his stomach. And other times it's like a fire under his skin, making him sweat and burn inside.

And all that... they are just part of it. 

He knows that, so far, he's been lucky. Some patients experience constant pain and discomfort, and Wade knows he will too eventually. Weasel got him morphine pills to help with that, but fortunately, he hasn't had to use them yet.

Vanessa tried to convince him into going to an actual doctor and trying chemotherapy and other conventional treatments, but Wade refused.

He knows his cancer is terminal. And he's accepted that. He doesn't want to suffer even more than necessary just to live a little longer.

What's the point of suffering for months, when he knows his time is running out anyway?

It might sound selfish and arrogant, but it's better to die knowing he tried to live his last days to the fullest. It's better to do something than to lay in a hospital bed thinking about all the things he never did and all the things he missed.

Also, if Wade does nothing, he'll have his loved ones close to him and he won't be alone. That's not so bad, right?

Wade is old enough to know what he wants and what he doesn't want. 

Wade wants to live. 

Isn't it ironic how you come to appreciate the value of life when it's hanging by a thread? Wade recognizes this irony all too well. Maybe it's a sign that the end is near. These poetic, philosophical, and profound epiphanies often show up just before something ends.

Wade knows this because he's watched enough dramatic movies with poetic messages to understand that his sudden clarity isn't just a coincidence.

But yeah, Wade does want to live. Of course he does. And not just survive. He wants to live in every sense of the word. He wants to experience new things, try new foods, go to new places, read new books, watch new movies, and just... be happy.

Yet, his time is short. There are just a few things left on his bucket list and he is determined to do them all.

Even if his handwriting is still a little shaky and wobbly, the letters are rounded and beautiful, Wade is proud of his final work. 

On the top of the page, Wade writes, 

'To: Logan (¬_¬)

From: Wade (^-^)'

Not that he'll ever give it to him. Not really. It would be too embarrassing. And then, after he's gone, Logan will probably laugh at him for being a sappy idiot.

But, you know what? Fuck it. He'll give it to him anyway. Just for the hell of it.

Or maybe, Wade will just hide it somewhere so Logan finds it later.

Yes, that's what he'll do.

It reminds Wade of that movie, 'Ps: I love you'. You know, the one where Gerard Butler leaves a letter to his wife telling her what to do and... well, Wade doesn't really remember the plot, but there is something like a letter in there.

He's not planning on leaving Logan a long letter explaining why he's doing this or some shit like that, but yeah, hiding his gift and having Logan find it later might be fun.

Like a scavenger hunt or something.

That way, Logan won't laugh at him (or if he does, Wade won't have to see it), and Logan will kind of have a nice memory of him when he's gone.

Yeah. That doesn't sound so bad.

Wade smiles as he carefully folds the paper and shoves it into the pocket of his hoodie.

It's just a piece of paper with some bad calligraphy and drawings on it, but he hopes Logan will like it.

(And if he doesn't? Well, whatever.)

This is something for Logan to remember him by, a little piece of Wade to keep with him for a while.

Wade isn't so presumptuous as to think Logan will remember him forever. After all, Logan has lost countless people who were far more significant—Charles, Jean, Scott, Hank, Ororo, and all the other X-Men. Wade will eventually blur into the background among the many people Logan has already had to say goodbye to.

But Wade hopes it will be enough for Logan to remember him once in a while. Afterall, Logan will still live long after he's gone. 

And when Wade's nothing but a distant memory, Logan will be able to take that stupid, fading piece of paper out and remember their time together, and... who knows? Maybe he'll even miss Wade a little?

God, Wade hopes not. 

He hopes Logan will live a goddamn happy, peaceful life and forget about him forever.

This is what Wade wants for Logan and Vanessa and all the other people who mean something to him. For them to move on from his death and live their lives happily without him.

By the end of the night, Wade scratches the item number four off his list and slips under the sheets with a smile on his face. 

The night is cold and he feels his body tremble. The fever is lower than it's been in days and Wade thanks whoever's up there for granting him a reprieve from the pain.

Wade closes his eyes and snuggles further into the warmth of his sheets. A few minutes later, Logan knocks softly on his door, then enters silently, holding a glass of water and a small bottle of pills.

He doesn't say anything. He just sits down next to him and helps him sit up.

"Do I really have to?" Wade complains in a sleepy voice. "I'm not in pain right now and I don't feel like I'm on fire. I want to sleep."

"You'll sleep better if you take it," Logan says gruffly, but his hand on Wade's back is still gentle. "Come on, it'll make you feel better. It'll keep you from feeling it tomorrow."

Wade sighs dramatically and opens his mouth to complain some more, but Logan pushes the pill against his lips and Wade is forced to open his mouth again and accept it.

"You know I hate it when you treat me like I'm a fucking child," Wade complains as he swallows the pill without much protest, because Logan's right. 

"Well, then stop acting like one and stop whining," Logan responds with a glare that is not as effective as it should be because Wade knows it's just Logan's way of caring for him.

"Whatever. Asshole." Wade pouts and shivers a little as a chill runs up his spine. 

Logan pulls the blanket higher and tucks it in around him, a gesture that surprises Wade with its tenderness.

"Hey," Logan murmurs, sitting up next to him again. "If you're feeling good tomorrow, wanna try to try to complete another item from your list?"

Wade smiles at him, nodding.

"Now that you mention it, there's this Sanrio store nearby. They sell all sorts of cute stuff." Wade giggles, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Do you want to go on a date with me there, handsome?"

Logan snorts, shaking his head, but there is no trace of annoyance in his expression.

"Sanrio? Really? Your taste in stores is weird." Logan scoffs. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Who the hell doesn't like Hello Kitty?!" Wade exclaims indignantly, barely able to hold back a yawn. "If you don't, sorry to inform you buddy, but you're already dead inside. When is it the funeral? I'll bring some flowers for your grave."

Logan laughs and the sound is like a caress for Wade's heart.

"I've heard this Hello Kitty stuff is very popular with girls," Logan says with amusement. "Didn't know you were one too."

"You should take a look under my underwear, Wolverine," Wade says, shrugging casually. "Then you'll know whether I'm a girl or not. I'm sure you'll be delighted to know."

Logan laughs and Wade thinks there's no greater happiness than hearing Logan laugh and knowing he's the one making him do it.

"This Hello Kitty doll, I've heard it's some kind of demonic creature, or some shit like that," Logan says mockingly. "But you can buy one anyway. It'll probably make a nice decoration for your room."

"Hell, yes. I'm totally getting a big plush toy," Wade declares with a huge smile. "In fact, my list says I'm getting the whole collection, and that's what I'm gonna do. And I'll buy the whole shop too, just because I can. It'll look so fucking cool, right? I can't wait. Maybe I should start looking at some furniture and decor stuff to match it. What do you think?"

Logan shakes his head again and doesn't answer, but he's smiling a little and it's obvious he's not annoyed by Wade's ramblings, or the idea of spending a whole afternoon walking around a store full of pink and cute things.

Wade can't say exactly when or why it happened, but at some point, he realized Logan was no longer complaining or judging his choices or teasing him about his hobbies.

Maybe it's because Wade is dying and Logan no longer feels the need to keep him at arm's length. Maybe it's because, after seeing Wade at his lowest, Logan no longer has the courage to deny him anything, afraid he'll disappear at any moment.

But thankfully, there is no pity in his gaze.

Wade doesn't want Logan's pity.

He wants his smile.

"Get some rest," Logan murmurs, running his fingers through Wade's arm gently. 

Wade hums and smiles lazily, closing his eyes and relaxing under Logan's touch.

"Are you gonna go back to your room?" he asks, feeling his consciousness slowly fading.

"You want me to stay?" Logan asks.

"Yeah." Wade nods. "Sleep with me. Cuddle me. I'm cold. Please, help me. Come on, baby, light my fire..."

Logan snorts and gets up from the bed, and Wade almost panics thinking he's going to leave, but then Logan just turns off the lights and goes back to his side.

"Move over, you fucking idiot," Logan grunts.

"Why are you so fat? I can't move." Wade complains and of course, he is fucking lying.

Because Logan is not fat. In fact, he is quite the opposite.

Logan is lean, strong, muscular and perfect and... oh god, now is not the time to think about his body.

Wade can feel the fever coming back and he starts to sweat a little, but it might be because of something else.

Like the way Logan's body heat is pressed against him, warm and comforting. Like the way he can smell the scent of his cologne or the faint smell of cigar and whiskey on his clothes.

Wade's not sure, but he thinks his heart rate might have increased. And he feels more alive than he has in days.

He feels tempted to try the 'kissing' item on his list and maybe a few others too.

The sex toys item seems tempting too. They could try them together.

He wants Logan to use them on him and he'd gladly return the favor.

Wade can imagine himself pushing the dildo into Logan's ass. And oh, that's a very pretty picture. Logan with his head thrown back and panting breathlessly as Wade fucks him slowly with a dildo.

Wade wonders if Logan enjoys being on the receiving end. If he's ever been fucked by another guy before. If he'd let Wade fuck him with a dildo.

Or maybe something bigger.

Like a cock.

Wade's cock.

It's not like Wade will ever find that out, huh? But... oh well, he can fantasize about it, right?

Wade sighs dreamily and realizes Logan has been saying something for a while now. He tries to pay attention to what he's saying, but it's hard when Logan's hand is massaging his head soothingly.

He can feel his body relax and all the pain in his limbs start to fade away slowly.

Wade barely hears Logan wishing him goodnight as he drifts off to sleep, and Logan's low voice is the last thing he hears before he falls asleep, listening to Logan's heartbeat and thinking about all the things he wished they had done together.

The next morning, Wade wakes up feeling terrible and spends the entire day oscillating between restless sleep and frequent trips to the bathroom to expel nonexistent contents from his stomach. Logan persuades him to take anti-nausea medication, even though Wade knows it's useless. 

Maybe the migraine causes the nausea, or maybe it's the other way around.

It doesn't matter. 

Wade feels like crap, and the fact that his date with Logan was ruined because of it makes him even more irritated. During brief intervals between disturbed naps and bathroom visits, Wade manages to eat some sort of mush that Dopinder brought, assuring him it's medicinal—Ayurvedic medicine or some shit like that.

Wade is almost certain it's some kind of esotericism (or quackery), but hey, who is he to judge other people's beliefs? Wade prides himself on being open-minded—except when it comes to Nazis, fascists, or similar scum.

The soup is good, though, despite Logan having tasted it and said it tastes like shit.

(Of course, Logan said that after Dopinder had left, because Logan is surprisingly kind to almost everyone who isn't Wade.) 

Despite this, Wade's nausea remains for another two days, accompanied by a good dose of pain, coughing, and blood. 

And well... blood is never a good sign, is it? 

Which is ironic (again), since Wade is more than used to seeing blood—both from others and himself. But it's a completely different matter to see blood coming out of his mouth (and occasionally from below too—his bladder seems to be fucked as well), and to know that this time, there won't be any miraculous healing factor to help him out.

And yet, Wade's spirit is not broken. Not at all.

Why would it be? He's still got things to do!

The list doesn't end there, after all.

He watches the rest of the movies from his list and makes Logan watch them with him. 

Logan doesn't complain. 

He just sits on the edge of Wade's bed, his eyes fixed on the TV screen, and listens as Wade interrupts the movie several times to comment on some of the plot points or talk about what's happening (even though it's clear he's seen it a hundred times).

He pauses 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' midway through the movie because he wants to show Logan the picture of Tom Felton in the first 'Harry Potter' movie when he was twelve.

He pauses again forty minutes later and tells Logan how much he wants a Cloak of Invisibility because he would love to sneak into people's houses and get in their beds without them knowing and just... yeah, you know what he means.

Or at least, Wade hopes Logan gets it. Most of the time, Logan just nods and offers a few curt responses, but it doesn't bother Wade because he knows Logan is listening to every word he says.

Logan doesn't run away like he did months ago. Nor does he demands Wade shut up or calls him an idiot.

(Sometimes he does call Wade an idiot, but that's okay, because… he is one.)

Wade is grateful for that.

And if he starts coughing in the middle of the movie and has run to the bathroom to vomit into the toilet what little remains of his lunch and then, thirty minutes later, coughing up more blood into the sink... Well, thankfully Logan doesn’t comment on that either.

Logan just helps him get cleaned up, hands him a toothbrush to brush his teeth, and guides him back to bed.

But Wade does notices though, that Logan holds him a little tighter when they go to sleep that night, as if he's afraid Wade might slip away at any moment.

Logan's embrace tells Wade that Logan seems to fear waking up to find Wade lifeless in his arms. And that… well, Wade can empathize with that feeling.

Not that it has ever happened to him, but, well… it's something you wouldn't wish on anyone. Not on your worst enemy, much less on someone you love.

That's why Wade closes his eyes and pleads with whoever might be listening that he will be able to open his eyes the next day.

When Logan's breathing becomes even and Wade is sure he's asleep, Wade takes a deep breath and commits Logan's familiar scent to memory. In that moment, where no one can bear witness, he allows a solitary tear to roll from his eyes and die on the warm skin of Logan's chest beneath his face.

Just one tear, only for tonight, for the time being.

In the morning, there will be no tears, just a smile on Wade's face for those he loves.

He might be dying, but his heart is happy and that's what matters most.

Two days later, Wade feels slightly better, so he decides it's time to finally go to the Sanrio Store and complete another item on his bucket list.

It's a clear and sunny day outside and the temperature is mild, so they decide to go out to walk instead of taking the car. It's not far from Wade's apartment, only fifteen minutes away. 

The air is warm and Wade's lungs open up as soon as he steps outside the apartment and breathes in fresh air.

(It's polluted and unpleasant, but it feels good to be outside for a change.)

Even the bustle of New York City seems cheerful and Wade almost feels like whistling, or skipping down the street or doing something equally ridiculous.

After all, it's a beautiful day to be alive!

Wade slings his arm around Logan's waist and smiles up at him. "I'm so happy! Aren't you happy too, Lo-lo?"

Logan grimaces at the nickname and looks around the street cautiously, but Wade notices that he doesn't pull away from his touch.

"Why are you calling me that?" Logan grumbles. "And I don't know if I would say I'm happy. After all, we're going to a fucking Hello Kitty store."

"Come on, stop being such a party pooper." Wade nudges Logan's side playfully. "We're gonna have fun there. I'll buy you something cute too if you want."

Logan arches an eyebrow at him and Wade wishes he would do that more often. It's hot.

"Something cute, huh?" Logan smirks. "Okay, Wade, why don't you surprise me?"

Wade stops walking and stares at him in shock.

Did Logan just make a joke?

And Wade asks him exactly that. "Did you just make a joke? In public? Wow, you're full of surprises today!"

"Don't get used to it." Logan grunts and Wade knows he's trying not to laugh.

"Logan, you know you can tell me if you want me to buy you a Hello Kitty vibrator, right?" Wade says in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I'll get it for you in a heartbeat, big guy."

"Do they sell this kind of shit in that store?" Logan asks with a frown, looking more curious than disgusted by the idea. "I thought it was some kind of clothes shop."

"There's probably a sex shop nearby," Wade says casually, "but I think it's more likely to find Hello Kitty condoms than a Hello Kitty dildo."

"Hello Kitty condoms," Logan repeats dryly. "Great. Do they smell like strawberries and taste like bubblegum or some shit like that?"

Wade chuckles at Logan's sarcasm and throws an arm around his neck to pull him closer to his body.

"Do you have a sweet tooth?" Wade teases him. "If you're in the mood for some good candy, I can give you a taste of my rainbow lollipop, but it's not for kids."

Logan rolls his eyes and snorts loudly, but there's a half-smile on his face now.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Logan says mockingly.

"Well, you haven't complained about it yet, handsome," Wade replies smugly. "If you don't like what I've got to offer, you could always try it with someone else..."

"Someone like Weasel?" Logan asks with a raised eyebrow, and then adds with a smirk. "Or maybe your lovely Dopinder?"

Wade makes a horrified face and shakes his head vigorously.

"No no no no," Wade says adamantly. "Definitely not! And certainly not Weasel. Oh my god, just the thought makes me want to throw up again!"

"You're the one who suggested it," Logan reminds him, amused.

"I'm sick, okay? Leave me alone!" Wade mutters. "Better, buy me this super cute Hello Kitty tiara, because it's fucking awesome!"

Logan stares at the item in Wade's hands with a grimace on his face. It has cat ears on top, along with Hello Kitty's head in the middle, and pink sparkly rhinestones adorning the sides. It's completely ridiculous, but Wade is beaming from ear to ear as he holds it up in front of Logan's face.

"I don't know if you deserve that tiara after all," Logan says. "You've been fucking annoying all day."

Wade pretends to pout and points a finger at Logan's chest accusingly.

"Me? Annoying?" Wade puts a hand to his heart as if he were wounded by his words. "You can't say that to me! That's a horrible thing to say to me! You know what, fuck you. I'm gonna buy it for myself! And I'll look so much more fabulous than you ever would."

Logan smiles at him and grabs the tiara from Wade's hands without asking for permission. He holds it carefully between his hands as if he were afraid of breaking it or something, and then, slowly, he places it on top of Wade's head.

"Does it look good on me?" Wade asks.

He puts his hands on his waist and tries to strike a pose to look as sexy and fabulous as possible.

Some other customers are looking at them strangely, but Wade doesn't give a shit, because Logan is laughing and smilingand he looks so damn beautiful when he does that.

Wade's heart starts to race again.

The sound of Logan's laughter fills his ears and makes him forget where he is, as if time had suddenly stopped just for them.

God, he loves Logan so much.

It's almost cruel how much he loves him.

His feelings for Logan are so strong that they take his breath away.

Logan shakes his head and chuckles softly, and Wade smiles back at him, basking in the glow of Logan's laughter.

This is everything he wants.

That moment with Logan, the laughter, the smile on his face... it's so beautiful and perfect that it's almost enough to make him forget that this is the only time he'll ever be able to see this side of Logan.

In a few weeks he will be gone and Logan will be alone again, just like he was before Wade showed up in his life.

At least now, Logan will still have them—these bunch of weirdos who somehow became his friends. His family.

He considers it a privilege to be able to call them that.

The days he has left will be more precious than the longest one he has lived, and he will live them to the fullest with all those he loves.

Including Logan.

Especially Logan.

"Do you like it?" Wade asks him, lifting the tiara from his head to examine it more closely. "I think I look like a princessnow."

"I guess it suits you," Logan says with a smile. "Just like every other stupid thing you do."

"What can I say? I'm just naturally talented at being stupid." Wade shrugs and places the tiara back on his head. "I'm fucking fabulous at it, aren't I?"

Logan laughs again and rolls his eyes before saying, "Yeah, you are, princess."

And damn if he doesn't blush when he says it.

Wade's heart fucking melts at that.

Because he is a princess, okay? A fabulous, crazy, sexy-ass, murderous, mercenary, princess.

(Yes, all of those things can be put together to describe him. And the fact that he's also dying, doesn't make him less of a badass. It just means he's got a limited time to be awesome, but he'll use every second he's got left on this earth to show the world his awesomeness. And fuck cancer!)

Wade buys a plush of every character he can find in the shop, including a couple of the ugly ones because... well, they're not so ugly after all, because duh, it's Sanrio, and even the ugliest creatures are cute and cuddly.

They stop by a coffee shop on their way home and Wade gets himself a cappuccino with lots of sugar and cinnamon on top, and a chocolate muffin for dessert.

Logan orders black coffee and a blueberry muffin, and they both sit down in a corner of the cafe while they wait for their order.

"Gimme your phone," Logan asks as he sips his coffee.

"Why?" Wade asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Just do it, goddamnit," Logan growls.

Wade rolls his eyes but obeys and hands him the phone.

Wade watches as Logan takes out a strap from his pocket, a Kuromi strap, and attaches it to Wade's phone.

Wade smiles widely as soon as he realizes what's happening.

"Are you serious?" Wade asks, feeling his eyes water. "You bought me this?"

"Just shut up," Logan grunts. "You're annoying when you get sentimental, princess."

"You're so sweet," Wade gushes, taking his phone back and admiring the little plush Kuromi attached to the strap. "It's adorable. You're adorable. And you know what's even better? She looks like you, grumpy kitty!"

"How the fuck do I look like a cartoon character?" Logan snaps.

"You've got the same eye stare," Wade says, and he's not joking. "See?"

Wade lifts his phone and shows him the Kuromi's face on the strap.

"Yeah, sure." Logan shakes his head. "Whatever you say, princess."

"You're still calling me princess, huh?" Wade chuckles.

Logan doesn't answer. Instead, he retrieves another hidden small bag (how many fucking bags did he have inside his jacket?!) and tosses it into Wade's lap.

"That's yours too," Logan says gruffly. "Just take it and stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Wade asks curiously, but his mouth drops open and his heart skips a beat as he looks at the content of the small plastic bag.

"Oh my god, Lo-lo," Wade says breathlessly, feeling his chest tighten painfully as he holds the Hello Kitty tiara in his hands. "Is this for me too? Really?"

"It was supposed to be a joke, but... yeah, if you want it, you can have it," Logan mutters, his face turning slightly pink."Yer a princess, afterall, ain't ya? You like those kinda stuff, so I thought it would be... whatever, just keep it if ya want."

Wade nods wordlessly and feels a lump form in his throat. He doesn't know what to say.

He just stares at the little Hello Kitty tiara in his hands as a torrent of emotions rush through him.

"Thank you," Wade finally manages to whisper, his voice hoarse and cracking slightly.

Logan nods and sips his coffee, and Wade tries not to cry as he clutches the tiara tightly against his chest.

"You're a very nice person, Logan," Wade tells him. "I hope… well, I hope someone is good to you too, because you deserve it, okay? You deserve the world, big guy."

Okay, Wade didn't mean for his words to sound so emotional and sentimental, but, damn it, it's hard not to be affected when his heart is threatening to jump out of his chest.

Logan stares at him in silence, his eyes fixed on his own, and Wade feels the urge to lean over the table and kiss him.

He wants to do that so badly.

To kiss him.

But he can't, so he just looks at him and smiles instead, hoping that the emotion he feels is reflected in his eyes, that the adoration he feels is visible.

Maybe Logan doesn't notice or doesn't care, but his words, although spoken in a low voice, are sincere and meaningful, and they warm his heart.

"Thank you, princess."

Wade grins at the nickname and decides that, yes, he is a fucking princess and he's damn proud of it.

Chapter Text

"God, I'm so proud of my tattoo. It's a shame I can't see it, otherwise, I'd be looking at it every remaining minute of my life," Wade says, smiling as he takes a big bite of his chimichanga, ignoring the fact that his stomach will reject the food in a few hours.

Well, what matters is enjoying the moment, right? Let his stomach deal with it. The taste of vomit is awful and the feeling is crappy, but nothing a good Listerine can't fix.

"When you said 'get a cool tattoo,' I didn't imagine... this," Logan says, taking a sip of his beer. "Now I feel like an idiot for not suspecting that someone like ya would do something like this."

Wade stares at Logan, and instinctively touches his butt cheek where his tattoo is.

"Excuse me, my tattoo is genius!" Wade protests, offended. "I have your name tattooed on my ass."

Logan rolls his eyes and steals the chimichanga from Wade's hand, taking a bite and wiping a bit of sauce from the corner of Wade’s lips with his thumb.

You want to know if Wade's heart skipped a beat, right? 

Absolutely not. Nope. Not a beat.

That feeling of it almost bursting out of his chest is the cancer. It must be.

Yes, Wade is sure that's what it was.

"My name. And the rest of the entire world's," Logan adds dryly.

"Sorry, baby, but… are you jealous?" Wade teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Two days after the visit to the Sanrio store, Wade's pain started to become really uncomfortable.

Bone and joint pain is normal, and he knows this.

Hell, Wade knows his cancer has metastasized, and the fact that he can still eat, move (with definite difficulty, but still), and talk (make jokes) is kind of a miracle. Maybe he's resistant to pain, or just stubborn, but… yeah, things have been getting shitty.

That's why Wade decided he should complete the item number six on his bucket list while he could still walk, you know?

Logan was not too thrilled to be the one who had to take him to the tattoo parlor, and he looked even more uncomfortable when Wade told him what he wanted to tattoo on his ass, but well, what did you expect?

The result, however, was worth all the trouble.

The tattoo is simple and fortunately, didn't take more than thirty minutes to complete.

A black font of a minimalist design and the words 'YOUR NAME' in bold, capital letters, right over the curve of his butt cheek.

He couldn't go wrong with this, right?

Logan seems to disagree, but hey, he's an asshole who's always complaining about everything, so his opinion doesn't count.

"Why am I your friend?" Logan mutters with a snort and takes another bite of the chimichanga. "Of all the people in the world, I had to get stuck with you."

"I'm awesome," Wade says proudly. "And because you love me. A lot. I know you loved my tattoo too! Can you imagine Thanos' face if I ever showed him that? God, he would totally hate me! He would give up on collecting Infinity Stones just to erase my ass from the universe."

Logan grunts noncommittally and pushes the chimichanga towards Wade again, signaling him to finish it before he steals it again.

"Thanks for the food," Wade says. "I was starving."

It's a lie.

But hey, Wade will do anything to make Logan smile. Besides, Logan had the best intentions for him and that's what really counts, right?

Logan was thoughtful and bought him food even though Wade's stomach is in constant turmoil, and that's a lot considering that he knows Wade's condition has deteriorated significantly in the last two days.

Logan is fucking adorable, and Wade is completely, madly, and stupidly in love with him.

And he'll never tell him that. Neither the first thing, nor the second.

He can't do that to him. He can't ruin the last few moments they have together with awkward confessions. He won't.

That's why he just smiles and eats the damn chimichanga before his stomach decides to throw it up.

Because yes, of course that will happen eventually, but Wade will try to enjoy the moment as much as possible for as long as he can.

"Too bad your healing factor wouldn't allow you to get a tattoo," Wade says as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "You would look so fucking hot with a tat on your chest. Something very manly and macho like a tiger or a wolf! Oh my god, wait! Get a wolverine tattoo! You know, the small, angry, murderous animal with sharp teeth? I bet you would look very sexy with that!"

Logan deadpans and stares at him for a few seconds, raising an eyebrow and trying to look intimidating and angry. But in the end, he snorts and shakes his head as he drinks his beer.

"Yer an idiot," Logan mutters. "You're fucking crazy, princess."

Wade winks at him and makes a kissy face.

"How about a piercing then? Like, a nipple piercing? Oh my god, your nipple would look so pretty with a small diamond. You'll see!" Wade grabs Logan's t-shirt and lifts it up slightly, only to be greeted by the sight of Logan's abs and pecs, which… well, look damn good. Wade feels his mouth go dry. "Yup, I don't have a doubt about it. A piercing would definitely suit you, grumpy kitty. Very sexy, very kinky—and don't look at me like that because I'm not finished yet—like very-very kinky and dominant. Do you want to know why? Because you're just that kind of guy."

Wade finishes his speech by clicking his tongue and nodding his head confidently, as if he were stating something absolutely certain and true.

"Dominant, huh?" Logan asks, smirking slightly as he tilts his head. "What makes you think that? Why are you so sure I'm not submissive?"

Wade nearly chokes on his water, and Logan laughs out loud as he watches him cough.

The cough soon becomes stained with blood and Wade closes his eyes, trying to calm down so that his breathing stabilizes.

He tries to clean his face and shirt, but it's impossible without a towel. Logan frowns and looks at him with concern, but Wade just smiles at him, silently trying to assure that he is fine.

Which is a fucking lie, of course but... whatever.

"Jesus, that was embarrassing," Wade chuckles softly as he wipes his lips with his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Lo-lo. I'll pay you back for this shirt later."

Yes, Wade has been wearing Logan's shirts because he's running out of clean clothes too fast. The fever makes him sweaty and he needs to change every time he wakes up from his short naps. And don't even get him started on the blood-coughing fits and puking—okay, maybe he shouldn't talk about that because, ugh, not a very pleasant topic.

The weather has been getting colder, so it takes longer for his clothes to dry now. So yeah, Logan has been letting him borrow his shirts for some days now and Wade can't deny that he enjoys that a lot. Logan's shirts are comfy and smell nice, even though they're too big for him. 

Since he lost his healing factor and his cancer returned, Wade has inevitably lost weight, and even his own clothes are now too big for him. Logan's shirts are so large on Wade that his shoulders often slip out, but he doesn't mind. 

Wade loves the smell of Logan's clothes. Though they use the same laundry detergent, there's that distinct scent of Logan ingrained in them, allowing Wade to almost pretend he's in Logan's arms when he wears them.

Logan often sleeps in Wade's room, but it's not a daily occurrence. 

On harder days, when Wade can't go more than a few hours (sometimes even minutes) without his stomach feeling like it's trying to escape through his mouth, Wade prefers to be alone. 

It's less humiliating, and let's face it, the smell and constant noise can't be pleasant. Logan says he doesn't mind, but Wade insists he prefers it this way.

(Sometimes it's comforting to curl up in bed, biting down on a pillow to cope with the pain. Pretending everything is under control whenever someone is around is exhausting, okay?)

Wade has reluctantly given in to the morphine pills too. He hates them because they make him feel tired, drowsy, and disoriented, but he's almost at the end of the line, so he's running out of options.

Still, he's doing a lot better than he thought he would.

Wade still feels like shit most of the time and sometimes, when the pain is too much or his chest feels too tight or he just can't breathe properly because of the lack of oxygen in his lungs, Wade can't help but wish his body would just give up and stop fighting already.

It's difficult and it hurts and it makes him feel weak and pathetic, but… fuck it. It is what it is.

"No offense," Logan says dryly. "But this shirt is a mess, princess. Don't worry about it. I'll bring ya one of my clean ones."

"Hey, can you bring that one? Is it clean already? You know which one I'm talking about," Wade says pointing at the gray plaid shirt hanging over the chair near the window.

Logan turns and grabs it.

"This one?" He asks and Wade nods.

"Yes, this one," he smiles, watching Logan shake the shirt and fold it over his arm. "I like the color and the fabric is so soft! It's super comfortable."

Logan's gaze is fixed on the shirt, and for a few moments, he just stays like that, in complete silence, as if his mind was wandering somewhere far away.

Wade looks at him in silence, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just walks over to where Wade is sitting on the bed and helps him change into the clean shirt, pulling it over his arms and back gently and buttoning it up carefully.

"This shirt… Scott gave it to me," Logan says quietly when he finishes buttoning up the shirt.

Wade's heart tightens and he looks at Logan's eyes.

"Scott gave me this shirt a long time ago, and it's the only thing I have from him." Logan looks down at the shirt and his hands slide over the fabric slowly, lingering over the buttons for a few moments. "He said he saw it at the mall and that it reminded him of me. He said it was my style."

Logan chuckles at the memory and shrugs his shoulders, his expression saddening slightly.

"Oh. I shouldn't be wearing it then," Wade says apologetically, reaching out to unbutton the shirt. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Logan stops him, gently holding Wade's hands in his and pulling them away from the buttons.

"Don't," Logan whispers, shaking his head slowly. "It's fine. It looks good on you too."

Wade smiles faintly and looks at their hands, then back to Logan's face again.

Logan looks calm but his eyes betray him.

His eyes look sad and suddenly, Wade feels the urge to hug him tightly and tell him that everything will be alright. 

But Wade knows it's not like that, right? In fact, he's about to die and the idea of leaving Logan behind like Scott did hurts his heart so much.

That's the worst part, you know?

Knowing that after he's gone, the ones who will suffer are those he loves; the ones Wade would do anything to keep happy. 

Maybe Wade's departure won't matter as much as Scott's, Jean's, or Charles' did, but it doesn't change the fact that saying goodbye always sucks. Wade hates goodbyes, and for the first time, it's going to be him leaving instead of someone abandoning him. That feels worse than anything else.

Logan looks at him in silence and he wonders if he realizes that hands are still holding Wade's own and his thumb is caressing the back of Wade's hand absently.

"I'm sorry that my educated wish didn't work out," Wade says suddenly, letting out a slow breath and leaning back against the pillows behind him. "I know how much you wished to fix—"

"It's not your fault, princess," Logan says hoarsely and takes a step forward, closing the distance between them until he is standing directly in front of him. "You know it's not your fault, right?"

Fuck, Wade hates when things get emotional and it's happening way too often lately, but this time... he can't help himself. He feels his eyes welling up with tears and he curses mentally as he looks down, biting his bottom lip.

"Maybe," Wade mumbles, wiping a few tears that escaped with the back of his hand and chuckling as he shakes his head. "Yeah, maybe. But still… I wish I could give you that before I… well, you know. You deserve that."

Logan frowns and takes his face in his hands, wiping the tears off his cheeks with his thumbs.

"You don't need to give me anything else, Wade. You own me a damn thing and you should think about yourself more often." Logan lets out a heavy breath and shakes his head slightly as he stares at him. "I want you to stop worrying about me and just… listen to me, okay? Listen to me carefully."

Wade swallows hard and nods slowly, looking into Logan's eyes and blinking a few times to clear his vision.

"Okay," he whispers, licking his lips and letting out a soft sigh. "Okay, I'm listening."

"I know this is shitty for you. I know it hurts," Logan whispers and he sounds so... raw and sincere that Wade's heart clenches inside his chest. "So, you should allow yourself to feel that way. You don't have to pretend to be strong in front of me. For fuck's sake, cry, scream, curse whoever you want, but don't bottle that shit up."

Wade feels tempted to accept the suggestion. His eyes think it's a brilliant idea, especially since the traitorous bastards are already filling up with tears again. His heart is begging him to let out those bottled-up feelings, but Wade is stubborn and won't give in so easily.

The last item on his bucket list says he should laugh at his own misfortune, and that's what he intends to do. 

Smiling is the best way to cope with tough situations, and nothing beats a genuine smile, right? 

Is he suffering? Hell yes. Is he getting screwed over? Of-fucking-course. But he's a princess, so he suffers with style, making jokes about his own misfortune.

Because, you know, laughing at his own shit is a lot better than crying and moping around, and that's exactly what his asshole-brain is trying to make him do.

He won't give in, though. He's a princess and he will fight that shit with his teeth and claws.

God, Wade wishes he had Wolverine's claws right now. How awesome would that be? His cancer would totally be afraid of him if he had them!

"I'm not bottling up shit, okay?" Wade chuckles and waves his hand dismissively. "Stop worrying, grumpy kitty. I'm fine. I'm a big boy and I'm handling this like a boss. The final boss, okay? Like, the biggest, most epic boss you've ever seen.You know Bison, the final boss in Street Fighter 2? Or Ogre in Tekken 3? Well, I'm that huge, bossy and intimidating monster. The most powerful boss of all time! No one can beat me in a fight, baby. Not even you."

Logan rolls his eyes and Wade smiles wide.

"Well, not at the moment," he adds with a smirk. "So I hope you'll keep these steak knives of yours safe until I recover, okay? Then I'll kick your ass again and show you that I'm stronger than you. In fact, as soon as I'm better, we should resume the fight we started in that Honda Odyssey because I never forgot about it! And when I win, you'll have to cook dinner for a week!"

Logan looks at him for a few seconds in silence and finally smiles softly, shaking his head and sighing as he closes his eyes.

"You'll only win if I let you win, princess," he says quietly. "You'll only win if I let you win because there's no other way you're beating me in a fair fight."

Wade stares at him incredulously.

"Are you…? Oh my god, you're an arrogant little shit, you know that?" He asks indignantly. "Just because you're the oldest here doesn't mean you're automatically the best! You're old, but that doesn't make you better. You're like a fine wine, and that's good, but still... I am pretty good myself! And, unlike you, I'm not a grumpy old man."

Logan smirks and tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess."

"You're so arrogant! So damn full of yourself, aren't you? Well, I'm going to prove that you're not the strongest guy in this house! Not anymore." Wade snorts, folding his arms and staring at him defiantly. "We'll see how smug you'll be after I kick your ass. Oh, yes. Just wait for that day, you cocky bastard. I won't even need my guns or my katanas! Nope, my bare hands will be enough to kick your ass and put you in your place. Then we'll see who's the best, and trust me, I won't need to fake-win."

"Sure," Logan says, and it's clear he's not buying it. "Whatever you say."

"Argh, I hate you so much! You're such an annoying, cocky jerk," Wade grunts and Logan chuckles as he stares at him.

Logan almost makes Wade forget about everything and just focus on their little banter, which is kind of amazing.

When they're together, the pain becomes somehow more bearable and the days seem to pass a little faster, so it's not all bad, right?

Although there's a small part of him, the dark and twisted side, that reminds him that, yes, it is all bad. It's terrible, because the faster the days go by, the closer he gets to his death.

The truth is that every minute counts now and the days are slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Sometimes, it's difficult to focus and remember that these moments are his last ones, that every second is precious and that the clock is ticking.

Still, every single minute is a blessing. Every time they spend together, every smile and joke... It all counts.

The good memories and the bad ones.

Every second of every day is an opportunity, and Wade tries his best to make the most of it.

He smiles as much as he can, because smiling is his superpower and his shield.

His shield against the pain, the fear, and the loneliness.

"Hey, grumpy kitty. I want to bake a cake. Will you help me?" Wade asks, tilting his head slightly. "My bucket list says I should bake a cake, and you can't make a cake without eggs and flour and shit. You need all the ingredients, so I'm going to make a list. A shopping list! Yeah, a shopping list. I wish I could go buy the things myself, but well, it's not going to happen, is it?"

Logan looks at him in silence for a few seconds and nods.

"I can do that," he says, and he doesn't look happy about the prospect of leaving the house, but still, he doesn't complain. "Write the list and I'll go buy the stuff. But I'm warning you, princess. I'll probably suck at this, so you'd better not expect anything fancy."

Wade smiles and shakes his head.

"I suck at it too! It's been a long time since the last time I baked something," Wade says and chuckles. "But it's gonna be fun, okay? I feel like I'm Gordon Ramsay or like I am a participant of The Great British Bake Off! I love that show. Do you know it? Well, it's amazing. We should watch it some day. It has fourteen seasons and we should totally watch all of them."

Logan smiles softly and nods.

"Maybe," he says, and Wade can't help the wide grin that breaks across his face. "Maybe we should do that."

"Great. It's a date," Wade says, smiling as he picks up a pen and a piece of paper from the bedside table and starts writing the list.

Neither of them has much of a clue about what they're doing, and Wade needs to sit down every few minutes to catch his breath (and make the occasional bathroom run), but it's undeniably fun.

Okay, it's also boring and a very labor-intensive, but it's enjoyable in a way because Logan is determined to make the cake perfect, and Wade finds that adoravle.

To be honest, Wade is more of a hindrance than a help—getting flour all over Logan’s face, cracking an egg and dropping bits of shell into the batter, and cursing whoever posted this recipe on Cookpad for not specifying whether the sugar should be refined, crystallized, or brown.

Without Logan, Wade wouldn’t have bothered greasing the pan or adding the baking powder.

"What have you been doing all this time as an X-Men, Logan? You should open a patisserie or something!" Wade exclaims as he watches Logan fold the whipped cream into the icing, his face creased with concentration.

"This is an one time thing," Logan says firmly. "And I'm not opening any patisserie."

"Why not?" Wade asks, blinking. "You should totally open a patisserie! You would have lots of customers. They would eat the cakes and sweets you made every day, and then there would be the sign on the wall saying 'Come visit our kitchen'! People would come to see your kitchen, and then run away when you growl at them because you're always grumpy! It would be hilarious!"

"Shut up and add the chocolate chips," Logan growls, pointing at the bag of mini chocolate chips on the counter. "We're almost done. And I'm not opening a fucking patisserie."

"Yes, yes you are." Wade protests, "And I have the most amazing name for it. Logan's Pawsserie. Because huh, wolverine. And paw."

"Wade. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Logan grunts, looking at him. Wade can see he's barely holding back his laughter, though, so it doesn't sound so threatening. "Now add the chocolate chips or I swear to God I'll kick you out of the kitchen."

"I don't wanna! I wrote strawberries on the list. This cake is supposed to have strawberries, not chocolate chips!" Wade exclaims, pointing at the recipe on his phone screen.

Logan growls and takes the bag of chocolate chips from his hands, putting a generous amount of them into the icing and opens the refrigerator to take the bowl with the strawberries.

"Here are your goddamn strawberries. Have a feast, princess," Logan grunts as he puts the bowl in front of him.

"Thank you," Wade replies and looks at the bowl, his expression softening as he stares at the strawberries.

They're bright red, plump, and it looks like Logan took the time to pick out the best ones. Wade isn’t sure if Logan knows how to choose fruit (hell, Wade definitely doesn't), but he must have asked a market employee for some advice.

And yes, the thought that Logan went out of his way to get the best for Wade makes something inside him feel warmer, yet tighter at the same time. 

It's a kind of dual feeling, you know? 

It brings about an annoying ache that he obviously chooses to ignore, but it also makes Wade realize how fortunate he is to have people like that—people who care about him, even if he probably doesn't deserve it.

In fact, Wade has no idea what makes him deserving of these people in his life, but now isn't the time to start questioning it, right? He doesn't have much time left, so the important thing is to cherish the people and the good moments they bring. 

Why they're there? Well, that doesn't really matter right now.

So Wade just smiles, thanking Logan silently as he takes the bowl and places it next to the chocolate chips, so that both ingredients are within his reach.

Then Wade lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and smiles, taking one of the strawberries from the bowl and looking at it for a few seconds before raising it to his mouth.

He has always loved strawberries. They are his favorite fruit and eating them always makes him feel a little better.

Or at least that used to be the case, before the cancer messed up his taste buds and turned everything bland, tasteless.

These strawberries don't taste any different than all the other bland stuff he eats these days, but it's still nice to remember what they used to taste like before the cancer showed up and decided to ruin his life.

The red juices drip down his fingers as he bites into the strawberry and he closes his eyes to enjoy the flavor, swallowing it down and licking his lips.

Fuck, Wade misses his sense of taste so damn much!

He misses all of it, but his sense of taste is right up there with his sense of smell.

And, yes, he remembers every single detail about it and he'd give anything to taste things like he used to, but there's nothing he can do about it anymore. But at least he can enjoy this memory of it, right?

Wade licks his lips and smiles at Logan, taking another strawberry from the bowl and placing it between his teeth, offering it to him with a hopeful expression.

He half expects Logan to shake his head and mutter something about him being a clown, but he surprises him by moving closer and accepting the invitation.

Logan steps closer to Wade, taking his face in his hands and leaning forward to take the strawberry with his teeth. His gaze is locked with Wade's for a few seconds as he bites into the strawberry, then Logan pulls back, chewing and swallowing it as he watches him.

And fuck.

How dare Logan do that when Wade is feeling weak and frail?! His heart is hanging by a thread, you know? He can't handle moments like this! Their lips barely touched—a soft, almost imperceptible brush of Logan's mouth against his, leaving him craving more.

Wade feels an overwhelming urge to kiss Logan properly—to press their lips together and bask in the warmth radiating from him, but then he suddenly realizes he can't.

 Something is holding him back, and it's not his physical limitations or even his desire. It's there, begging Wade to take the plunge, but… he doesn't.

And he doesn't understand why.

Logan is right there in front of him.

Right. Fucking. There.

It would be easy to do it. So easy.

Just lean in a little and then—

No.

Wade doesn't do it.

Yes, he's dying and yes, there's nothing he wants more than to kiss him, but he doesn't do it.

Why doesn't he?

Well, that's the question.

That's the fucking question, right?

Because the answer is obvious.

"Are you okay?" Logan asks and Wade looks away, swallowing hard and nodding.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he says, smiling.

He isn't, but there's no need for Logan to know that.

There's no need to tell him that his stomach hurts and that the world is spinning around him.

"Are you sure, princess? You're very pale," Logan insists and Wade can't help but smile at that, because how can he not when Logan is so caring?

"I'm fine, I'm just tired, you know?" Wade answers and sighs, shrugging. "Don't worry, I'm not going to faint on you. You don't have to keep asking me if I'm okay, okay? Just relax. You're starting to remind me of my mother, and that's not a good thing. I think you'd scare her, actually. She was a small, frail woman and—"

He doesn't get to finish the sentence.

A wave of pain surges through him and Wade can't suppress a whimper, clutching his chest and closing his eyes tightly as he tries to breathe through the pain.

It's like an electric shock, except worse.

Much, much worse.

It feels like he's been shot.

Shot.

It's funny, but that's how it feels.

Like a bullet piercing his flesh. It's a familiar feeling, but infinitely more intimidating without his healing factor.

His legs feel like they're about to give out, and Logan immediately wraps his arm around him and helps him back to his feet, holding him tightly.

"I've got you, princess," Logan murmurs. "Come here, let's get you back to the bed, okay?"

Wade wants to protest. He wants to say he wants to finish the cake and kiss Logan and eat all the strawberries and then watch Netflix until late at night, but the pain is too great, and the truth is that all he wants to do is lie down, close his eyes and sleep. Forever.

Breathing becomes a conscious effort and his eyes water, a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His lungs hurt like a bitch and something is coming out of his mouth—something thick and dark and sticky, and Wade coughs, bringing his hand up to his mouth and wiping it.

And then he freezes.

Fuck.

There's blood on his hands.

Oh my god, no.

Not again.

Please.

Wade closes his eyes tightly, gasping for air and clutching his chest. It's fucking humiliating to be like this—to feel his body giving up on him.

To have his knees buckle and his muscles ache.

Worse: it's even more unbearable to be dying in Logan's arms.

Despite his dire state, Wade can still make out Logan's expression through his increasingly blurred vision. It's a look Wade has never seen before—not with such intensity and clarity.

Logan's face is twisted in something resembling fear, shock, or something Wade can't quite identify because yeah, he's too busy dying.

Huh, what a mess.

Of all the scenarios Wade envisioned for crossing over, this is the absolute worst. He'd rather go in his sleep—in peace, quietly and discreetly. No witnesses, no tears, no goodbyes. But no, Wade can never catch a break. Of course he has to go out with a bang. A huge, messy, disgusting bang.

He can't help but chuckle, despite the situation, because seriously. This is too much.

Wade is dying. He's dying, and there's blood all over his hands.

He's dying and he can't even breathe.

He's dying and his heart is going crazy, and Logan… is he crying!?

No, no, no.

'Please, don't cry', Wade wants to beg. 'It's bad enough as it is.'

He knows it's stupid.

Dying is painful. It's not something anyone should have to go through alone, especially not Wade. But fuck, Logan doesn't deserve to be there and watch him die.

And yet he is, and it's heartbreaking.

Wade doesn't want Logan to watch him die.

He doesn't want him to watch his body give out.

But there's nothing he can do, and that's the hardest part.

"Hey, hey, princess. It's okay. You'll be okay, I promise. Everything will be okay," Logan says, holding him tighter, and Wade wishes he could believe that.

But Wade smiles and nods nonetheless.

He has already accepted his death.

He knew this day would come, and he's ready for it. But it seems that Logan isn't afterall.

Logan doesn't seem ready to say goodbye to Wade, even though he knew it was inevitable. But… that's life, right? People die every day, and the world keeps turning. Wade's existence is insignificant to the universe. Hell, maybe the universe will even be better without him—without his killings, his ridiculous jokes, endless chatter, and horrifying scars.

But in the end… leaving is painful, isn't?

Wade can't help but wish he had more time—just one more day, one more hour. He doesn’t even know if it would make a difference, but he longs for it all the same. He needs to kiss Logan and take him on that date. He needs to live a little longer and watch that episode of The Great British Bake Off that makes Logan smile and call him a brat.

Fuck, Wade needs it. He needs it so much.

But he knows it's time to go.

There are still a few items on his bucket list—things he wants to do before he dies—but now is not the time for that. Maybe he'll try some of them another time. In another life, perhaps? Who knows?

He hopes there's another life afterall. And he if it does, he hopes he has the chance to meet all these amazing people again—maybe in better circumstances.

Better circumstances. Huh.

He closes his eyes and leans against Logan's chest. Even now, he hears his heartbeat. It's beating fast, so fast Wade can't tell the difference between the beats, but he forces himself to count them. One, two, three, four...

They are strong like war drums and Wade takes comfort in that, listening to them as they beat rapidly, marking time until the inevitable end.

It's comforting in a way—almost hypnotic, like a lullaby.

The perfect song to accompany his last breath.

Maybe he could stay a little longer just like this—with his eyes closed, breathing in the scent of Logan's skin as his heart slows down and his pulse fades away into oblivion.

This isn't such a bad place to die, is it?

It's a selfish thought, but Wade can't help but smile as Logan holds him in his arms.

He wouldn't mind dying like this—in the arms of someone who means so much. 

"Wade…? Hey, are you still here? Can you hear me?" Logan whispers in his ear and Wade opens his eyes slowly, raising his head to look at him.

For a moment, Wade thinks he's dead, and that he's seeing an angel—one with big wings, claws, and a hard face. He giggles at the thought, coughing out a laugh.

"Stay awake, please. Help is on the way, but you gotta stay awake," Logan continues, shaking him slightly and Wade shakes his head, trying to clear it a little. "Can you do this for me, princess? Come on. Open your eyes."

Wade does as he's told.

Logan is still there and he's not an angel. His eyes are bloodshot and his jaw is tense. Wade lifts his hand to touch his cheek, his thumb brushing against the rough skin and he smiles.

Logan isn't an angel, but he's real. He's really there with Wade, and that's more than enough to make him happy.

"Guess I won't finish my bucket list, after all," Wade mutters, wheezing, his voice barely audible as he struggles to speak. 

He looks around and realizes they're still in the kitchen. Whipped cream covers the floor, and strawberries are scattered everywhere, likely from when Wade tried to steady himself. It's a shame to waste food like this. What would his mom think?

Oh, right. She would say there are so many people in the world starving, and here’s Wade, playing with his food.

He can't help but giggle, but Logan doesn't seem to understand why. He frowns, tightening his grip on Wade's waist.

"You have to stay awake, princess," Logan repeats and Wade smiles, looking into his eyes and caressing his cheek.

"I… I think that's enough. I'm ready. I'm so tired, grumpy kitty. Sleeping sounds nice, doesn't it? Don't worry, I'll wake up tomorrow and make us breakfast," Wade whispers. "Pancakes with chocolate syrup and lots of whipped cream."

"Please, Wade, stay awake. Help is almost here," Logan says, shaking him a little.

"Would you rather have eggs?" Wade continues. "Eggs sound nice, too, right? They're full of protein and shit, so maybe I should make that instead, huh? Your muscles need the extra protein, don't they?"

"What else? What else would you like to eat? Just stay awake a little longer, okay?" Logan says, his tone firm, but there's a hint of desperation there, too.

"Hmmm, how about… chimichangas? Yeah, that's a good idea. You'd love them, I'm sure. We can have a Mexican themed dinner, and—"

Wade coughs, cutting off his own sentence. More blood comes out of his mouth, dripping onto the floor. He brings a hand to his chest and groans. Fuck, it hurts so much. It's a deep, excruciating pain, and he doesn't want to endure it anymore.

"You'd look sexy in one of those big Mexican sombreros, you know? Very hot," Wade adds, his voice cracking. "You can wear it and I'll take pictures of you. And we can drink tequila and eat all the chimichangas we want."

"Yes, sure, princess. Whatever you want. Anything. We'll do whatever you want, just… please, stay awake, okay? Stay awake, baby boy."

Baby boy?

Is Wade's mind playing tricks on him, or did Logan just call him 'baby boy'?

Huh, well, isn't that sweet?

A nickname for his final moments.

It makes him feel special and loved, and he feels like smiling, even though he's in pain.

He smiles nonetheless and lets his hand fall from Logan's cheek, his fingers brushing against his skin and his lips until they finally reach his neck. Wade wraps his fingers around his neck, touching the collar of his shirt, and he sighs.

"Don't call me that," Wade mutters, a smile lingering on his lips.

"What? Baby boy?"

Wade nods and coughs again.

"Yeah, stop it," he whispers. "How can I leave you when you call me that? It's not fair."

"You're not going anywhere," Logan replies and Wade chuckles, closing his eyes.

"Is that so? I'm not leaving?"

"No, you're not. You're going to be okay, Wade. I've got you."

Somehow, Wade believes him.

He does close his eyes though. His eyelids are heavy, and he just wants to sleep. Forget about the pain.

Logan is saying something. He's shaking him. His voice is loud and his words are harsh, but Wade doesn't listen to them. He can't. He's fucking tired.

And it's just so warm in the kitchen, and Logan's arms are so comfy.

Wade feels like he could sleep forever in them.

That wouldn't be so bad, would it?

So that's what he does.

He does wake up again though.

When he opens his eyes, he knows he didn't die, because he's still in pain and he feels like shit despite the haziness clouding his brain.

He knows he's not dead because there is a steady beep coming from somewhere and the ceiling is too bright and white and clinical-looking, and there's something in his throat.

"Hey, baby. Welcome back," someone says and after a while, Wade recognizes the voice.

His vision is blurry, but he sees a figure standing by the bed.

It's Vanessa.

It's her, and she's smiling.

And she's crying, too. Oh, fuck.

She's crying, and he wants to tell her not to, but he can't.

There's something in his throat, and it's so uncomfortable.

"Shh, don't try to talk. You've been intubated, so the doctors have to take the tube out. I'm sure you'll feel better then, okay?" Vanessa says and Wade nods, closing his eyes and surrendering to the exhaustion.

Wade is in and out of consciousness after that. He's not really aware of the passing of time.

Everything is fuzzy and strange and his body doesn't respond to his commands.

Sometimes, he opens his eyes and Vanessa is there. Sometimes, Colossus is the one by his side.

Sometimes, he opens his eyes and sees Dopinder, Weasel, Ellie or Yukio. Peter or other X-Force members visit him, too.

And since opening his eyes, Wade hasn't seen Logan.

Not once.

Wade wants to ask about him, but he's been more out of it than awake. Besides, it's not like Wade can really blame Logan for wanting a break, is it? 

Not after what happened in the kitchen.

It feels like ages ago… but maybe it's only been a few days—just a handful of hours. All he knows is that time is blurring together, leaving Wade to wonder…

What's the purpose of continuing like this? Is there any meaning in existing without truly living?

In the end, Wade couldn't escape the reality of his final days—trapped in a bed, surrounded by tubes.

This is the harsh truth for people like him, isn't it?

He was naïve to think it could be different for him, that his departure would be peaceful, at home, and surrounded by friends.

It's likely to happen without warning, when he least expects it, because his consciousness is barely there.

And it's a terrifying thing, dying like this.

"Nessa…" Wade opens his eyes and whispers.

"Hey, hey. You're okay, baby," Vanessa murmurs, smiling at him.

"Please… if something happens again… I want to leave a 'no resuscitation' order."

"Wade, nothing is going to—"

"Please," he repeats, looking at her. "Don't try to revive me. This my all I ask. Please."

Vanessa's eyes water, but she nods, and Wade sighs, closing his eyes again.

He closes he eyes, so he wouldn't have to see her cry, and he keeps them closed for a long, long time.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for not loving you the right way and for being selfish and hurting you." Wade opens his eyes slowly, turning his head to the side. "I took your love for granted and I never cherished it. I'm sorry."

Wade sighs and closes his eyes. Another item from bucket list crossed off:

'Apologize to Vanessa.'

"You're a good man, Wade. You're my favorite person in the world. And I will always love you. Remember that, okay?"Vanessa says and takes his hand, holding it tightly. "Remember that I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispers. "God, I wish you weren't here."

"But I am," Vanessa replies, squeezing his hand.

"It's a terrible sight, huh?" Wade asks and Vanessa chuckles, shaking her head. "At least my face looks better? I mean, I'm still not a supermodel, but you can kind of look at me without cringing, right?"

"Wade… with or without your scars, you're beautiful. I hope you realize that," she replies, kissing his hand.

Wade doesn't believe that, and it seems his expression makes that clear.

"I mean it," Vanessa insists. "And even if you can't see it, you have to believe it, okay? You're beautiful, Wade, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Wade nods, smiling and closing his eyes.

"Logan—" Vanessa starts but stops when Wade shakes his head, a sad smile lingering on his lips.

"Tell him thank you, okay?" Wade asks. "For everything. Tell him I'm sorry for ruining our cake and coughing blood all over the kitchen. I swear I'm going to make it up to him. Maybe we'll have another shot at making a cake sometime. Or pancakes. Yeah, pancakes. He seems to like pancakes."

"Wade, I—"

"Or maybe not. Perhaps he's reached his limit with the amount of Wade-ness he can handle. I can't really blame him, can I?" Wade manages a faint smile through the oxygen mask covering half of his face. "I bet that day in the kitchen will haunt him with nightmares for a long, long time."

His voice carries more bitterness than he intended, and he shifts his gaze to the window. It’s snowing outside, isn't it? 

Yes, Wade can see it—white flakes steadily accumulating on the windowsill, covering the buildings outside like a soft blanket.

It's like a Christmas card—all snowy and pretty like in the movies—like the one Wade sent Dopinder last year. Which was a stupid idea because, duh. Dopinder is a Hindu, so his beliefs don't involve celebrating Christmas. But hey, that didn't stop him from sending gifts, did it?

Dopinder is the sweetest guy. So of course, Dopinder thanked him and gave him a present, too.

What a great guy. Wade hopes everyone finds a friend like him.

"Wade, Logan cares a lot about you. When the ambulance arrived, he refused to let go of you," Vanessa explains, "and when we got to the hospital, the nurses had to push him away and put him in a room so they could take care of you."

"Really?" Wade quips, "So, where is he now? Not here."

Despite his bitter tone, Wade doesn't blame Logan or hold any grudges for his absence. 

They weren't born attached at the hip, and hell, Logan doesn't owe Wade a damn thing, okay?

Sure, they've been through some crazy shit together, and yeah, Wade thinks they have a connection, a strong one, but that doesn't mean anything, does it?

Of course not.

Wade has doesn't need a physical connection with Logan to be happy.

All he needs is the knowledge that Logan is happy and well and living his life in the best way possible. That's more than enough for him.

And honestly? If Logan were to visit him right now, what would he even say? Would he lie again and tell Logan that he's going to be fine? Tell him that he's not going to die?

Or maybe Wade would apologize again and ask him to leave?

Either way, Wade knows it's better this way.

The best for both of them.

It will hurt less if Wade's last image of Logan isn't his bloodshot eyes, wet with tears as he begs Wade to stay awake.

He knows how much Logan hates looking weak and vulnerable, so he's doing them both a favor.

It's better this way.

So, instead of allowing Vanessa to continue explaining things she doesn't understand, Wade touches his head and feels a soft woolen beanie covering it. Colossus brought it over some time ago—was it a day ago? Two? Wade doesn't remember, but he's grateful nonetheless.

Colossus said he knitted the hat himself. A chunky and warm piece with a pompom on top, perfect to protect Wade from the cold. It's ugly as hell and Vanessa said it makes him look like an alpaca with the orange and white stripes—Wade doesn't give a shit.

It made him laugh, though, and Colossus seemed so proud of that, smiling and telling Wade that his hair would grow back eventually, but in the meantime, he could use something warm on his head.

He loves it, even though it's ugly as fuck and maybe it makes him look ridiculous, but it's a gift from a friend who cares about him, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Wade might be a tiny bit jealous that Colossus knows how to knit though. It's not fair! He has such big fingers that make his hands look like bananas—how can he knit? It makes no sense!

Wade is totally going to ask Colossus to teach him how to knit once he's better, okay?

He's going to make matching alpaca hats for the whole X-Force, for Dopinder, for Weasel…

And he's going to make one for Logan too.

A blue and yellow one.

And a scarf too.

Yeah, a scarf and a beanie hat for Logan, who would hate them but wear them anyway because he secretly loves them, but would never admit it out loud.

Yes, that would be nice.

Wade will make sure to do that once he's better.

(A guy can dream, can't he?)

And actually, Wade should make another list.

A list of things Wade wants to do when he's better.

Yes, that would be great, because it will make him feel like he's planning for the future and not writing a final testament—which is kind of what it is anyway, isn't it?

Now that Wade thinks about it, that's something people tend to do when they're close to dying, right? Write their testaments and stuff like that?

Wade would totally write a testament if he had any money to leave behind. Maybe he should've started saving money while he had the chance. Now all he can leave behind are some pictures, tons of guns, his crappy apartment and some furniture. Oh, and his Deadpool suit. That's some really high quality stuff right there.

Logan would look so hot wearing it.

Logan would look sexy as fuck wearing only the red-and-black spandex suit that would be too tight on him and outlining every single muscle on his body and—

Wade lets out a cough, pain shooting through his body. He breathes slowly, trying to ignore the sensation, but it's hard. Fuck, it hurts so much.

He closes his eyes, breathing shallowly against the pain, and Vanessa murmurs something soothing, squeezing his hand lightly. He opens his eyes a few seconds later, looking at her. He smiles tiredly and he doesn't even realize when he falls asleep again.

Wade is vaguely aware of time passing. Most of the time, the morphine takes the pain away, but when it doesn't, he feels like he's drowning and there's no way to swim out of it.

He often drifts between awareness and unconsciousness, and sometimes he wonders if he's in a coma.

He thinks he might be because there are so many strange images in his head—bunnies hopping around him while people he knows are laughing and cheering, and there are also fireworks, and they're so loud and colorful. There's a kaleidoscope of colors and faces and weird stuff that keeps dancing and floating in his mind.

But then Wade realizes that he's not in a coma—that the hallucinations are probably caused by the drugs flowing through his veins. Wade wonders how many types of drugs the doctors are giving him—just to make the pain more manageable and keep his stomach from rejecting whatever liquid goes into his system.

Because yeah, Wade has reached a point where he can no longer eat solid food. 

Whatever it is, it's all going in through a feeding tube. At least, when (yes, 'when,' not 'if') the worst happens, the doctors will hopefully honor his 'do not resuscitate' wish. Wade hopes so. It's one last act of mercy, or something like that.

When he opens his eyes again, he isn’t sure how much time has passed since he last woke up. All he knows is that the pain is still there and, yes, he is still dying.

But… someone is holding his hand. It's a firm, rough grip, too calloused to be Vanessa's delicate touch.

He turns his head and opens his eyes. The first thing he sees is a pair of dark eyes and a sharp, deep frown that Wade has seen before.

And it's just… it's a sight Wade thought he would never see again, and he thought that maybe it would be better for Logan to stay away from him and his messed up life, but… but it's still so good to see Logan here beside him.

It feels like a fucking Christmas miracle—just like those sappy movies Wade likes so much. And maybe it's just another hallucination, but Wade will take it.

He doesn't mind having a hallucination of Logan holding his hand like this and staring at him so intently, with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.

"You… you are here." Wade blinks and tries to clear his blurry vision, looking at Logan's face. He squeezes the hand holding his own weakly, barely able to muster the strength for that.

"I'm here, princess," Logan says in a deep voice, still frowning and pressing Wade's hand tighter.

"God… I… I thought I was going to leave without seeing you one last time." Wade's voice cracks as he speaks, but he doesn't care because it's so, so good to see Logan, even if it's only in his head.

"I'm here," Logan says again and there's a hitch in his voice. "I'm here, baby boy."

Wade wants to talk and tell Logan all the things he still has to say, but the words are stuck in his throat, refusing to come out.

Because fuck, Wade was fucking sure he was ready to leave the world but now? Now he doesn't want to go, not when Logan is here with him.

Wade looks at him—at his beautiful brown eyes, his messy hair, his wrinkled skin that Wade has dreamed about kissing again for months…

Logan is here holding his hand tightly—his real hand, not a hallucination or a fantasy in Wade's mind—and it feels so damn good that Wade feels like he's going to start crying at any moment now.

But he doesn't.

Instead, Wade smiles and closes his eyes, relishing the warmth of Logan's hand on his own.

Wade hopes he gets to feel it until the end.

But despite his best efforts, Wade can't stay awake for long.

He sleeps for a while, and when he wakes up, Logan is still there, still holding his hand firmly. He looks like he hasn't moved at all, and Wade wishes he could say something—anything to show how happy he is that Logan is here with him now, but no words come out.

Wade never realized how fucking hard it is to speak with the oxygen mask covering half of his face… it makes everything so much harder, doesn't it?

"Wade," Logan says softly and squeezes his hand. "You awake?"

Wade smiles at him tiredly, nodding and squeezing back the best he can.

Logan nods and pulls the chair closer to the bed. "I know it’s hard for you to talk, so just listen to me, okay?"

Wade gives a slight nod and closes his eyes, focusing on the comforting baritone of Logan’s voice.

"I… I was selfish and did something you might not agree with or accept. But… I was desperate, and I had do something, you know?" Logan starts, his voice raspier than usual. "I tried to honor your wish to go in peace, but… I was just being the same coward who turned his back on the X-Men, wasn't I?"

Wade wants to protest, to say no, that it's not the same thing goddammit, but Logan doesn't seem to expect an answer.

In fact, he seems lost in his own words, as if saying them is extremely difficult.

Well, it must be, right? Logan isn't the most open person in the world. He's worse than Cable, and that’s saying something!

"So I… I went out there, trying to find a way to save you. Whether it meant curing this fucking cancer of yours or… something else," Logan continues, and Wade's heart skips a beat. "Hank said he couldn't cure your cancer. Even for him, it's impossible. He mentioned he's tried countless times but never succeeded."

And that says a lot, doesn't it? Because fuck, Hank McCoy is a damn genius, but even he can't cure cancer? Isn't that one hell of a bastard of a disease?

Wade is just that lucky. The luckiest of all. Well, Domino might have him beat in that department. (Yes, contains irony.)

Logan takes a deep breath and gently grips Wade’s hand with both of his, and damn, that weary look in his eyes shatters Wade's fragile heart into a thousand pieces (not the Pym particles, mind you).

"And you know what? I was willing to do anything to save you." Logan continues in a husky tone. "Anything. I'd offer to cut my life short with my claws so you could live a few more years if I could."

And oh God, that shouldn't make Wade's stomach flutter and his chest burn with emotion, but fuck, it does.

"Some weeks after the whole mess with Charles' sister, that TVA woman… B-15, was it? She came by, said they decided to make an exception for me and allow me to… fix my shit back in my own universe. You know, like going back to where I should've stayed to begin with and bring all those people I let down. Said this is something a guy called Loki would do or something like that."

Oh, Wade knows that feeling way too well, okay? The guilt of letting so many people down and failing so miserably time after time and making promises that he can't keep and—

Wade opens his mouth, struggling to speak, but Logan is faster than him.

"I had one shot. One travel to the past, and I had to choose what to do," Logan says, and it's weird that he's saying so much at once, but Wade doesn't really mind it because it means Logan is opening up to him. And his voice is nice, isn't it? So damn nice. "I could go back and save them from those damn Sentinels and maybe… maybe I would've saved myself as well. Not become this pathetic old man who couldn't save anyone."

Oh no. No, no, no.

Wade refuses to let Logan think like that, because he's not pathetic and he's not old, okay? He's not old at all! Look at those abs! He's like an Adonis, really. Like, his body is perfect!

But before Wade can say that, Logan shakes his head and squeezes Wade's hand.

"You know what I did?" Logan asks, but he doesn't really expect an answer. "Nothing. I did fucking nothing."

What?

Logan holds his hand tighter, staring intently at Wade. "I did nothing and gave the TVA woman my one and only chance at fixing things away because I… I was happy here. In this universe. With your friends… with ya."

Wade's heart is beating so fast that the EKG monitor seems to be malfunctioning. He gazes at Logan with wide eyes, willing himself to remain awake and focused so he can listen to Logan's words.

"You made me happy in this fucked up universe and I… I wanted to stay here. With you," Logan continues, and he doesn't look away from Wade for even a second. "So I… I was driven by my own selfishness and asked B-15 to use this chance to try and save you instead. Somehow, to do something—anything. I traveled to the past and went after him. After the guy responsible for giving you your mutation. Project Workshop or some shit like that, right? Ajax, that bastard's name, ain't it? I didn't get the timing right, though. By the time I got there, his lab and his research were already burnin' down and you weren't there anymore."

Oh.

That was probably some time after Wade escaped from there.

In fact, Wade remembers that moment very well—remembers how he was trapped in a burning building with all those bodies and experiments around him and how he wanted to just stay there and forget about how hideous his body looked and how no one could ever love him.

"Logan—" Wade tries to speak, but he doesn't get to say anything because Logan cuts him off.

"Let me finish, princess."

Wade nods, swallowing dryly.

"The serum they gave you in that place was destroyed in the fire and I had no other way of getting a sample. I was too late." Logan's expression twists, his eyes dark and his lips forming a thin line. "But I do have a goddamn healing factor inside me, don't I?"

Oh.

Oh!

No.

No, no, no.

Don't tell him that Logan did that—

"So yeah, I didn't care about what would happen to me. I didn't care about the risk, or about the chance that it wouldn't work at all." Logan's eyes gleam, his face full of determination. "So I forced the bastard to take a sample of my DNA. It wasn't easy and the he was pretty fucking tough. But I managed. I beat the shit outta him and everyone who tried to get in my fucking way and forced him to do it. Then I came back and gave the sample to Hank, hoping he could do something with it. And… he did it."

"Logan." Wade struggles to speak. He wants to tell him how crazy that was and how dangerous and irresponsible and fucking reckless that was, but he can't speak properly. "Why… why did you do that? You… fuck, Logan. You had your chance to go back, and… and save the ones you cared about, and be better, and—Fuck, you shouldn't have wasted it with an idiot like me. You shouldn't—"

"I wanted to, princess." Logan holds Wade's hand tightly and leans over him, bringing his face close. "I wanted to."

And fuck, there's something about the way Logan says those words and looks at him—with so much intensity and affection and everything in between—that makes Wade want to cry.

"Logan… that was your second chance, goddammit," Wade manages to say, his voice hoarse and weak. "You shouldn't have done that. Not for me."

"But I did," Logan replies and, God, Wade wants to cry so badly. "This is my second chance, princess. Here. I've been a miserable son of a bitch for years. For decades. I've lived through so many shitty things, and I'm done with it. I'm tired of seeing people die and being left behind. If I could save you… or at least try, I was gonna do it. Scott, Jean, Ororo… they've all been gone for a long time, and I couldn't change anything. They were dead and I couldn't save 'em. But you… you're different."

And it's like a punch to the stomach.

"Yer still here, Wade," Logan says, and there's this softness in his eyes and a hint of a smile on his lips that makes Wade's heart ache. "I didn't give up and I'm still trying. We both are. But then…" Logan trails off, a shadow of pain passing over his face. "Then B-15 showed my all the shit you went through just to get rid of your scars. The hell you went through… I saw how much you hate them and you were ashamed of yourself and—"

"They're ugly," Wade mutters, lowering his eyes. "I know they are, Logan. Don't need to remind me."

"I saw it all, Wade," Logan says, sounding so serious. "I saw how much you struggled with it. How much you hated your own skin and wanted to get rid of it. It was like a stab to the chest, seeing all the shit you've been through. They made me realize that I'm a selfish bastard, only thinking about myself. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to you, and I didn't consider your feelings. Is this really what you want? Or am I just being a selfish jerk again?"

Wade stays silent. There's no denying that the physical effects of his mutation have always bothered him.

Accepting the scars doesn't mean he loves them.

And, well, not hating something doesn't mean one loves it either.

But those scars… they're a part of him. His entire body is a canvas of pain, and his skin isn't the prettiest one out there. And accepting it doesn't mean it gets easier, you know? 

Still, Wade is grateful for them, somehow. They keep him grounded and remind him of what happened in the past and what he has been through and… he kind of likes it. It's comforting in some way, to have these reminders of the past forever on his skin.

Wade totally wouldn’t mind having Thor's face or body or Steve Rogers' because those guys are fucking hot. 

But now… now he realizes that he wouldn't mind having his own body just as it is. Even with all those scars on display, it's his own body and it's always been his own body, hasn't it? And yeah, he hates his scars sometimes and he wants to cover his entire body in a fucking bag, but… but now?

Now he doesn't hate it as much as before, because if he was in Logan's place?

He would've done the same thing.

He would've wanted to save Logan with his last breath—give anything to try and save him. Even if it meant going through hell and back just for the smallest chance of succeeding.

And Wade understands Logan's decision because, fuck, he would've done the same damn thing!

"Logan," Wade tries to say, but he doesn't get to continue because Logan's face twists and he squeezes Wade's hand so tight that it actually hurts for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Logan whispers. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby boy. I disappeared without telling anyone where I was going—and I didn't even know if I'd come back to find you still alive, goddammit. If I could turn back time, I wouldn't have done any of this, baby boy. I would have just stayed with you like I promised, and at most… at most, I would have asked whoever in charge for this to take me along with you. I'm so fucking sorry."

Wade didn't think he'd ever hear an apology coming from Logan of all people, but oh well. Now that he does, he feels like shit—like the worst person in the entire multiverse because Logan is being so understanding and caring and holy shit, Wade doesn't deserve him at all.

"Logan," Wade whispers. "You have nothing to apologize for, grumpy kitty—You know what? You do have something to apologize for. You went on a multiversal/time-travel adventure without me?! How rude! I thought we were best buds! This is an injustice! A real shame, mister!"

Logan doesn't laugh or smile or anything like that. Instead, he moves closer and reaches out to cup Wade's face tenderly, caressing his cheek with his thumb.

"Do you forgive me, princess?" Logan asks in a hoarse voice, and oh, he seems so sincere that Wade feels like a complete asshole.

"Of course I do," Wade says softly, trying to smile through the oxygen mask. "Let's just stick this needle of yours on me already, huh? Let's get this over with. I've made you suffer for long enough, grumpy kitty."

"Baby boy—"

"What?" Wade cuts him off. "Do you want all of this adventure of yours to have been in vain? Hank wouldn't have wasted time trying to develop some mutant-y stuff from your healing factor if I was just gonna kick the bucket like this, huh? So let's make it count, alright?"

Logan doesn't seem to share his enthusiasm, though. In fact, he just stares at Wade with that frown on his face and those gorgeous hazel eyes that seem so full of life and so damn expressive, damn it!

"Are you sure? Is this really what you want?" Logan asks again, searching Wade's face for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

But Wade nods quickly, holding Logan's hand close to his face. "Absolutely. Are you sure you're ready to look at my ugly scars for the rest of your life? That's not a small task, you know?"

Logan smiles for the first time since they met again, and fuck, he's beautiful and Wade's heart feels so light for the first time in ages and—

"I don't give a fuck about your scars," Logan says in a husky voice, his breath warm against Wade's face. "You're a fucking princess even with them."

Oh.

Oh wow.

Wade's heart is beating so fast he wouldn't be surprised if Logan could hear it. "Is it just me, or does that sound like a confession or something?"

And fuck. Wade didn't mean to say that out loud, but who can blame him for being stunned when Logan is right there, looking gorgeous and saying things like Wade being a princess and that he wants to die alongside him? 

Wade is a mess, and his mouth runs wild in the worst situations, okay? No surprises there.

Logan doesn't say anything at first, but he doesn't pull away. He just keeps his hands on Wade's face, gazing intently at him. "What if it is a confession, princess?"

What?

Is this happening for real?

Because, no, Wade can't possibly be dreaming, right?

"Well," Wade begins, his stomach flipping. "It would make me the happiest man in the whole multiverse. And maybe the luckiest one too. Even with cancer munching my cells like a greedy fat bastard."

"You have no idea how much I missed ya," Logan murmurs, his thumb tracing Wade's lower lip. "Hell, I can't believe I came to point in my life where I'd rather have you - of all people - than anyone else."

"Well, what can I say? I'm irresistible," Wade says and, okay, it comes out as a breathless whisper because he's a bit distracted by the fact that he is in a lot of pain and Logan's hands are so big and warm against his cheeks and that the roughness of his fingers against his skin is really pleasant.

"Yeah," Logan agrees and, wait, is he coming closer or is Wade hallucinating again? "You're a fucking nuisance and I hate your guts, but I'm crazy about ya, princess. Fuck, I'm gonna regret saying this for the rest of my life but fine, whatever. I'm crazy about ya, alright?"

"Logan," he breathes, and he can feel his heart beating so fast in his chest that it's starting to hurt.

"I want to be with you. As long as possible," Logan continues, and his voice is low and rough and Wade is definitely melting. "I know it's stupid and this isn't a fucking fairy tale, and I ain't Prince Charming or some shit like that, but damn. I want to be with you. For better or worse. I know I'm not making any sense, but… shit. I can't believe I'm saying this. You're annoying and talk too much and your jokes are the worst, and you're a fucking nuisance—but I want to spend the rest of my fucking life with you. Even if it's just as friends. Just let me stay with ya, princess."

Wade can't help it. He starts crying.

It's lame and he looks fucking ugly when he cries, (even more than usual, if that's even possible) but he can't stop. He's tired, and he's in pain, and Logan's words are just too much for him.

"I'm not leaving you again, baby boy," Logan whispers, and then he leans forward and kisses the top of Wade's head, over the beanie he's wearing.

And Wade just bursts into tears.

Again. Hell, Wade is such a loser, isn’t he?

Logan doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, he just holds him close and stays there until Wade is a sobbing mess, and the room is silent again.

Wade can't bring himself to say anything. Not for a while. Which is unusual for him, considering that he's usually the one to never shut up, but oh well.

"Logan," Wade eventually murmurs, and he doesn't care that his voice sounds so weak and broken and pathetic. "The feeling is mutual, okay? Just—yeah. It's mutual."

Well, this is pretty pathetic, right? After all, Logan has said so many wonderful things to Wade.

Yet here's Wade, the Merc with a Mouth, unable to express everything he wants to.

 It's not just the pain or his weakened state; it's… a mess in his head. He has feelings he's aware of, but the words get tangled up in the chaos of what he wants to say and what Logan deserves to hear.

In that moment, his mind is flooded with scattered thoughts—words like happiness, freedom, relief, love, affection. They drift like clouds in his mind, and Wade can't seem to piece any of them together into something coherent.

Or maybe they are. Coherent, that is.

At least to him, even if Logan probably wouldn’t understand. But perhaps, in some way, he might.

Because Logan gently lowers Wade's oxygen mask and presses his lips to his.

The kiss is short and sweet, but Wade swears he can feel it. It's not the kind of kiss one would expect from Logan, who seems so rough and violent.

This one is gentle and tender. It's so simple, yet so overwhelming. It makes Wade feel all sorts of things he's sure no other person has ever made him feel. Not even Vanessa. 

Vanessa is a part of his life he never wants to forget, Logan… well, this grumpy asshole is someone special. Someone who means the world to him, and fuck.

Wade is such a lucky bastard, afterall, isn't he?

Logan is rough and dangerous and a bit scary, but also so, so tender and sweet and gentle. And Wade just feels like a fucking princess all over again.

The kiss ends as quickly as it began as Logan pulls away and places the oxygen mask back on Wade's face, his fingers lingering on his chin.

"Alright, grumpy kitty. Let's do this." Wade is smiling now, even though his voice is muffled. "Just get the damn syringe and shove it into my veins. Let's make me prettier and less cancer-y, huh? You'll thank me later."

"I'll kill you if you die, baby boy," Logan mutters, and it's supposed to be threatening and scary, but it comes out more like a prayer than anything else.

"I'd love to see you try," Wade replies and, yeah, he's grinning.

Even when he's in pain and dying, he can't help himself.

Wade Wilson is an idiot, afterall.

Logan is quick. He grabs the syringe, and before Wade can change his mind, he injects it into his arm.

The pain is blinding, and Wade can't hold back a pained scream. It's worse than being cut with a sharp blade. It's like thousands of needles stabbing him from inside and tearing him apart.

He writhes and twists on the bed, his nails digging into his palms.

He's dying, isn't he?

Wade doesn't want to die. Not like this. Not after everything that happened.

He can't—

"Wade."

A warm hand takes hold of his, and Wade forces his eyes open. His hands are shaking, and he can't breathe, but he doesn't miss the way Logan is looking at him.

He doesn't want to die.

"Don't you fucking dare, princess," Logan says, his grip on Wade's hand tightening. "You're not leaving me. Not again. Hold on, baby boy. Come on. Just hold on. Breathe, dammit."

"Can't," Wade gasps. "Hurts. I can't—"

"Yes, you can," Logan says firmly, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of Wade's hand. "Hold on, Wade. You're stronger than this."

"Grumpy kitty," Wade rasps. "If I die—"

"Shut up."

"Stop interrupting me, jeez!" Wade says, glaring at Logan. "Listen to me, alright? If I die, I want you to move on and live your life. Don't spend the rest of it mourning a dead loser like me, okay?"

"Stop talking, baby boy," Logan mutters. "I'll fucking kill you if you die. That's a promise, princess."

"So mean," Wade breathes, and his body is still wracked with pain, but Logan's touch helps ground him.

He's not dying.

Not now, at least.

Maybe it'll take a while, but the pain is getting duller and the fire in his veins is starting to fade, and soon enough, it'll be just another memory.

"I hate you," Logan grumbles, his gaze fixed on Wade. "I hate your guts, but I can't live without ya, princess."

"Well, good news. I'm not dying," Wade says and, wow, he sounds so tired. "Guess you'll have to put up with me for a while longer, grumpy kitty."

And then the pain is gone. It's almost unbelievable how quick it disappears. The fire in his veins is replaced with something else, and Wade can breathe again.

His hands are no longer trembling. He looks at them and yes. The scars are back. They are just as bad as before.

He's no longer the pretty boy with the smooth skin. He's Wade Wilson again, with his scars and his fucked-up body. He's Deadpool again, and it's not the worst thing ever.

He might be fucked up and scarred and ugly and insane, but he's not dead.

And if Logan regrets kissing Wade after remembering how hideous he is, then it's not like Wade can blame him.

But at least Wade gets to live.

At least Wade can have the chance to see Logan every day and maybe even hear him calling him 'princess' again, even if it's just a joke. 

Even if it doesn't work out, Wade is still lucky to have a friend like Logan, right?

Right?

"Wade?" Logan's voice cuts through the haze in his head, and Wade looks up.

"Hm?"

Logan smiles. Actually smiles. Like, an honest-to-God smile.

It's gorgeous, and Wade wishes he could capture this moment in time and live in it forever.

"Welcome back, princess."

Yeah. Wade is the luckiest bastard in the entire multiverse.

And any doubts Wade might have had about Logan being into him after Wade's skin is restored to its regular appearance, all goes out the window when Logan leans in and kisses him.

Hard.

On the lips.

With tongue.

It's not like the last kiss, no. It's demanding and hungry and intense.

Logan is a fucking beast, and it's not the first time Wade has thought this, but wow. This time, the kiss is like a fucking tornado.

The world could end and Wade wouldn't care. In fact, the cancer could come back, and he'd still not give a damn because Logan's tongue is exploring his mouth and Wade feels like he's in heaven.

"Wade," Logan groans against his lips, and the sound is so raw and possessive that Wade shivers.

"What is it, grumpy kitty?" he breathes.

Logan doesn't reply at first, choosing instead to continue kissing him. Which is not a good idea because Wade is still laying in a hospital bed and is probably hooked up to all kinds of machines, and this is not exactly the best place for this sort of thing, and—

Fuck all this shit. It's a goddamn amazing idea and he's sure Logan wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone who tried to interrupt them.

"I fucking love you," Logan growls, pulling back just enough to speak.

Oh.

Wow.

Okay.

That's…

Yeah.

Wade is going to die. He's gonna have a heart attack or something, and he'll be dead.

For real this time.

This time, there's no way to bring him back.

"You're such a sappy romantic," Wade chokes out, and he doesn't miss the way his voice cracks. "You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, huh?"

Logan laughs, and the sound is so genuine and bright that Wade's chest hurts.

"Well, yer a pretty girl, so don't blame me," Logan teases, nipping Wade's lower lip.

"Not pretty, but I wouldn't mind being your girl, grumpy kitty," Wade whispers, and he doesn't miss the way his face heats up as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Fuck, that was cheesy.

"Except… I have a dick, so I hope you're into some sort of transgender action, or this is gonna be a whole lot weirder than I originally thought," Wade adds and, oh god, is his mouth running away again? "But I guess I can do the crossdressing thing if you're into that sort of thing. I'd totally look amazing in a dress, by the way. What do you think, grumpy kitty? How about a Little Mermaid-themed cosplay, huh?"

"Wade," Logan says, and there's a hint of a warning in his tone.

"I can make it work," Wade continues, not paying any attention to the other man. "I have the legs for it, and I'm sure we could find a wig somewhere, and maybe I can find some red contacts, and—"

"Wade," Logan growls, and there's no mistaking the edge in his voice.

"You don't have to answer now, but it's an offer, alright?" Wade says, his stomach twisting into knots. "Just—yeah. Don't worry. I can do the crossdressing, and the wigs, and the fake boobs. Just say the word, grumpy kitty."

Logan shakes his head and lets out a laugh, and Wade's heart stops.

Wade is gone, okay?

Logan is gorgeous when he smiles.

And the laughter? Oh, hell.

This is too much.

Too damn much.

"Fuck, Wade," Logan sighs, his expression softening. "Ya know what? Whatever. Let's do it. We're both fucking alive and together, and if ya want to wear a goddamn dress and pretend to be a mermaid, then fine. Whatever makes ya happy, princess."

Wade grins and takes the beanie off his head, tossing it aside. He opens the drawer beside his bed and fishes out the Hello Kitty tiara Logan gave him and slips it on.

"Alright, grumpy kitty," Wade begins. "I'm Princess Deadpool, and I'm here to save you from a sad, boring life of loneliness. So, you ready to have the adventure of a lifetime? Let's just escape through the window! What do you say? Wanna get out of here and never come back? Off to Neverland! Adventure awaits us, my handsome Prince Charming."

"Fine, whatever," Logan grumbles, but he's still smiling.

And he's not trying to stab Wade with his claws yet, which is a win, really.

(He wouldn't mind though, honestly. It's kinda hot, and he can heal now and, well—)

"I'm glad you're okay, baby boy," Logan says, and his voice is soft.

And then Logan leans down and presses his lips to Wade's again, and yeah.

Wade is more than okay.

He's no longer the pretty, broken prince who has a curse and a death sentence hanging over his head.

He's Deadpool, a broken, scarred Merc, but he's free and healthy and not dying.

And the best part?

He's got a grumpy, gorgeous Wolverine who loves him.

In fact, it's fucking Christmas, isn't it?

And Wade is so, so lucky.

This is definitely a happy ending, huh?

Well, maybe not the happily ever after type, but it's not bad.

Not bad at all.

Yeah.

This is a good ending, alright.

He'll take it.

Hell, he'll take anything if it means being with Logan.

Fucking hell, he really loves this asshole.

Chapter Text

**A BUCKET LIST OF WISHES AND THINGS TO DO BEFORE I DIE**

1. Eat as much chimichangas as I want, no matter the calories

2. Watch the best movies of all time, in sequel: Ghostbusters, Star Wars, Terminator, Back to the Future and of fucking course, all Harry Potter films.

3. Take a hot bubble bath and enjoy it.

4. Learn the art of calligraphy and write my name.

5. Buy the entire Hello Kitty collection

6. Get a tattoo, a cool one.

7. Try sex toys. (New toys, duh)

8. Make a cake with strawberry icing and decorate it with sprinkles

9. Have a picnic

10. Tell Vanessa I am sorry, and that she is an amazing woman and I took her love for granted.

11. Tell Colossus he's an idiot, and thank him.

12. Tell Weasel that he's a dick, but a good friend and he will need to take care of Dopinder.

13. Tell Logan...

13. Try to kiss Logan, even if it's on the cheek.

14. Don't forget to laugh at my own misery.

Wade smiles as he crosses off item number fourteen and thirteen from his list and spends a few moments staring at the notebook in front of him.

In the end, he really did kiss Logan, huh? Actually, much more than that. No, they haven't gotten to that part yet.

Yes, the part you're all eagerly waiting for.

But hey, they'll get there eventually. (Given the arousal level between them, it'll likely be sooner rather than later.)

It's just that the right opportunity hasn't come up yet. Hell, Wade isn't an innocent virgin or a modest altar boy (quite the opposite, as we know), but damn, there's something special happening here and Wade doesn't want to ruin it. Yes, for the first time, he's thinking before acting (quite a lot, actually).

Besides, Wade's near-death experience left a mark not only on Logan and himself but on everyone who was there—smiling even when they wanted to cry, trying to keep their spirits high because they knew it was important to Wade, and witnessing all the unpleasantness: constant vomiting, delirium, coughing fits with blood, and everything else that made those days so grim as cancer ravaged Wade from the inside.

That’s why Wade makes sure to spend time with each of them, trying to somehow make up for the suffering they endured. (In a very Wade-ish kind of way, but hey, he's trying, okay?!)

So, he doesn't spend all his time with Logan. Nope, he visits Weasel and Dopinder often. 

Weasel still has a hard time not being an ass, and Dopinder is as enthusiastic as always — and it's great.

It's good to know he can count on his friends, you know?

He visits the X-Mansion too (begrudgingly, but still) and spends time with Colossus and the other weirdos who live there. He thanks Hank for saving his life and the blue mutant blushes, and Wade thinks it's adorable.

Logan actually growls when Wade tells him, and it's funny how territorial the old guy is. Like… he acts as if Hank was trying to steal his prey or something, and it's the funniest thing ever.

Of course, the old fart still refuses to admit he's jealous.

Wade doesn't care though. It's still hot.

Logan looks hot when he's jealous, but Wade swears he didn't call Hank an 'adorable, big, blue teddy bear' on purpose. It just happened, and Logan growled and glared and, well…

He kissed Wade senseless, as if to remind him that Wade belonged to him and no one else. Hah, like Wade could ever forget that.

As if.

But hey, this little… disagreement (if you could even call it that) leads to a nice little session of 'straddling-your-boyfriend-and-biting-his-jugular' that is surprisingly satisfying. Wade learns that Logan is not only the type of guy who would press someone against a wall and take the charge, but he's also a guy who would sit on Wade's lap and grind down onto him while they kiss until they're both breathless and painfully hard.

(Maybe Wade should mention a thing or two about Hank again. Maybe then Logan would do that thing with his hips again, and maybe even growl against his neck, and—)

No.

Stop.

Nope.

Bad Wade.

Wade shouldn't tease Logan like that.

It's a horrible, awful idea. Logan is already jealous enough, and he could stab him or something, and it's not like Wade would die (probably), but still.

That would suck. And that would also be hot, but mostly suck.

Every now and then, Logan agreed to accompany Wade on one of his visits to the X-Men mansion. Wade knows it's not Logan's first time there—after all, he had met Hank before (when he was... well, dying)—but visiting for leisure is something entirely different, you know?

It must be painful for Logan to see familiar faces that are, at the same time, so unfamiliar. That's his family, but not really. That's his home, but not really. That's his Scott, his Jean... but not really.

Damn, Logan is brave for being there, even though that place might stir up painful memories, right?

The X-Men seem to like having him there. It's probably a bittersweet feeling, huh? They like him, but he doesn't belong there. Charles had this enigmatic smile when Logan first arrived, and he looked like he knew something no one else did.

Wade thinks Charles is a creepy telepathic stalker.

Logan never mentions not wanting to be there, nor does he talk about the pain it causes him. But the way his gaze becomes more vacant and lifeless when he sees the kids coming out of a class with Colossus speaks volumes about what he must be feeling in those moments.

Hell, Wade understands that feeling all too well. And thinking about how Logan gave up on saving these people—these mutant kids—in his universe to be with Wade... well, Wade isn't quite sure how to feel about that.

It's not guilt or anything. Well, maybe. Okay, so it is a little bit of guilt. A lot of guilt, actually. But hey, no surprises here. Wade is good at doing things that makes him feel guilty. It's one of his many talents, right?

It's just that Logan gave up his chance to have all that back, and now he's just watching it happen, but it's not happening to him.

Logan doesn't say anything about that, either. He just holds Wade's hand tighter, as if seeking comfort.

Wade doesn't ask. He can't. Not now, at least. They need to work on their communication skills first, and hey, Wade can do that.

(At least, he thinks he can. Well, he can try, right?)

But Wade is not a fool, okay? He knows what Logan gave up for him.

Hell, it's not something a person can easily get over. And it's not like it's something Wade is gonna forget about.

It's just…

How do you repay someone who's given you the world?

You can't, okay? You can't.

Wade wants to give him everything.

Anything.

He knows he can't. Wade has nothing to offer except a few inconvenient jokes, silly puns, and endless chatter.

But that night, he holds Logan and doesn't let go. Wade isn't sure if Logan understands his intention or what he's trying to convey with that embrace, but Logan accepts it nonetheless. Logan holds him back, kissing his forehead and lips.

And just like that, Wade's doubts dissipate like smoke, carried away by the wind. Wade lets himself be kissed and pulls Logan closer. He loses himself in Logan's mouth, his body, his warmth, his everything.

He ends up straddling Logan's hips while the other man bites his neck, his hand roaming Wade's scarred body, mapping it carefully. He stares at Wade with such a hungry look, but not the kind of look you have when you're desperate for sex, no. It's much more than that. Logan stares at him like he's the most precious thing in the world, like he can't believe what he's seeing and doesn't want to let it go.

Fuck.

Wade isn't sure if he deserves that look.

(He doesn't.)

But he likes it.

(He likes it a lot.)

They don't end up doing anything other than kissing that night (sadly), but it's okay. Logan seems to be enjoying it, and well— Wade is enjoying it too.

(Wade might be having a serious blue ball situation for the rest of the week, but well. Who cares? He likes kissing and making out with Logan, okay? It's not about getting off.)

Logan seems to have taken it upon himself to be Wade's personal pillow. Well, Wade doesn't mind that at all. He loves cuddling. There's something so soothing about waking up with Logan beside him, with his head resting on Logan's chest and those strong arms wrapped around him.

Sometimes they sleep in Wade's room, and sometimes in Logan's (since it's larger, so they have more space). It doesn't really matter where they are, to be honest.

Wade likes when Logan is the one to initiate their snuggling sessions, because he tends to pull Wade close as if he couldn't get enough of Wade. There's something so special and intimate about those moments, with Logan holding him close and spooning him from behind (or allowing himself to be spooned, which Wade loves even more).

Wade feels safe and protected, and he wants to Logan to feel the same way, too.

Not that any of them need protection, since they're both deadly weapons or something, but still.

Yeah, you know what? It's good. It's good to be in each other's arms like this, especially now that they're both healthy and well and he's no longer dying of cancer.

"What are you doing, princess? Pondering life and shit?"

Wade is pulled out of his musings when Logan comes into his room and places a kiss on top of his head, making him smile.

"Hey!" Wade protests and puts the notebook aside, getting up from the bed. "No peeking!"

Logan chuckles.

"You're writing me a love letter or something, baby boy? You shouldn't have."

Wade laughs.

"You wish, asshole," he teases and presses his lips to Logan's. "I was looking at my bucket list and there are some items I still need to cross off. There's this one thing—"

"Wade." Logan becomes serious all of a sudden.

"Huh?"

"Do you still think you're gonna die? Even after all the shit we went through?"

Wade pauses for a moment.

"Well, I don't think so, no," he finally says. "But I wanna finish my list, you know? I mean, it's a nice reminder of everything I've done. So, can we go to a picnic tomorrow?"

"Sure, princess," Logan agrees and kisses Wade again. "Who are you inviting?"

"Uhm, no one. Just us. You, me, and lots of delicious food. What do you say?"

"Just us?" Logan smirks. "So, you're asking me out on a date, but trying to pass it off a picnic?"

"Oh, shut up, you ass. Yes or no?"

"Okay," Logan laughs and Wade pouts, punching his shoulder.

"Don't be an ass," he grumbles, but it doesn't really have the effect he was hoping for, since his voice is muffled by the fact that he's pressing his face against Logan's neck, nuzzling his nose there.

"Hmmm," Logan hums, clearly amused. "But you like my ass."

Wade giggles.

"Yes. Your ass is fucking amazing, babe. Can't wait to see what's underneath these jeans," Wade murmurs and gives a little squeeze, just to make his point.

"Are you talking about my boxers or—"

"Or you know, whatever you're wearing underneath." Wade winks. "Which I really, really hope it's a g-string."

"Why the fuck would I wear a g-string?"

"Uhm, because you're a sexy, sexy beast?" Wade smiles, running his hands over Logan's firm back. "It would make your ass look even more glorious."

"You're fucking crazy, Wade," Logan groans, but it's more fond than exasperated. "I'm not wearing a g-string, sorry."

"Oh, you're killing me, Logan. We need to fix that," Wade teases and grabs Logan's butt, pressing their bodies together. "But if you're not wearing one, you can at least let me see your underwear."

"What if I'm wearing nothing under these pants?"

"Are you?" Wade asks, hopeful.

"No, I'm wearing briefs," Logan admits, and Wade sighs, disappointed.

"Why are you trying to ruin my life, Logan? First the g-string and now you're saying you're not naked under those jeans. Do you want to kill me? Is this the final part of your evil plan to destroy me? If so, I must say you're doing a really good job. I'm dying, here, Logan. I'm dead."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Wade. Stop talking," Logan laughs and kisses him. "And no, I'm not trying to kill you. If anything, I'm trying to make you stop talking. Is it working?"

"No, it's not," Wade murmurs against his lips. "But don't stop. You're doing great, babe. Keep going."

"Brat." Logan teases and deepens the kiss. 

Fuck. Logan's kisses never fail to make Wade weak in the knees and dizzy with want. He opens his mouth eagerly, accepting Logan's tongue while pulling him closer.

And for a moment, it's just them—Logan and Wade—this. This beautiful thing they're creating. It's theirs alone, and it belongs to no one else.

It's in their every touch, their every kiss. It's in the way they hold each other; the way they laugh together and tease each other, or the way they smile against each other's lips.

It's theirs.

Only theirs.

And Wade will be damned if he ever lets anyone take it from him or ruin it.

Even himself.

Especially himself—Wade Wilson, the king of self-sabotage and ruining the good things in his life.

Logan pushes him against the bed and climbs on top of him, straddling his hips while they kiss, and Wade's heart is beating so fast and so loud he can't hear anything else. It's just them and the sound of their ragged breaths as they start grinding against each other and—

God, it feels so good.

Wade loves having Logan's weight on him, the way it feels to have his legs around his waist—fuck, the things it does to Wade—and how Logan's hands feel against his body. Logan has large and rough hands, and it drives Wade crazy whenever he touches him. They are surprisingly gentle and caressing when they stroke his scarred skin, and Wade could swear he's addicted to the way those hands feel on him.

He moans when Logan begins kissing his neck, and Wade arches his back, placing his hands on Logan's asscheeks and squeezing them because they're there and Wade loves that ass, okay?

So round and perfect—

"Fuck, baby boy."

Wade lets out a breathless laugh when Logan groans against his neck.

"Sorry," he apologizes, not sounding sorry at all. "You have a fine ass. What do you expect?"

Logan kisses him hard and Wade whines when he starts sucking a hickey on his neck. God, Wade wishes these marks would last longer than just a couple minutes—or, seconds. This healing factor is so annoying sometimes!

"Bite me harder," Wade urges, and Logan obliges without hesitation.

Wade lets out a long moan while Logan continues marking his neck with harsh bites, growling and nibbling on his earlobe, making Wade shiver and whimper. He can feel the pressure of Logan's sharp teeth on his skin and he closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation and how much it turns him on.

Fuck, Wade is not a horny teenager anymore, alright? In fact, he's almost forty-something—he's a mature adult, and creaming his own pants is not on his schedule for the day, thank you very much—but hell if he can keep himself from getting all hot and bothered when Logan is pressing his body against him and licking and biting his neck like that.

Wade is pretty sure his boxers must be drenched with pre-come by now, and he wonders if Logan can smell it. Logan's sense of smell is incredible, and the thought of him knowing exactly how close Wade is to coming just from a few kisses and some touches... well, it makes his already hard cock twitch.

He closes his eyes, moaning shamelessly while Logan keeps pressing wet kisses against his neck. Then he sucks on Wade's collarbone and Wade tangles his fingers in Logan's hair, tugging it slightly. He can feel Logan's mouth curling into a smirk against his skin as he looks up, his eyes dark with want.

"You smell so fucking good, princess," Logan growls, and Wade groans, squeezing Logan's butt again. "Your scent is driving me insane."

Wade pulls Logan's hair harder as the other man kisses and nips at his neck again. Fuck, Wade is so hard and he just wants to reach inside his underwear and jerk himself off. But yeah, he cannot do that because his body is not cooperating with him at all, what the fuck? He wants to get off so badly, but he also doesn't want this to end so soon.

Hell, Wade knows that if he starts touching himself now, he'll probably come the moment he puts his hand on his dick—very embarrassingly fast, thank you very much. So he focuses on Logan's touches instead, allowing his mind to drift off to other things as he enjoys the feeling of Logan's hard body on top of him, moving slowly against him.

Then Logan goes for his lips again, capturing them in a deep kiss, and Wade can't help but moan into Logan's mouth as he pushes his tongue inside. 

Wade discovered two things about Logan that he never would have guessed: an incredible amount of self-control (seriously, how does he manage to make out for so long without coming in his pants?!) and an immense appreciation for kissing.

Don't get him wrong. 

Wade loves kissing, especially kissing Logan. But kissing Logan—and staying like that for a long time—is a form of torture. The good kind! But still, torture. There's a certain pleasure in it, isn't there? It's like eating spicy food. It burns like hell, but before you know it, you're craving more and more of that fiery experience.

It must have something to do with serotonin, adrenaline, or some psychological association with pleasure. Either way, kissing Logan—and being kissed by him—is the sweetest torture Wade has ever known.

He must be a real sadistic bastard because Logan isn't the type of man who starts slow and builds up as their arousal increases. 

Nope. Not at all. 

He's completely unpredictable.

Sometimes Logan is all soft and sweet, pressing slow but passionate kisses to his lips; others, he's all teeth and tongue, biting and licking at Wade's mouth until he can't think straight.

Sometimes Logan is playful and teasing, making him giggle against his mouth. Other times he's possessive and greedy, growling and holding Wade's chin to make him stay still while he licks inside his mouth and Wade melts and melts under his kisses.

And then… there are those moments where Logan would just… stay there, pliant and panting, letting Wade do whatever he wants with him. And it's… well, Wade wouldn't be lying if he said it's the hottest thing in the world. To have Logan beneath him, moaning and kissing him back just as eagerly; to have that man—that unbreakable man—capitulate so readily to Wade's touch and yielding to him so easily is just so thrilling and makes Wade's head spin and his blood rush in his veins.

Sometimes, Logan whines and fuck if Wade doesn't lose it at the sound of those delicious whimpers coming from that deep, rumbling voice. Those desperate, broken moans are even better when they are muffled by their kisses; the way Logan's whole body trembles in his arms is the best reward Wade has ever received.

Those whimpers and moans make Wade feel like the most powerful person in the world; like he could do anything if it meant that he could hear Logan say his name like that; if it meant that he could hold him like this while Logan falls apart beneath him.

Because they both know that Logan is strong enough to flip them over and reverse their positions if he wanted to, but he doesn't. He doesn't even try to. He just stays there, under Wade's mercy, trusting Wade with his entire being; giving Wade control over him while he touches him in the most intimate of places.

God, Wade is so fucking gone for him.

And it's so, so easy to lose track of time when he's kissing Logan. It could be a minute or an hour and Wade wouldn't notice. Hell, for all he knows, it could be a fucking year, and he would still be here, making out with Logan.

"You taste so good," Logan murmurs between kisses.

Wade chuckles and presses their lips together again.

"Do I? Am I sweet? Salty? I think I might taste like death right now, 'cause you know, you're killing me."

"I'm not," Logan smirks. "I'm just kissing you, princess."

"I know," Wade sighs and gives him a soft peck on the lips. "But I'm dying here, Logan. I really am."

"Oh, poor princess," Logan teases, and Wade pouts.

"Don't make fun of me. I'm a grown-ass man and I have needs."

"Really?" Logan asks, feigning innocence. "What kind of needs?"

Wade rolls his eyes.

"Are you fucking serious, Logan? Don't you have eyes and a nose?" Wade groans. "My dick is rock hard and you're sitting on top of me. So, yes. You can feel it, right? And I'm sure you can smell how turned on I am, too. So, stop playing dumb."

Logan laughs and leans in, kissing him softly.

"I do smell you, baby boy," he confesses. "I can't believe how wet your dick is right now. You're a mess, princess."

"That's what you're doing to me, asshole," Wade accuses, but his voice comes out softer than intended, so it's not nearly as menacing as he wanted it to be. "Don't blame me."

"Never, Wade," Logan agrees and kisses him again, deeper and rougher this time. 

Logan is definitely hard too, Wade realizes. His erection is pressed against his stomach, but the asshole doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

He reaches for the fabric of Wade's shirt and takes it off with one swift motion, throwing it on the floor and staring at Wade's naked torso with dark eyes. His scars are showing and Wade blushes under Logan's gaze.

Logan has seen him shirtless several times by now, but Wade still feels a little bit self-conscious about the scars. They aren't pretty, after all.

They are just one huge mass of uneven and twisted tissue covering most of his body. Ugly and disgusting.

Wade feels an irrational urge to cover himself or distract Logan from looking at him. Maybe he can say something stupid to make the other man roll his eyes and forget about Wade's scars? That's always an option.

Logan doesn't seem bothered by the scars at all. On the contrary, he leans in and starts pressing kisses all over his chest and stomach, his lips barely touching Wade's skin.

Wade watches him, confused, as Logan continues kissing his torso and then goes back to his neck. He doesn't know what's going on, but he doesn't protest either. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of Logan's mouth against him.

He kisses every inch of Wade's torso, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he goes.

"Wade," Logan breathes against his skin and Wade shivers.

He kisses the scar on Wade's right shoulder blade, and Wade whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut. He's sensitive there and Logan seems to know that because he licks and sucks on it, making Wade's breath hitch.

Logan moves down, kissing his arm, his fingertips brushing over the scars on his bicep, and Wade shudders at the gentle caress. He can feel the rough skin on Logan's fingers, the callouses on his hands as they travel across his body, leaving goosebumps wherever they go.

"You're so beautiful, baby boy," Logan murmurs, and Wade can't help but snort.

"Sure," he retorts, rolling his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, honey. But you're not fooling anyone."

Logan stops what he's doing and looks up, meeting Wade's eyes.

"I mean it, Wade. I don't give a fuck about these scars. They're a part of you, and they're the fucking reason you're still here with me so, no, I'm not going to act as if they're not here. They are a part of you, and I'm not gonna ignore them like they're some mistake we can just fix. We can't fix them, and I'm not trying to. I'm just telling you the truth and you better believe me. Otherwise I'll fucking kill you myself."

Wade stares at him with wide eyes, speechless.

That was—

Wow.

Well, if he hadn't fallen for Logan already, he definitely did now.

"That was both the hottest and sweetest thing anyone has ever told me," Wade confesses, and Logan's face softens. "Fuck, you're really taking the "killing me with kindness" thing too seriously, aren't you?"

Logan smirks and goes back to kissing his torso.

"I can kill you roughly too, if you prefer," he offers, and Wade laughs.

"Nah, it's cool. You're doing great," he says, and Logan nods, kissing his nipple and sucking on it, making Wade's breath hitch.

Oh yeah, that's much better. In fact, it's so good that Wade moans out loud when Logan repeats the movement. Then Logan takes his left nipple between his fingers, rubbing and pinching it as he licks and bites the other one.

This is when the torture starts again. Logan just doesn't seem to understand that there's a limit to how much pleasure a man can handle before he ends up exploding.

Or coming in his pants—because he's that close.

Or crying. (This is totally an option, and Wade isn't ashamed of admitting it.)

Wade knows this will end with him coming in his underwear sooner or later—especially because Logan isn't stopping at all; in fact, he's speeding up and that's just not fair, alright?!

His nipples are sensitive as fuck, so when Logan bites his right nipple particularly hard, Wade shudders and bucks his hips up, desperate for some friction.

Logan growls and licks at the sensitive bud, circling his tongue around it and biting it again. His hand goes back to Wade's other nipple, teasing and stroking it until Wade is a trembling mess beneath him.

Wade lets out a strangled cry when Logan bites his nipple again. It hurts in the best way possible and he can feel the wetness spreading in his underwear. He's so turned on right now, and he can't think straight anymore.

Logan continues kissing down his torso until he reaches the hem of Wade's sweatpants.

Fucking finally.

Wade watches as Logan mouths at his erection through the fabric, and he lets out a long moan as Logan rubs his tongue against the hard bulge. Then he leans in and begins nibbling on Wade's covered dick.

Wade cries out at the sensation.

When Logan takes off his pants, Wade realizes that he is still wearing his underwear. And yeah, as expected, they arefucking soaked.

Like… completely ruined.

God, he feels so embarrassed right now! He's really close to coming in his underwear like a freaking teenager—he can feel his orgasm building inside of him—and if Logan decides to continue with what he's doing, there won't be any stopping him.

Of course, Logan does exactly that. He lowners Wade's underwear just enough to free his dick and balls. The head isbright red, leaking pre-come, and it's so fucking embarrassing—especially when Logan just stares at it with an amused smile on his face.

Well, the least Wade expects is that Logan makes up for him, and just swallows him whole or something. But instead, Logan returns to teasing his nipples with his mouth and fingers until Wade is squirming beneath him.

"Please," Wade whimpers. He doesn't even know what he's asking for.

"Do you want me to suck your cock?" Logan asks, his voice husky and low, sending shivers down Wade's spine.

Wade nods frantically as Logan circles his nipple with his tongue. He feels a wet finger ghosting over his entrance and he bucks his hips up, pushing himself against it. Logan hums, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub before he bites it gently, sending jolts of pleasure through Wade's body.

Wade whimpers when Logan lets go of him again and starts rubbing his cock with his fingers instead, playing with his balls and tracing them lightly before moving to the shaft again. He grabs Wade's dick and strokes it slowly, sliding his hand up and down, squeezing it between his fingers as he runs his thumb over the slit.

Wade throws his head back and moans loudly as Logan's tongue licks the tip of his cock, tasting the slick fluid there. He presses his tongue flat against Wade's dick and slides it over it before taking it in his mouth fully and swallowing it whole.

Okay. It's been a while, okay?

It's been a fucking while and his own hands are nothing compared to Logan's mouth. So when Logan starts sucking him off, Wade can't help but come. Embarrassingly fast and embarrassingly hard, too.

He's not surprised though.

He's been on the edge for a while now and that was just the last push he needed. He comes with a loud cry and Logan swallows his load, lapping at his cock as he milks him dry.

"I'm sorry," Wade apologizes, out of breath. "I'm really sorry, Logan. I tried not to, but I just couldn't—"

"Sshh," Logan silences him, kissing his forehead. "You did good, baby boy. You did really well."

"But—"

"No buts," Logan interrupts him again, leaning down to kiss him softly on the lips. "I enjoyed that. A lot. Watching you lose it like that… I loved it, princess."

"Can I touch you too? I want to make you come," Wade murmurs, feeling sleepy and sated, his eyelids getting heavier by the minute.

"I already came," Logan admits, and Wade frowns, confused.

"But I didn't feel it."

"That's because I was sucking you off, bub," Logan reminds him, and Wade freezes.

"Did… did you get off on sucking me off?" Wade asks, astonished. "Fuck, that's so fucking hot! But so unfair! You can't do that, Logan! I didn't even get to see you. That's not fair."

"Well, yeah. It was kinda hard not to when you were making such delicious noises, alright? You think my self control isthat good? 'Cause it ain't," Logan grumbles, and Wade giggles, kissing his jaw.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," Wade tells him, smiling.

"Who's embarassed, huh? You're the one who just practically came in your pants."

"And you're the one who got off on it," Wade teases, and Logan growls, rolling his eyes.

"Behave. Or, no picnic tomorrow," Logan threatens, and Wade gasps.

"Oh, you can't do that, honey! Not the picnic!"

"Yeah, sure," Logan retorts, smirking. "That's the only thing I can't do, huh? I can't let you come in your pants, but I can take you on a picnic date, can't I?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Wade scolds him. "There's nothing wrong with a picnic date, and I love the idea, alright? So don't ruin it by making fun of it."

Logan smiles, and Wade's heart melts.

Fuck, Wade is having a hard time keeping his heart inside his chest every time he sees Logan's smile. He's just so beautiful when he's happy, and it makes Wade so fucking happy too.

The next morning, Wade wakes up early and begins packing for their picnic. He smiles as he pulls out the Chip and Dale thermal bag Laura gave him when she and Dopinder visited the Disney Store in Times Square some time ago.

Wade was definitely envious of their trip and regretted turning down the invitation. But then he remembered he spent the whole day binge-watching The Great British Bake Off with Logan (they're on the eighth season now, by the way), and he decided he'd visit the Disney Store with Logan another time.

Maybe he could even persuade Logan to wear a Mickey Mouse hat. Or better yet, the Sorcerer Mickey hat! That would look adorable on Logan.

He prepares sandwiches for lunch and packs some juice, cookies, and fruit, along with a box of chocolate cake he boughtthe previous day from a local bakery. 

The weather is nice and sunny, so they decide to head to the park near the house.

It's a good idea because the place is quiet, and there aren't many people around. Logan hates crowded places.

Wade lays out a blanket and places the basket in the center, taking out their food. Of course, Wade never shuts up, so he talks about everything that comes to mind, and Logan doesn't even complain.

Not even when he starts talking about Grey's Anatomy. Logan hates Grey's Anatomy and refuses to watch it with Wade, but he never complains about Wade's obsession with the show.

In fact, Logan has his own tastes Wade personally finds ridiculous, like that weird reality show where people hunt down Bigfoot and aliens.

Logan loves that shit.

Wade is not surprised that he has bad taste. Like, really, really bad taste.

He likes Wade, after all.

So, yeah. He isn't surprised Logan has bad taste.

They lie down on the blanket after finishing their food, and Wade watches the clouds floating above their heads.

"Is it just me or that cloud looks like a turtle?" Wade asks, pointing to the cloud.

"No, it looks more like a dog," Logan disagrees.

"Are you sure, honey? It doesn't look like a dog. It's a turtle, you dumbass."

"That's definitely a dog," Logan insists, and Wade rolls his eyes.

"There is a goddamn shell in the middle, you fucking idiot. What part of the shell are you not seeing?"

"There's no fucking shell. And it has legs," Logan explains, and Wade snorts.

"Those aren't legs, idiot. They're ears. And if you can't see that, maybe you should get your eyes checked, sugar."

"Turtles don't have pointed ears, you moron." Logan argues. 

"Yeah, but dogs do. That's I told you that cloud looks like a dog, honey. But you didn't believe me. So now you'll have to pay the price."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Logan grunts, glaring at him. "I was the one who said that goddamn cloud looks like a dog. You said it's a fucking turtle. So, tell me, Wade, which one of us is wrong?"

"You, of course," Wade answers without hesitation. "You are just trying to distract me. But it's not working, and I'm gonna punish you anyway."

"What?" Logan shouts, exasperated. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"It does," Wade protests, and then turns to look at Logan, who's glaring at him with narrowed eyes. "You're trying to steal my idea, you bitch. And I won't allow it. No way."

"What are you talking about, bub? Why the hell would I steal your stupid ideas? In fact, I'd thank you if you stopped giving me your stupid ideas," Logan growls, annoyed.

"See, this is what I'm talking about. You're always so mean to me. Just because I'm the one who comes up with awesome ideas like this one, and you're too jealous to admit it, doesn't mean you can try to steal them."

"Oh, for the love of god, Wade! Will you stop spouting nonsense? I didn't steal anything. And what the hell do turtles have to do with anything, anyway?"

"Well, you keep trying to steal Mary Poppins' aka Dogpool's heart away from me, and I can't have that, alright? You need to stop, Logan. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to fight you."

"Yer not making any fucking sense, baby boy," Logan sighs, and Wade rolls his eyes.

"You see, Logan, there's a reason she's called Dogpool. Because she's a dog, and I'm her daddy. She's not Doggerine or Wolvedog or whatever you want to call her. So please, stop trying to steal her away from me. Okay?"

Logan stares at him incredulously and opens his mouth, probably to say something sarcastic and mean. But before he can speak, he closes his mouth and shakes his head, giving up on arguing with Wade.

Instead, he sits up and leans over, kissing him softly.

Oh.

Okay. Wade can go with that too.

So he kisses him back, sliding his tongue along Logan's lips until he parts them and allows him access. He pulls back a bit to look at Logan's face. He looks gorgeous with the sunlight hitting his hair, making it look silver and shiny.

Wade gently tugs at Logan's lower lip with his teeth and leans forward again, capturing his lips in another kiss. 

They spend the rest of the day cuddling, taking short naps and watching the clouds. They watch some people running around and playing Frisbee or catch. Wade feels his insides twisting as he watches Logan's small smile when a dog jumps up to grab a Frisbee and its owner runs after it. He smiles again when a toddler walks past them, holding his mother's hand and waving at him.

Logan's face softens when he sees the kid and waves back and Wade's heart flutters at the sight.

Wade wishes they could stay like this forever, and he hopes this moment never ends.

God, he hopes these small moments of happiness last for a very, very long time.

It's a fleeting moment, a bubble that might burst tomorrow or the day after. But the important thing is to live in the present, right? Today, Wade is here.

Tomorrow? Who knows?

Later that night, Wade and Logan shower together and kiss until the water grows cold, forcing them to stop. They make their way to Wade's bedroom, where their shower activities are quickly resumed once the door closes. Logan doesn't mind that they're still damp, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor.

He lies down on the bed and pulls Wade close. Their bare skin meets, and the sensation is intoxicating, sending a delightful shiver down Wade's spine.

That night, Logan moans softly as Wade rides him slowly, moving his hips lazily while kissing him passionately. They don't rush their movements, taking their time, enjoying the moment and letting themselves get lost in the pleasure they're feeling.

The darkness of the room is only illuminated by the moonlight, giving their bodies a silvery glow. The sheets rustle as Wade moves, and the mattress squeaks underneath them. Their bodies glisten with sweat, their chests heaving as they gasp for air between kisses and groans of pleasure.

They kiss deeply and passionately for a long time, Wade moving on top of Logan, their bodies moving together as one. 

When Wade comes, Logan holds him close, running his hands over Wade's back and buttocks until Wade finally collapses against him.

Logan waits patiently until Wade catches his breath and then rolls them over so he can move on top of him and continue thrusting inside him until he orgasms too, filling Wade with his seed.

Wade stays awake for a long time, just watching Logan sleep, admiring his handsome features in the soft moonlight that comes through the window. He reaches out to touch his cheek gently, stroking it tenderly before placing a kiss on his nose.

He smiles when Logan mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. Then he closes his eyes and falls asleep.

The following morning, Wade wakes up to an empty bed, but the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air. He's still gathering the will to get up when he hears footsteps coming towards the door. A moment later, Logan walks in, carrying two mugs full of hot coffee.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Logan greets him with a smile on his face.

"Morning, handsome," Wade replies, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head before leaning back against the headboard and taking one of the mugs from Logan's hands.

"You hungry?" Logan asks as he climbs on top of Wade and settles between his legs.

"Mhmm," Wade murmurs sleepily and nods before taking a sip from the steaming mug.

Logan smiles softly at him and places a kiss on his lips before taking a sip from his own cup and placing it on the nightstand. Then he slides his hands up Wade's bare torso until they reach his chest and starts caressing it gently, letting his fingers wander over the scarred skin.

He runs his fingertips along the various lines and scars that cover Wade's skin, tracing patterns over them. It feels good, and Wade can feel himself relax under Logan's touch.

After a few minutes of silence, Wade speaks again.

"You know," he begins, feeling Logan's fingers still caressing his chest. "I've been thinking."

"Oh?" Logan sneers, tilting his head slightly to one side. "Can you think? I didn't know that."

Wade rolls his eyes at him.

"Just FYI, I am smarter than you."

"Keep telling yourself that, baby boy."

"I am," Wade insists. "I'm fucking smarter than you. So just accept it and move on."

Logan chuckles lightly and continues stroking Wade's chest.

Wade opens the drawer of his bedside table and takes out the notebook he keeps there. He flips through its pages, searching for what he wants to show Logan. After a minute or two, he finds it.

"This is what I was going to show you," he announces as he hands it to Logan. "My bucket list."

Logan pauses his gentle caress of Wade's chest and picks up the notebook, scanning the words written on the pages. Wade takes a pen and happily crosses off the number nine, 'Have a picnic.'

"What about item number thirteen… what were you planning to write? You crossed out 'Tell Logan...'" Logan notes, his fingers carefully tracing the lines on the page.

"Don't you know yet?" Wade replies, using the question to buy himself a moment.

Logan locks eyes with Wade, and in that instant, Wade finds himself breathless. 

He can’t quite place it, but something about the look in Logan's eyes is filled with a genuine and raw emotion that takes his breath away. It's like being hit by a train. It's intense and powerful. He doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until he suddenly gasps for air.

"I'm not sure," Logan admits quietly, averting his gaze and staring at the paper instead. "But I'm guessing it's something like this?"

He takes Wade's hand and squeezes it tightly. Then he takes the pen from him and writes one word on the page, filling up the blank space in the last item.

Wade watches him, feeling his heart beating faster in his chest. When Logan finishes writing, he hands the notebook back to Wade who looks at what he wrote.

It reads: 'Tell Logan I love him.'

Wade's eyes widen as he looks at Logan and then back at the words he wrote on the paper. Then he looks at Logan again and smiles.

"Yeah," he says softly. "Yeah, it is. This is… exactly what I wanted to tell you."

Logan smiles back and leans down to kiss Wade on the lips, pressing his lips against his with gentle tenderness and then pulling away just enough to look into his eyes.

"Good," he whispers before kissing him again.

When they break apart, Wade smiles once more and then rests his head on Logan's shoulder. 

Silently, Logan takes the notebook from Wade's hands and starts to alter the words written on it. Wade leans in, attempting to sneak a glimpse, and pouts when Logan moves the notebook out of his reach.

When Logan finishes, he tosses the notebook onto Wade's lap and diverts his gaze, striving to project a calmness that he clearly lacks.

**A BUCKET LIST OF WISHES AND THINGS TO DO BEFORE I DIE**

**LOGAN AND WADE'S LIST OF WISHES AND THINGS TO DO WHILE WE ENJOY LIFE TO THE FULLEST!**

Wade feels his eyes stinging as he reads the altered title and he brings his hand to his face to wipe away the tears that escape and stream down his cheeks. 

1. Eat as much chimichangas as I want, no matter the calories. -> FAT ASS

2. Watch the best movies of all time, in sequel: Ghostbusters, Star Wars, Terminator, Back to the Future and of fucking course, all Harry Potter films. -> PLUS THE GODFATHER, STAR TREK, ROCKY AND THE SHINING

3. Take a hot bubble bath and enjoy it. -> DO IT AGAIN WITH LOGAN

4. Learn the art of calligraphy and write my name. -> LOGAN'S WAS BETTER

5. Buy the entire Hello Kitty collection -> NEXT: PEANUTS

6. Get a tattoo, a cool one. -> IS IT THOUGH? LOGAN'S NOT GETTING ONE

7. Try sex toys. (New toys, duh)

8. Make a cake with strawberry icing and decorate it with sprinkles

9. Have a picnic -> DO IT AT LEAST ONCE IN A MONTH

10. Tell Vanessa I am sorry, and that she is an amazing woman and I took her love for granted.

11. Tell Colossus he's an idiot, and thank him.

12. Tell Weasel that he's a dick, but a good friend and he will need to take care of Dopinder.

13. Tell Logan… Tell Logan I love him

13. Try to kiss Logan, even if it's on the cheek. -> KISS EACH OTHER AT LEAST FIFTY TIMES A DAY

14. Don't forget to laugh at my own misery.

There are a few new items Logan wrote too:

15. Drink beer at the end of a rough day.

16. Read a book and take time to relax and enjoy myself.

17. Spend a weekend doing nothing but eating junk food and watching football.

18. Play hide and seek in the woods with Mary Poppins.

19. Watch the sunset

20. Tell Wade that I love him, even if he's an asshole.

Wade smiles through his tears and wraps his arms around Logan, hugging him tightly and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

"I love you," Wade mumbles against Logan's warm skin. "God help me, I love you."

"Love you too, princess," Logan says softly and places a gentle kiss on his forehead.

They stay like that for a long time, holding each other tightly and not letting go.

Wade closes the notebook and puts it on the nightstand before wrapping his arms around Logan and hugging him tight.

"Thank you," he whispers in his ear.

Logan returns the embrace, and for a moment, the two men remain like that, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness.

Eventually, Logan pulls back and kisses Wade lightly on the lips.

"You're welcome," he says quietly.

"So," Wade starts, trying to sound as casual as possible, although the smile on his face betrays him. "About item number seven… What do you think about that?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Logan chuckles and leans in to kiss him deeply. "I'm in."

"Good," Wade breathes, cupping his face and bringing their lips together once more. "That's good. I've got some ideas. It involves you and me, and a lot of lube. And maybe a vibrator."

"Oh yeah?" Logan raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"Oh yeah," Wade confirms, licking his lips. "So how about we take a shower, and then start our list, huh?"

"Sounds like a plan, baby boy."

"Alright," Wade smiles widely. "Let's go."

Next stop: sex shop.

The one after that? Who knows?

They've got plenty of time.

In fact, Wade will add a few things to the list as soon as he gets the chance.

Like:

-Get married.

-Adopt a boyfriend for Mary Poppins.

-Make Logan a dad.

And the biggest and most important wish, the one thing he will make sure will happen everyday.

-Cherish life.

Because it's all about the little moments, right? The small things, like a picnic, a hug, a kiss or a cup of coffee.

They make up the whole story of our lives, don't they?

So, yeah. That's how Wade plans to live his life.

With a scarred body, an imperfect soul, a fucked up brain, an amazing dog, a wonderful man by his side, and a heart that beats.

But first… Sex shop.

Definitely.