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    One day Wade walks entirely on tip toes, like a ballet dancer–what's it called–en pointe?

    “Why're you doing that,” he grunts, watching Wade carry in a load of groceries with fucking barbie feet.

    Wade winks at him. “Rob Liefeld is drawing this issue, be kind. It's all that he knows, Pookie! You’re lucky he drew them at all, and that they’re each on the right leg.”

    Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. If only he wasn't out of whiskey.

    "Besides, you love how it makes my calves look.”

    Logan glances down to watch said legs as Wade turns to deposit the bags on the counter without thinking.

    He pretends he's wrong.

    -----
    They're roommates. They're managing. Then Wade keeps trying to set him up, and something snaps.

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    21 Sep 2024