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Logan laughed as Hank fell onto the couch in their bedroom with a giggle bubblin’ outta his mouth, wonderin’ how the fuck someone’s laugh could make his heart feel fit to fuckin’ burstin’ ‘n then pushin’ that thought away as he moved back to close their bedroom door. He took a moment to lean ‘gainst it ‘n just watch the love ‘a his life, wishin’ his healin’ wasn’t so fast that he couldn’t get buzzed—from how Hank was still gigglin’, it looked like it could be some real fun.
“Had a good time, baby?” Logan asked, movin’ back over and takin’ the seat ‘side his husband, throwin’ an arm over the couch to rest ‘long the back ‘a Hank’s shoulders. His boy cuddled right up to his side with a happy soundin’ noise that made Logan feel real good, ‘n he let his head roll to the side so he could brush a kiss to Hank’s forehead.
“It was the best time, Logan,” Hank told him seriously, hand sneakin’ over ‘n slippin’ under his Logan’s to rub his belly, somethin’ he’d taken to doin’ over the last couple ‘a months. “I love dancing!”
“I love dancin’ too, darlin,” Logan said ‘gainst his forehead, breathin’ in a deep breath ‘a their mixed together scents ‘n feelin’ his lips tilt up into a smile.
“No you don't, you hate dancing!” Hank told him with another one ‘a his cute ass fuckin’ giggles. Logan laughed with him, reachin’ out ‘n grabbin’ hold on Hank’s wrist soon as he started kneadin’ the belly he didn’t even like havin’.
“You’re right, baby, but I love dancin’ with you,” Logan admitted, kissin’ Hank’s forehead again ‘fore he sunk back into their couch.
Hank pulled back ‘n looked at him seriously, pushin’ himself up into a kneelin’ position with a hand on Logan’s knee. “How much do you love me?” Hank asked him with a coy expression on his face that usually meant real good things for Logan’s dick.
“To the moon ‘n back, baby,” Logan told him sweetly, runnin’ his thumb over Hank’s wrist as he asked, “Now, how ‘bout we move the rest ‘a this date to our bed, yeah?”
Logan was just about to push himself to standin’, pretty sure Hank was gonna follow him ‘n turn a real good date to a real good night, when he burst out into loud, blubberin’ tears.
What.
The.
Fuck.
“Uh, darlin’?” Logan asked, wonderin’ what the hell had just happened ‘n rethinkin’ his whole “bein’ tipsy could be fun” idea.
“That’s less than five-hundred-thousand miles, Logan,” Hank told him—’least, Logan was pretty sure that’s what he said, considerin’ the fact his husband was a blubberin’ fuckin’ mess at his feet—’n then started cryin’ harder. “Y-you only l-lub m-me fi-hive hun-der-ed miles!”
Logan stared. In all their years together, nothin’ could ‘a ever prepared him for this. What. The. Fuck. “Darlin’,” he started softly, since Hank was already a cryin’ ‘n he pro’lly wouldn’t ‘preciate Logan snappin’ at him, “what the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?”
Hank sniffed, cried more, then shuttered, “Y-you only love me tha-at much? B-but that i-is so, so, so, so close?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Logan grumbled under his breath, wrackin’ his brain for the farthest fuckin’ planet, which he only fuckin’ knew ‘cause he married a goddamn nerd, ‘n said, “Uh, I mean that I love ya to Jupiter’s moon ‘n back, baby.”
Hank stopped cryin’ as fast as he’d started, which basically meant in the blink of an eye. Logan hadn’t seen a mood swing like that since Jas’d started hormones. Jesus fuck. Still, he wasn’t cryin’ ‘n he was lookin’ up at Logan with an expression that was a helluva lot more pleasant than his cryin’ face, ‘n he slowly said, “Yeah?” in a voice so hesitant that Logan couldn’t even be annoyed.
“Yeah, baby. I love you all the way to Jupiter’s moon ‘n all the way back a thousand times over, ya got that?” Logan told him seriously, ‘cause even if it was fuckin’ ridiculous, he sure as hell loved Hank least that much ‘n so much more than he’d ever know how to say in words.
Hank seemed to get what he was sayin’—either that or “to Jupiter’s moon ‘n back” really had been the right answer to his fuckin’ question—’cause his baby climbed right up onto his lap ‘n started kissin’ him. Hard. Kissin’ back, Logan grabbed Hank’s hips to keep him steady, already grindin’ his half chub up into Hank’s ass as their tongues tangled together, slippin’ his hands under Hank’s dress shirt to get at his skin ‘n shiverin’ at the feel ‘a fur under his palms, as ready to go now as he’d been when they first got together.
“I love you too,” Hank said against his lips, ‘n then neither ‘a ‘em said nothin’ for a long while.
The next mornin’ Logan left the bed ‘fore Hank’d even woken up. He could proudly say that his husband was worn out from a night real well spent ‘n he used that to his advantage. He padded in his slippers all the way to Chuck’s room ‘n knocked on the door, lettin’ himself in after a sniff made sure everythin’ was good ‘n proper. Lehnsherr was sittin’ up in bed with a book and Chuck wasn’t even in the room, so he leaned ‘gainst the door, held up Hank’s weddin’ ring, ‘n said, “I need you to engrave this.”
Lehnsherr looked at him like he was fuckin’ nuts—’n wasn’t that crazy fucker one to talk—’fore the ring floated right outta his hand ‘n Logan grumbled ‘bout manners as he walked into the suite they two ‘a ‘em lived in. He ‘n Hank’d been offered the same after their weddin’, but they liked their little bedroom ‘n their couch ‘n cookin’ in the teacher’s kitchen.
“An odd request,” Lehnsherr commented, so Logan growled at him ‘n raised ‘n eyebrow. The man laughed ‘n asked, “Alright, no need to bark, Logan. What should it say?”
“ToJupiter’smoon’nback,” Logan grumbled under his breath ‘n then at the dickbags raised eyebrow said, “I need it to say “to Jupiter’s moon ‘n back” ‘n I need it to look real nice, got it?”
Lehnsherr’s eyes went real fuckin’ wide ‘fore they settled into somethin’ more serious. Logan had no idea what the fuck he was expectin’, but for Lehnsherr to grimly tell him, “I’ve made the same mistake,” with an expression Logan was never gonna forget wasn’t it.
They stared at each for a moment ‘fore Logan snorted. Yeah, he could sure as shit see Chuck bein’ just as upset as Hank’d been ‘bout somethin’ like that. Lehnsherr chuckled too, no doubt thinkin’ the same. They shared a look that felt real fuckin’ strange, but he still engraved the message into the ring in a gorgeous script.
Sure, Lehnsherr was a dickbag, but he sure had his uses.
By the time Hank woke up—to breakfast in bed; Logan hadn’t lived through more than a decade ‘a a real fuckin’ happy marriage for no reason—the ring was back on the little holder Logan’d whittled for him a few years back when he stopped wearin’ it overnight ‘cause his finger swelled up in his sleep. Hank caught it right away, puttin’ in on as soon as he had his glasses on his nose like he did every mornin’, ‘n his eyes went real misty soon as he looked up at Logan.
He put the breakfast tray down on the end table ‘n didn’t let himself fiddle with his hands as he stood ‘side Hank’s legs, lookin’ at the man he’d loved for more than ten years ‘n wonderin’ how the fuck he’d gotten so lucky with all the fucked up shit he’d done durin’ his lifetime.
“I love ya to Jupiter’s moon ‘n back a thousand times over ‘n so much fuckin’ more than I even know how to say,” Logan told him seriously, feelin’ his eyes sting with emotion he wouldn’t have let himself feel, once upon a time. “I, uh, wanna renew our vows. Next month. It'll be fifteen years ‘n that... seems like a good time to remind ya, ‘n the whole world, how much I love ya ‘n how devoted to you I am.”
“Oh my god, Logan,” Hank whispered, then his hand was reachin’ out ‘n he was tuggin’ Logan down onto the bed, kissin’ him ‘n kissin’ him ‘n tastin’ like Logan’s home, ‘n whisperin, “yes, a thousand times over, yes,” ‘gainst his lips.