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"Oh Wolvie!" Wade called.
His tone carried well into the apartment, using a parody of a sing-song voice.
Logan cringed, almost dropping his plate into the sink. He scrubbed furiously, trying to ignore the impending doom from behind him.
"Stop calling me that." Logan snapped over his shoulder, reaching forward to grab the dish soap.
He squirted a bit onto his sponge, feeling tense as Wade drifted up beside him. Logan narrowed his eyes as Wade brushed his hand against his back, before settling it on his shoulder.
Logan awkwardly shoved himself against him, before moving back to focus on the dishes.
"I have a great idea." Wade announced.
"Usually it ends with us with bullets in our bellies and swords in your back." Logan huffed, irritated.
"But this won't lead to that, unless you want it to my darling." Wade flirted, patting against Logan's back.
Logan rolled his eyes, scoffing.
"Fuck off."
"Oh, my sweetheart, I don't think so. Listen to my great idea and let me lift your spirits." Wade hummed.
He opened his arms and reached to the ceiling, as if showcasing his 'grand' idea.
"On with it, bub." Logan muttered.
"No foreplay? Oh you know me so well, Wolvie. Alright, here we go." Wade grinned, clapping his hands together in excitement.
"You, me, dinner down main!"
"What?" Logan asked, genuinely confused.
"You know, wine and dine, walks down main street, seeing the twinkling lights of our city. You never take me anywhere." Wade whined.
"No."
"Oh hush. I've already made reservations." Wade interrupted, ignoring Logan's side-eye.
Logan let out a fake laugh, shoving the next dish into the dry-tray.
"As if I'd be caught dead having dinner with you, fuckface." Logan growled, continuing his task.
"Thankfully, you can't fucking die then!" Wade retorted.
Logan gripped the next plate, his claws threatening to break his skin. He forced himself to remain calm, remembering he had dish gloves on. Logan shoved the last plate into the tray, leaning over to turn off the sink and take off his gloves.
He spun around and unsheathed one claw, slashing down towards Wade. Wade easily dodged his attack, taking a step back and lifting his hands.
"Now, now, Wolvie. I picked a place I know you'd like. Don't worry about that." Wade grinned.
Logan snarled, readying another attack until Wade grabbed his wrist, squeezing it gently. Logan frowned, retracting his claws and shoving Wade away.
"We're not fucking doing that." Logan muttered, turning away.
"And why not? I don't even hear a real reason." Wade suggested, poking Logan into his back.
Logan scoffed, moving past Wade and towards the living room.
"Because "I don't want to" should be enough of a reason, Wade." Logan replied, slumping onto the couch.
"Reservation is at six, my dear. Oh, I can't wait. I'll have to find something to wear, and can you wear the one dress shirt you didn't claw to shit? I saw it once, I know you have one. And no, you can't rip it up now. Trust me, I'll know." Wade warned, sauntering to his room at the end of the hall.
"I said I'm not fucking going!" Logan called back, hearing a laugh and the slam of a door.
-
Logan stood in front of his small mirror, inspecting his beard. He frowned, shoving his hair back angrily. He struggled to adjust it, feeling fucking silly in the moment.
"Jesus." He muttered, reaching for his dress shirt that hung on the back of his door.
He shoved it on, rolling up the sleeves. He buttoned it carefully, leaving a few undone under his chin. He went to stand back in front of his dresser, inspecting himself in the mirror again.
"Whatever. I don't even fucking care enough." Logan mumbled, mostly to himself.
He shrugged awkwardly, trying his best to feel anything else then what he felt in the moment. Anxiety built up inside of him, enveloping him in a state of nerves and giddiness.
He hated it.
"This is so fucking stupid." He swore quietly, hearing a small knock at his door.
He took a deep, shaky breath and grabbed the handle. He turned it and opened it a slight crack, to see Wade's wide grin from behind.
"Hey there, handsome. Going my way?" Wade asked, leaning against the wall.
Logan did a small glance at Wade, noticing the surprising amount of effort he put it in wardrobe. Dress pants and a blue button up polo decorated his person, and thank God he left the toupee in his room.
He wore dress shoes, and Logan noticed he tapped them almost anxiously against the floor.
"Huh." Logan mumbled.
"Well? Are you going to invite me in, sugar pie?" Wade winked.
"No. Let's just get this over with." Logan sighed.
"Okie dokie, artichokie. Love the enthusiasm, it brings out your claws." Wade said, heading towards the front of the apartment.
Logan shut the door behind him, reluctantly following behind.
"Dammit." He whispered under his breath.
-
"So then I said, "Cable, you'll never save the MCU with Josh Brolin," but he made it happen, so I shut up after that." Wade chatted, ignorant to the uncomfortable aura Logan had.
They approached the restaurant as Wade continued on and on, the sound of his voice as loud as Logan's steady heartbeat.
His palms were sweaty by the time they went inside, his eyes shifting nervously as Wade led them to the hostess.
"Hello! Good news, we have a reservation for six and we're ordering eighty-five percent of your alcohol." Wade announced.
The hostess chuckled, grabbing menus as she directed them to the table across the restaurant. The clinking of glasses and busy chatter filled the place as they walked along.
Logan swallowed his nerves, trying to look as easy-going as Wade seemingly was.
They slid into the booth near the window, while Wade smiled affectionately at Logan.
"A couple hundred glasses of wine and you'll be right at home!" Wade chirped.
"You know I don't even drink that shit." Logan muttered awkwardly.
"Yeah, yeah. Beer and burgers, the real manly way. Thank God you're Canadian or you'd be the ultimate American." Wade joked, tapping his hands merrily on the table.
Logan grunted, looking towards the window. Evening began enveloping the city, sunlight slowly starting to become sparce. Logan grimaced, watching people pass by their window in a blur.
"So, seriously though. Do you know why I brought you out here?" Wade asked, reaching forward and digging his finger into Logan's arm.
"Even if I don't guess you'll tell me anyway." Logan muttered, smacking Wade's hand away.
"Maybe you do know me too well!" Wade exclaimed.
"On it with." Logan sighed.
"Right, as I was obviously saying, I meant what I said before. We never go anywhere. We gotta let loose once in awhile, blow off some steam, spend some quality time together." Wade continued.
"What fucking "quality time" together do you even mean? We're partners already." Logan frowned.
"Okay, so, big time heroes in a city like this, sure! We put on our suits, we kill bad guys, it's all games and stuff. But we're friends, right? We can be just as close as your claws in my sternum!" Wade explained, reaching to take a sip of his water glass.
"I...don't get what the fuck you're saying." Logan replied, slumping into his seat.
"Sure we killed and tortured and maimed a few people here or there, but we never take time for ourselves. We never get to talk and explore each other's interests." Wade argued, before sitting back in his chair.
"Anything I can get you today?" The waitress asked, approaching their table.
"Red delectable wine with your finest cheeseboard, he wants a Victorian Bitter and a slice of kangaroo." Wade joked, as Logan huffed.
"Uh... we do have cheeseboards and red wine, not sure about a Victorian Bitter.." The waitress chuckled nervously.
"Oh Jesus. Lay off her, just give me a Guiness and whatever steak you have. Medium rare." Logan replied, narrowing his eyes at Wade.
"Sure. Yes, of course. Uh, anything else?" She asked, scribbling down in her notepad.
"Not right now, but do leave us the alcohol menu, I know he's going to be drinking you guys out of house and home!" Wade said cheerfully.
"Sure..." She muttered, quickly spinning around and walking away a bit faster.
"Why do you need to freak people out all the fucking time." Logan muttered under his breath.
"It's not my fault people have no sense of humor, and to be fair, I picked this place so that you could order whatever the hell you wanted. It's on me." Wade grinned, smacking the table.
"What?" Logan said, snapping his head up to meet Wade's excited expression.
"We're on a date, of course I'm going to pay. It's only fair, you did the dishes and cleaned the bathroom yesterday." Wade pointed out, reaching to grab the alcohol menu.
Logan grabbed it out of his hands and slammed it on the table, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"We are not on a date, and I only clean because you don't." He warned.
Wade twiddled his fingers at Logan, snatching back up the menu and opening it comically to hide his face.
"Don't be so crass, sugar. Of course we're on a date. You wore the shirt I asked and you genuinely wanted to go out tonight." Wade replied, grinning behind the menu.
"Fuck off." Logan swore, sitting back in his seat.
Logan quietly rubbed his sweaty palms against his pants under the table, feeling warm.
"So, what else we getting? I see Sangria's on sale today, and a special on Jameson's." Wade continued, setting the menu back down.
Logan gritted his teeth, and crossed his arms. He turned his face towards the window again, feeling weird.
"After we eat, we go." Logan mumbled.
"Oh no, no no! Not without dessert, which I see they have a fabulous Crème brûlée and delectable chocolate cheesecake. I know you hate cheesecake but you love chocolate." Wade replied, scouring the alcohol menu.
"You don't know what I like." Logan argued, turning to face Wade.
"Sure I do! You hate daytime television but you love SNL. You hate being wet but love going swimming, which is an oxymoron. Them claws can tear anything to shreds in seconds but you enjoy punching more. I could go on." Wade hummed, tapping his fingers against the table.
Logan scoffed, uncrossing his arms.
"Yeah. Well..I don't know shit about you." Logan frowned.
"Oh, I know you do my little bear, you know for a fact that you did not want to be here at all, but came because I wanted to. You also know that people make you nervous and yet you forced yourself to slide into this booth with me. I know you hate restaurants and new locations but you did it because you want to be here." Wade said, winking.
"That's... a fucking lie." Logan tried to argue, feeling tense.
He sunk back into the booth before the waitress showed up with their drinks, setting them down.
"Thank you Mon cheri, we'll have another round when dinner comes please." Wade hummed.
She chuckled nervously again, avoiding Wade's eyes as she scurried away.
Wade turned back towards Logan, seeing his uncomfortable expression.
"Am I wrong?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"Yes. I don't..know you.." Logan lied.
"Do I hate you?" Wade asked, leaning in his seat.
"What?"
"If you don't know me, answer me the most easiest question. Do I hate you?" Wade said with a smug expression.
Logan gripped his legs, and gritted his teeth.
"You should."
"But I don't. And you know that." Wade smiled, eyes soft.
"Whatever. I hate you." Logan muttered.
"Nope. I know you don't. Because I know you."
"You don't know shit about me." Logan whispered quietly.
"I know you'll come for a walk with me after dinner." Wade shrugged, glancing out the window.
The table grew quiet with a tension Logan couldn't quite place, their bickers and arguing subsided. It was a weird moment of either peace or hate, and Logan couldn't tell which he wanted more.
-
Surprisingly, Wade kept his word and paid for dinner, even after Logan ordered three more Guiness in retaliation. Wade even tipped the nervous waitress, before they left the restaurant.
They walked along main street, the streetlamps all lit and dim. The sun had gone down now, the world mostly quiet. The sky started to become littered with stars, the Moon peeking from behind stray clouds.
It was gorgeous, but Logan would never admit that.
Wade clasped his hands behind his back as they walked together, silent. It was strange, this feeling. Logan couldn't tell if it was unease, or the expectation of something.
He focuses his eyes to the ground, watching his steps to avoid the man beside him.
After a beat, Wade put his arm out and placed a hand against Logan's chest. Logan stopped abruptly, looking over at Wade confused.
"What?"
"Look." Wade gestured in front of him.
Logan looked straight ahead, eyes widening. He hadn't even realized they walked as far as they did, reaching the end of main and crossing into the park east of the restaurant. Logan watched the horizon, the faint colour's of the sky paling to the dark blue of night. Barely any sun peeked from the city skyline, and Logan felt a small smile grow.
"Lovely." Wade said quietly.
"Yeah." Logan replied.
"Thanks for coming." Wade added genuinely.
Logan made a small grunt, suddenly anxious again. He knew what it was, but admitting it was worse then letting it seep into his skin and mind. Does he hate this?
Logan shook his head, turning to face Wade. Wade tilted his head to meet his nervous expression.
"Alright, Wolvie?"
"Stop calling me that." Logan muttered, reaching forward and gripping Wade's shirt.
He brought him in for a searing kiss, feeling his mind quiet. Wade brought his hands up against Logan's chest, a small noise of contentment bubbling from inside his chest.
Logan pulled away, shifting his attention back fo the horizon.
"See? That wasn't so bad." Wade smiled.
"Whatever. I'm picking the place next time." Logan muttered, a small smirk forming.
"I'd like that."