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“Logan, this is Nate,” Wade says, gesturing between the two men before leaning over to Logan, one hand covering his mouth, the other pointing at Cable, “He left his family to save my life and now he's stuck in this timeline as well.”
And for a second, Wade's words hang between them, Logan clearly trying to gauge whether Wade was exaggerating the facts or telling the truth. It's only a small shift in his expression but Nate can feel the tension building between them. He extends his hand and half-expects Logan to reject it but he's met with an uncomfortably firm handshake and a polite smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
“Good to meet you,” Logan says, straightening his back a little.
“You too.”
Logan gives a small nod and releases the grip around Nate's hand, turning towards Wade who's been watching them with an excited glint in his eyes.
“A meeting for the nerds! It's a shame the filmmakers got stingy and didn't include you in the last film, Nate,” Wade sighs, linking arms with him and tilting his head against his, “You would've had a blast with the guys from the TVA.”
He goes on about them for a little bit, either unaware or ignoring the daggers Logan stares at Nate while he does. No Wolverine had ever been known to keep a cool head over things they disliked but being face to face with an upset Logan is surprisingly intriguing.
And since Wade is incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Nate is very well aware of the nature of their relationship. From what he's gathered, they aren't fully on the same page yet but close enough that Logan starts getting restless over the prolonged physical contact between him and Wade.
It's only when Colossus loudly complains about a dog peeing on his foot that Wade moves away, pulling Nate along with him by the arm. “I haven't introduced you to Mary Puppins yet!”
There's a fire in Logan's eyes as he walks past him, fists clenched tight.
Nate settles next to Dopinder, listening in to the story he's telling, nodding and smiling along. Colossus does the same, looking a lot more smitten with the man than Nate remembers from the last time he's seen the two together.
A couple of seats over, Wade is talking to Logan, a dog-adjacent creature on his lap that he had introduced to him as Mary Puppins aka Dogpool. He gestures while he speaks, animated and genuinely happy and relaxed – a far cry from the heartbroken and desperate Wade he'd met a couple of years ago. It's nice to see him like that, Nate finds.
Logan looks at Wade like in a trance, the beer in his hand forgotten. Wade had mentioned his drinking problem and the progress he'd made. Nate wonders if he knows that it's likely because of him that Logan no longer feels the need to get blackout drunk every night.
“Are they sucking each others' faces off or is the fucking dog licking itself,” Althea rants as she comes to sit with them, Nate pulling a chair back for her to sit.
“It's the dog,” he informs her, nipping at his drink.
“I can never fucking tell. It sounds exactly the same.”
Nate huffs a laugh and is delighted to see one appear on Al's face as well.
“Naaaaate,” Wade whines about an hour later, slumping over the table next to him. “My lips are dry.” He points at his scarred face and waits for Nate to take pity.
“I told you to get some lip balm.”
“I don't know where I put mine,” he pouts, resting his head on his hands, swaying a bit. He doesn't seem critically drunk but Nate figures he's tipsy enough.
“Be my personal hero and give me yours?” Wade asks sweetly and Nate makes sure that Logan is nowhere to be seen before investing in this conversation. A tiny part of him still wants to tickle the bear. But there's also the chance he's getting a pair of claws to his face if he does.
“Do you think I'm gonna share my chapstick with you? Who knows where that mouth of yours has been.”
“That's big coming from the guy who eats ass like a champion.”
Althea groans behind them, cussing them out with words Nate is pretty sure he has never heard in his life. She leans heavily on the table as she gets up and turns to leave, the clacking of Mary Puppins paws following her.
He grins, unfazed.
“Still no.”
Falling into the newly vacant chair, Wade scoots closer to him, actively crowding into his personal space. They used to be close in the past, both of them lost in a frenzy of broken hearts and convenient availability. It's a dance they're both very well acquainted with. And while they've both moved on from it, the comfortable familiarity remained.
“Come on, sweet cheeks, please. Logan is an inch away from jumping my bones, I can feel it.”
“And you need chapstick for that?”
“Yes I do, actually,” Wade taps the tabletop with his pointer finger to accentuate his point. “You and your perfectly moisturized lips can't relate but these here,” he points at his lips once again, “are not made to suck Wolverine dick without tearing like an unprepped sphincter.”
Nate leans back and crosses his arms.
“I thought you two are into that kind of freaky shit.”
“Even I have my limits.”
“You can tolerate blood and mutilation but chapped lips is where you draw the line?” Nate laughs and Wade joins in, easy banter.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Wade wiggles in his seat and watches intently as Nate reaches into the dedicated chapstick pocket of his glorified fanny pack.
“You know what would get your boyfriend really going?”
There's a brief moment of confusion on Wade's face when Nate moves to apply it to his own lips first, taking his sweet, sweet time with it.
“A threesome?” Wade asks, gaze transfixed on the movement of his hand.
“You wish.”
“The readers would lap it up like Mary Puppins drinks her–”
“Shut up.” Nate is over him in a breath, straddling his lap. “Let's get you laid and me stabbed by the Wolverine.”
Scarred hands easily find his hips to keep him in place, Wade watching in awe as Nate leans in and carefully applies the balm to his lips. It's awfully intimate and as if on cue, heavy footsteps approach just as he's done, a pair of strong arms pulling them apart. Logan's claws are in his face before he has the chance to even look at him.
“Back off, mate,” he growls.
Nate raises his arms in mock surrender. “Calm down kitty, I’m not stealing your man, the fuck.”
Logan chooses retreat instead of a fight, dragging Wade outside with him, and Nate can't help but sit back and sigh.
“Now they're sucking each others faces off, motherfuckers,” Althea comments on the noise coming from outside, Negasonic quick to turn up the TV volume to muffle some of it. “At least they're not doing it in here.”
She almost trips over the dog on her way to the couch, Nate's gentle expression faltering when he sees Mary wetly nibbling on his dropped chapstick.
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