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Summary
“Is that what you’re after?” Logan snapped, then barked a disbelieving laugh as it hit. All the innuendo and the jokes, the lack of personal space and getting handsy, that bullshit in the diner trying to butter him up and in the car trying to get to know him—Wade didn’t look at him and see a loathsome piece of trash. Wade saw his fucking hero.
“...not what it’s always about, god. I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” Wade rambled on, oblivious to the rotted yearning pit he’d split open in Logan’s chest.