Chapter Text
The lighthouse stood like a sentinel on the rugged cliffs, its beacon a lonely guardian over the small coastal town below. Logan had kept it running for years, relishing the solitude it afforded. Townsfolk whispered about the gruff lighthouse keeper, but they left him alone. Only John Wraith, the shopkeeper in town, spoke to Logan regularly, and even that was more business than friendship. Not for lack of trying on John’s behalf.
Logan preferred it that way. People were noisy, complicated, and exhausting. The ocean didn’t ask questions or try to pry into his past. The waves were constant and predictable, a companion he didn’t have to talk to.
Most mornings, Logan followed a well-worn path along the cliffs. The briny wind whipped through his hair as he scanned the horizon out of habit, his sharp eyes searching for anything out of place. One morning, something caught his attention—a splash of red and yellow against the gray sand below.
A man in a bright red waterproof jacket, yellow wellington boots, and a dark blue beanie was crouched by the tide pools, hopping from one rock to another like an overgrown child. Logan paused mid-step, frowning. Tourists wandered the beaches often enough, but this one was odd. Most people snapped a few photos and moved on. This guy was poking around in tide pools like they held the secrets of the universe. Logan watched him for a moment, muttered “Tourist,” under his breath, and continued his walk.
But the next day, the man was back. And the day after that. Every time Logan passed along the cliffs, there he was— Pool Guy , Logan had started calling him in his head.
At first, Logan tried to ignore him, but his curiosity betrayed him. He found himself glancing down at the beach each morning, his sharp eyes drawn to the bright splash of colour moving between the rocks. Pool Guy was animated, sometimes laughing to himself, sometimes muttering something Logan couldn’t hear.
One day, Logan caught him nearly falling headfirst into a tide pool, his arms windmilling as he regained his balance at the last second. Logan let out a sharp, involuntary snort, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth, scowling at his own reaction.
Another time, Pool Guy crouched so low to inspect something that Logan half-expected him to tumble into the water again. Logan lingered longer than he should have, pretending to check the rocks for erosion while keeping an eye on the strange man. He was clumsy but also held himself with a confidence that kept dragging Logan’s eyes to him.
The week passed, and Logan’s curiosity grew despite himself. Who was this guy? And why was he so interested in the tide pools?
The answer came sooner than Logan expected.
It was a blustery morning when Logan noticed something unusual. The tide had shifted unpredictably, coming in faster than the weather report had indicated. From his vantage point on the cliffs, Logan spotted Pool Guy, crouched by a tide pool, oblivious to the encroaching waves.
“Damn idiot,” Logan muttered, turning toward the steep path leading down to the beach. He didn’t want to get involved, but he couldn’t just leave the guy to get stranded—or worse.
By the time Logan reached the sand, the water had already crept closer. Pool Guy was still crouched by the tide pool, completely engrossed in whatever he was looking at.
“Hey!” Logan barked, his voice carrying over the crash of the waves.
The man didn’t react. Logan stomped closer, irritation bubbling up. “You’re gonna want to move. Tide’s shifted, and you’re about to get caught.”
Finally, the man turned his head, blinking up at Logan. Logan’s first thought was on the depths and crevices of the scars on the man’s face, from his chin all the way up to his brow bone that was hairless. To Logan’s surprise, the man smiled, a wide, unabashed grin that immediately put Logan on edge.
“Oh, thanks for the warning, but I’ve got at least five minutes,” Pool Guy said breezily, glancing back at the water.
Logan crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. “Yeah? Take another look.” He jerked his head toward the waves, which were already licking at the edges of the rocks Pool Guy was standing on.
The man straightened quickly, his grin faltering as he took in the encroaching tide. “Okay, maybe I misjudged that. Thanks, uh….”
Logan grunted, not answering the unasked question, his arms still crossed.
As the man stepped back onto the safety of the beach, he extended a hand, his grin returning full force. “I’m Wade. Wade Wilson.”
Logan ignored the hand. “Uh-huh,” he said flatly, turning to leave.
“Hey, wait!” Wade called after him. “You’re that lighthouse keeper, aren’t you? I’ve seen you on the cliffs sometimes.”
Logan froze for a moment but didn’t turn around. “What of it?”
“Nothing, just…thanks for the heads-up. Guess it’s a good thing you were watching, huh?” Wade said, his tone as casual as his grin was wide.
Logan finally glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t expect me to do it again. Check it yourself next time,” he said gruffly before heading back up the path.
As Logan climbed the cliffs, he tried to put Wade’s genuine and open smile behind him.
Logan tried to go about his chores as usual for the rest of the day, but his mind kept drifting back to Pool Guy. No not Pool Guy. Wade, his mind unhelpfully supplied.
“Damned fool,” Logan muttered to himself, before getting back to the task at hand. He tried to push any thoughts of the man from his mind.
~~
The next morning, Logan stood at the kitchen window, coffee in hand, his eyes drifting to the beach below. Wade was back, as he always seemed to be, with a bright red waterproof jacket gleaming in the early light as he hopped between rocks. Today, he was moving with even more energy than usual, waving his hands around like he was giving a presentation to an invisible audience. Logan shook his head, muttering, “Damn fool’s gonna break his neck one of these days.”
As if on cue, Wade lunged toward a tide pool, his boots slipping on the wet rocks. Logan froze, his coffee halfway to his lips. For a heart-stopping second, Wade flailed wildly before crashing to the ground, disappearing behind the rocks.
Logan waited, his heart pounding. Any second now, Wade would pop back up, laughing it off with his usual cheer. But the seconds stretched on, and Wade didn’t move.
“Dammit,” Logan muttered, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter. He grabbed his coat and med kit before stomping out of the lighthouse and down the cliff path, his boots crunching against the gravel.
By the time he reached the beach, the tide had crept in slightly, licking at the edges of the rocks where Wade had fallen. Logan rounded the tide pool and found Wade lying face-down, motionless. His heart clenched. “Hey!” Logan barked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Wade groaned, shifting slightly, but didn’t get up.
Logan crouched down beside him, his hands moving instinctively. “You alright? What the hell happened?”
Wade rolled onto his side, blinking up at Logan with wide, dazed eyes. A shallow cut on his forehead trickled blood down his temple. “Whoa,” Wade mumbled, his voice soft. “Are you… an angel?”
Logan blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”
Wade grinned weakly. “You look like an Angel”
Logan scowled, setting down the med kit and pulling out a cloth. “You hit your head harder than I thought.” He pressed the cloth against the cut, holding it firmly. “Hold still.”
“Ow, ow, ow,” Wade whined, wincing but not pulling away. “Careful with the merchandise, angel man.”
“You’re fine,” Logan grunted, grabbing a small bottle of antiseptic. “Hold this.” He shoved the cloth into Wade’s hand before dabbing at the cut.
Wade winced again, his grin faltering. “With how mysterious and broody you were the other day, I didn’t peg you for the knight-in-shining-armor type.”
Logan ignored him, focusing on cleaning the wound. “This might sting.”
Wade hissed as Logan applied the antiseptic but didn’t complain further. “So, what’s the verdict, doc? Am I dying?”
“Not yet,” Logan muttered, pulling out a bandage and pressing it over the cut. “But you’ve got a nasty bump. You need to get checked out.”
Wade’s grin faltered, it took on a nervous edge. “No thanks. Hospitals aren’t my vibe. Too sterile, too… judgmental.”
Logan frowned, leaning back to study him. “You could have a concussion. You don’t mess around with that.”
Wade waved him off, sitting up slowly. “Nah, I’ve had worse. This is just a love tap.”
“Yeah, well, love taps don’t usually knock you flat,” Logan muttered, closing the med kit. He stood, offering Wade a hand.
Wade hesitated, then took it, letting Logan pull him to his feet. He swayed slightly, but Logan steadied him with a firm grip on his arm.
“Thanks,” Wade said, his voice softer now, the humor briefly gone. “Seriously.”
Logan grunted, brushing off the gratitude. “Watch yourself next time.”
“Oh, I always do,” Wade said with a grin, the sparkle returning to his eyes.
Logan gave him a long, skeptical look. “Right.”
Wade’s grin widened, and for a moment, Logan thought he might say something else. Instead, Wade turned back toward his tide pools, wobbling slightly but waving off Logan’s attempt to steady him.
Logan shook his head, muttering under his breath as he made his way back up the cliff path. “Damn fool’s gonna be the death of me.”
But as he reached the lighthouse and glanced back at the beach, he couldn’t stop himself from checking one last time to make sure Wade was okay.
~~
Logan told himself he was just making sure Wade didn’t pass out or drown. That was the only reason he kept checking the beach through the afternoon. From his window, he watched as Wade moved slower than usual, his earlier energy gradually fading. By the time the clock struck 3 PM, Wade was visibly wobbling on his feet, leaning heavily on a rock to steady himself.
Logan huffed, setting his mug down on the counter harder than he intended. Fuckin' idiot doesn’t know when to quit. He grabbed his coat again, muttering under his breath about idiots who didn’t know their limits, before stomping back down the cliff path.
Wade was crouched near a tide pool when Logan approached, though he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. He seemed more focused on not tipping over again.
“You’re gonna keel over if you stay out here much longer,” Logan said, his gruff voice startling Wade.
Wade turned his head, a weak grin spreading across his face. “Oh, hey, it’s my grumpy angel. Back for round two?”
Logan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “You’re wobbly as hell. C’mon, take a break. You can sit down at the lighthouse for a while. Get warmed up.”
Wade blinked at him, then broke into a mischievous grin. “Wow, you’re inviting me home already? We barely know each other. I mean, at least buy me dinner first.”
Logan felt heat creeping up his neck, and he gritted his teeth, willing the blush away. “Don’t make it weird,” he growled. “You look like you’re about to pass out, that’s all. Take it or leave it.”
Wade chuckled softly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I accept your kind and totally platonic offer. Lead the way.”
Logan sighed and turned, muttering, “Damn chatterbox,” as Wade trailed behind him up the path.
~~
By the time they reached the lighthouse, Wade was looking marginally steadier, so Logan wasn’t worried he was about to pass out. He gestured for him to sit at the small kitchen table while he went to the stove to heat some milk. A tin of hot chocolate mix sat on the counter, something John had slipped into Logan’s groceries as a “treat,” though Logan rarely touched it.
Wade glanced around the kitchen as Logan worked, taking in the simple, utilitarian space. “Cosy,” he said, nodding appreciatively. “Very lighthouse keeper chic. Minimalist. Moody. I like it.”
Logan ignored him, pouring the hot milk into a mug and stirring in the cocoa mix. He set the mug in front of Wade with a curt nod. “Here.”
Wade took a sip and immediately lit up. “Oh my god, this is amazing. Did you make this? You did, didn’t you? Wow, I didn’t peg you for a hot chocolate kind of guy, but this? This is life-changing.”
Logan grunted, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “It’s just hot chocolate.”
“Just hot chocolate?” Wade gasped, clutching the mug dramatically. “This isn’t ‘just hot chocolate.’ This is a masterpiece, are you a chocolatier on the side?”
Logan narrowed his eyes. “No. It’s just a tin mix.”
“Fair enough,” Wade said, taking another sip. “But seriously, thanks. This is… really nice of you.”
The unexpected sincerity in Wade’s voice threw Logan off, and he shifted uncomfortably. “What were you doing out there all day, anyway?” he asked, steering the conversation away from himself.
Wade’s face lit up as if Logan had just asked him about his favourite thing in the world—which, apparently, he had. “Crabs,” Wade said, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “I’m a Marine biologist. I’m studying them. Did you know they can regrow limbs? And they’ve been around for hundreds of millions of years? They’re like, nature’s little tanks—resilient, adaptable, and endlessly fascinating. I’m trying to figure out what makes them tick, you know? What secrets they’re hiding under all that armour.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Crabs, huh?”
“Yeah,” Wade said, grinning. “I mean, I get it, they’re not everyone’s cup of tea. But they’re tough little guys. They survive stuff that would wipe out most other creatures. I want to know everything about them. How they live, how they fight, how they bounce back. It’s… kind of inspiring, actually.”
Logan nodded slowly, not sure how to respond. “Sounds like you’ve got them all figured out.”
Wade laughed. “Hardly. But that’s the fun part, figuring it out. What about you? What’s your deal, mysterious and broody? I don’t even know your name, let alone what makes you tick.”
“That’s fine,” Logan said, his tone final. “You don’t need to know.”
Wade tilted his head, studying Logan for a moment, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, cradling the mug in his hands. “Alright. Keep your secrets. But I’ve got my eye on you.”
Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, trying to not be charmed by Wade’s easy-going nature.
For the next half hour, they sat in an unexpected silence. Wade sipped his hot chocolate, occasionally glancing around the room, while Logan busied himself with small tasks, washing a dish here, wiping down the counter there. The quiet wasn’t awkward. It was… comfortable, though Logan would never admit it.
Eventually, Wade set the empty mug on the table and stood, a little steadier on his feet now. “Thanks for this. Seriously. I should probably get back to my hotel before the tide comes in again and you have to save me a third time.”
Logan nodded, walking him to the door. “Just be careful so I don’t have to.”
Wade grinned as he stepped outside. “Sure. See you around.”
Logan huffed, watching as Wade made his way down the path toward town. He didn’t go back inside until Wade was out of sight. As he closed the door, he found himself looking at the empty mug Wade had left behind.
“Idiot,” Logan muttered, shaking his head. But for the rest of the evening, his mind kept drifting back to a bright red waterproof.