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Wade spent weeks preparing for today, stocking up on football shaped plates, and decorations in both teams colors, two liters of soda, and snacks ranging from loaded potato skins to jalapeño poppers and spicy kebabs.
After all, a day like this calls for a celebration since it’s one of the best day’s of the year, all broadcasted live to the comfort of his, Logan’s, and Al’s home: Super Bowl Commercial Day.
After stacking their table full of various greasy, yet delicious foods that would easily give any human a clogged artery or two, Wade flings himself onto the couch, across Logan who’s already sat with an open beer in hand.
“Watch it.” The older man grumbles out, as his alcohol splashes out of the bottle and drips down his hand.
“Oh, I’m watching it, alright.” Wade flirts, eyes exaggeratedly trailing up and down Logan’s body before settling on the way his Kelly green flannel hugs tightly against his chest.
Logan scoffs, shoving the younger man off of him, and consecutively the couch, as he moves to stand to clean up Wade’s mess.
“Oww,” Wade whines out from the floor, “First, you’re rooting for the Eagles when you know this is a Chiefs household, and now this? You wound me, Peanut.”
Logan doesn't respond, but that doesn't mean Wade doesn't catch the smile starting to form on his face either.
The commercials go amazing. With only a few that are mediocre. The Doritos ones are always interesting. But eventually, the game comes back on which is basically just universal code for bathroom break.
Wade went last time, so it's Logan turn while he keeps watch. Only, it appears to be a feint. Or maybe the jalapeño poppers are getting to the bicentennial's stomach, because when the game cuts back to their beloved commercials, Wade starts to panic.
"Peanut! Peanut, it's back on, HURRY!"
Oh, Logan hurries alright. The door to their bathroom swings violently open from within before Logan in true animalistic fashion positively charges into their living room on all fours, either being unable to or unwilling to slow down enough to stop his movements to get on the couch like Wade.
Instead, he slams onto the couch, onto Wade's side with so much power that Wade can feel his pelvis crack under the pressure.
There's also the fact that Wade's arm of the couch is now taking residence inside the plaster.
"Ow!" Wade gasps, then gasps again, "Our fucking wall!”
"Shut it." Logan barely shuffles off of Wade's lap, eyes glued to the TV, until--
"Oh for fuck's sake," Logan groans.
Wade ignores the searing pain as his bones knit themselves back together as he looks at what Logan's growling about.
Wade has a similar reaction.
"The fucking church of scientology?? Oh fuck off! That was so not worth getting my pelvis shattered by the Wolverine in the least sexy way possible."