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The bedroom smells like peanut butter, tonight and last night; Logan was beginning to think he'd lost his mind. When he asked about it yesterday, Wade said, quote: “Huh. I guess a peanut butter fairy must've jizzed in the vents.” Which didn't exactly make Logan feel sane, but he was too exhausted after a day of helping Laura pack to do anything but grunt noncommittally, nuzzle his face against Wade’s shirt and fall asleep.
Laura left this morning when Colossus came to collect her in the X-Jet, and she'll be at the mansion for the next three days, playing some new video game Logan doesn't remember the name of with Yukio and Ellie. Logan suspects that at least some of Laura's motivation for the extended sleepover was his and Wade’s recent engagement, wanting to give them privacy, though she denied this when he tried to tell her it wasn't necessary. He hates not having her here, not being able to smell her, but he can call her whenever he needs to hear her voice, and selfishly, he's kind of excited to have the apartment to themselves for a while, no one to keep quiet for. Not including Mary Puppins, who sleeps like the dead, or Al, who wears heavy-duty earplugs to bed.
Logan can tell that Wade’s excited, too; he's been bouncing off the walls since Laura left, and he obviously has something special planned for tonight. Though, to be fair, Wade’s been bouncing off the walls for a week now, ever since Logan's not-birthday when Wade asked and Logan said yes. It still doesn't feel quite real, but Logan's always hyper-aware of the ring on his finger, as if it weighs twenty pounds. It's a plain, perfectly masculine silver band with an engraving on the inside, hidden against his skin: “Educated Wish.”
“Got it!” Wade announces after a minute of digging through their bedroom closet, fishing something off the top shelf. He turns to face Logan with a brown paper bag clutched in his hands and an unusually sheepish smile on his face. “I hid it up there yesterday, while you were distracted. Also, yes, there's peanut butter in here. Sorry for lying about the fairy jizz, that's actually a super serious infestation, I hope I didn't jinx us.”
“Uh-huh.” Logan rolls his eyes. He's lounging in bed, sprawled out over the comforter with his arms folded behind his head. “What's in there, candy? We can't eat that in bed, bub, or else we'll get a real infestation.” There are rats everywhere in this building, he hears them scurrying around in the neighbors’ apartments all the time.
“Patience, gorgeous fiancé of mine, let me surprise you.” Wade giggles as he climbs onto the bed and straddles Logan's waist, Logan's heart sort of somersaulting at the word fiancé. Wade rests the bag on Logan's stomach, and a brief hesitation flits across his face. “Just promise you won't get mad, okay? Tell me if you're not feelin’ it and we'll switch to something else.”
“That doesn't bode well,” Logan says, but he takes his arms out from behind his head, grabs Wade’s hips and squeezes gently to reassure him, to bring his smile back. “But hey, if it smells like peanut butter, how bad can it be?”
Wade beams. “That's the spirit!” He shoves both hands into the bag, rummaging without looking, his eyes on Logan. By the sounds of it, there are a few things and at least one buckle inside. “Okay, so. You know how you're my little puppy sometimes?”
Fire in his cheeks, Logan nods. He doesn't like talking about that when it's not actively happening, if only for the sake of his pride, the straggler part of him that's still convinced it's something to be ashamed of. Those nights feel both secret and sacred, separate from the real world. For a while there was no sex involved, just Wade holding Logan and slowly working him down from whatever had upset him. But Wade's been rubbing Logan off during it lately, too, slipping his hand down the front of Logan's boxers and cooing that he's such a good boy for letting Wade pet his cock. Logan shivers at the memory.
“Well, I've been wanting to bring that to the next level, ‘cause it's one of my favorite games, and I know you love it.” Wade grins, wide and triumphant, obviously noticing the conflicted pleasure on Logan's face. Logan's embarrassed, but he won't deny it; lying to Wade makes his skin crawl. “I kind of just got one of everything,” Wade says. He's still blindly digging through the bag, maybe stalling for time; he smells sort of nervous, and he's blushing, too. “We don't have to use all of it tonight, or ever, or any of it, but —”
“Okay, okay, c'mon.” Impatient, Logan digs his fingers into Wade’s hips, feeling the heat of him through his sweatpants. “Let’s see what you got. I'll tell you if I don't like it.”
“I know you will, ‘cause you're my good boy. Alright, here goes…” Wade pulls his hands from the bag, producing a synthetic fur tail, like something off a kid's Halloween costume. Wade's grinning like he expects Logan to laugh, so Logan doesn't feel too guilty for rolling his head back on the pillow and cracking up. “I know, I know, but it's super soft,” Wade says, giggling. “And it matches your hair.”
Logan takes a better look, laughing harder when Wade dangles it over his head and tickles his face with it. “Knock it off,” Logan says without any real heat, spitting and swatting Wade's hand away. It is super soft, and it does match his hair. It hangs from a string, which presumably is supposed to go around his waist. “You want me to wear that, seriously? That's hot to you?”
“I mean, yeah.” Wade rubs it against his own face now, smiling. “I’m not a furry, though, just for the record. That mouse thing from Chuck E. Cheese still haunts my nightmares.”
“Oh, hey,” Logan says, hearing “Chuck E. Cheese” and opting to ignore everything else about that sentence. “That’s an arcade, right? I've seen the commercials, y'know, we oughta take Laura there. Maybe for her birthday —”
“Hey, no, shh. Peanut.” Wade dangles the tail over Logan's face again, as if to chide him. Logan laughs and tries to turn his head away, though he's stuck, pinned under Wade. He doesn't shove at Wade’s hand this time, because it feels kind of good, the fur and the laughing. Before Wade, Logan had forgotten he was capable of laughter. “I mean, yeah, we totally should, but also, can we please just relax and focus on us for right now? Like, our bond? This is our pre-honeymoon, after all.”
“Fine, fine!” Logan smiles up at Wade when he relents and pulls the tail away, and Wade smiles, too, his eyes bright. “Pre-honeymoon, huh?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, baby. Of course, our actual honeymoon will take place at, like, a decently nice hotel. Maybe in Brazil, or Argentina, somewhere around there, so I can meet a capybara. Ooh, maybe a cruise!” Wade sets the tail down on the bed and reaches back into the bag, rummaging again.
Logan hums in vague agreement, and holds Wade’s hips while he waits. He's been all around the world, seen just about everything there is to see, so he knows for certain that there's nothing out there more beautiful than Wade, nowhere else he'd rather be. They could get married in the alley out back and honeymoon at the trashy motel down the street, Logan wouldn't complain. He'd definitely prefer that to a cruise around South America, what a fucking nightmare the Atlantic campaign was. He still gets seasick just from thinking about it.
“Here, look!” Wade pulls a pair of mittens from the bag next, beaming, distracting Logan from unbidden, very unsexy memories of puking over the sides of warships. The mittens are knitted, brown yarn with pink pads on the fingers and palms, made to look like paws. They're soft when Logan takes one hand from Wade’s hips to touch, still smiling incredulously but willing to take the mittens slightly more seriously than the tail. “Aren’t they cute?” Wade asks. “I tried ‘em on, and they're really comfy. They won't make your hands clammy at all, I promise.”
Logan's heart squeezes at the thought of Wade trying them on himself first, making sure there's nothing wrong with them before he presents them to Logan. It's such a small thing, but it's Wade in a nutshell: weirdly sweet. “Alright,” Logan says, feeling indulgent. “I’ll greenlight the tail and paws. What's next?”
“Yay!” Wade cheers, and bends down to press a quick kiss to Logan's mouth. “Thank you, thank you! One more surprise, and then the peanut butter,” Wade says when he pulls back, smiling widely. He sets the mittens aside with the tail and reaches into the bag again.
Nothing objectionable yet, but there's a split second when Logan's stomach sinks as he watches and realizes what the obvious next item in this sequence is: a collar. Logan would absolutely not be okay with that, because collars for him are tied inextricably to Weapon X, and he's ready to tell Wade no. He knows by now that it's okay to have boundaries, that Wade won't be angry at him for it, Wade loves him anyway.
His jaw drops when Wade pulls out the harness.
“Check it out!” Wade pushes the bag out of the way when he holds out the harness, offering it to Logan, and Logan takes it slowly, almost too stunned to move. “I tried this on, too. Also really comfy, and very lightweight!”
Logan holds it over his chest with both hands, gawking up at it. It's one of those comfortable-looking mesh harnesses, with a soft chest piece and a strap to loop around the waist, like the one they use for Mary Puppins, only human-sized, or maybe mastiff-sized. The mesh is a gentle blue, calming to look at, and the straps are black and sort of silky when he rubs them between his fingers. There's a shiny silver ring on the back, from which hangs a golden heart-shaped dog tag, and tears rush to his eyes when he turns it over to read the engraving: “Logan, Loved by Wade.” This feels almost as precious as his engagement ring.
“I didn't bother putting our address or anything, ‘cause I'd never let you get lost. That's just for you, like a reminder.” Wade smiles, then falters when Logan just stares wide-eyed up at him, the tag still pinched between Logan's fingers, the metal warming. “What do you think, sweetheart, do you like it? Is this a good kind of speechless or am I sleeping on the couch tonight?”
“I…” Logan swallows hard. He tries for a laugh, but his chest is too tight. “For a second there I thought you were gonna pull out a collar.”
“A collar? That’s a silly thing to think,” Wade coos. He cups Logan's face, rubs his thumbs over Logan's cheeks, wiping away the tears that haven't fallen. They're not the kind of tears that fall; they're the kind that just sting sweetly, pricks of heat behind Logan's eyes and inside his ribs. “Of course I got my precious puppy a harness! I don't want you to hurt your neck, sweetheart, harnesses are much safer for little puppies. No leash, either, my puppy's with me ‘cause he wants to be, never because he's stuck.”
Logan's not laughing anymore. He's at a loss, doesn't know how to respond, but it's a very good kind of speechless. He wants this. He feels low down in that trance only Wade can put him in, where he's helpless and Wade takes care of everything. It doesn't seem so outlandish anymore, the whole dress-up thing; maybe this is just a natural progression. Whining, Logan pushes the harness back into Wade’s hands. “I — I want it on,” Logan says, though talking is difficult when he gets like this. “I want it — I need —”
Wade takes it, shushing. “Okay, honey, okay. Let's get you into your harness, so you'll be safe. Can you sit up for me a little bit, baby boy? Shh, I've got you, don't worry. That's it, there's a good puppy…”
With gentle, guiding hands Wade fastens the harness, slipping the mesh over Logan's shoulders and chest, over his shirt, closing the straps around his waist with a quiet snap. Wade puts it on backwards, so that the ring ends up over Logan's chest instead of his back. “So it won't dig in,” Wade says, and kisses Logan's cheek as he eases Logan onto his back again.
He's relieved to be lying down, and to have the tag always within view, his reminder. Because another automatic anxiety was that Wade would want him on his hands and knees for this, which would scare him almost as badly as a collar, but no, of course not. Wade doesn't know the full extent of the shit Logan was subjected to at Alkali Lake — and he never will, not because Logan's a liar but because Logan loves him, knows how much it would upset him — but he'd ask before he tried anything new. He always does.
“Is that comfy?” Wade asks softly. He lies on top of Logan, prone with his nose brushing Logan's cheek, but he doesn't register as a threat; he's more in the way of a weighted blanket. “You like your harness, sweetheart?”
“I…” Logan opens his mouth, struggles to answer, whining when the words won't come. The harness is just tight enough to feel secure, but loose enough not to pinch anywhere or constrict his breathing at all. He feels very safe in it, more held than owned. It begins to feel like the one thing that's holding him together, as if he'd unravel without it. His head gets fuzzy, so he wraps his arms around Wade’s shoulders for an anchor, clinging without much strength.
“Aww!” Wade pulls back a little to study him, beaming at whatever he sees in Logan's face. “Look at you, baby boy, you're all puppy-spaced out. Are you feeling good? Nice and floaty?”
Logan doesn't really know what that means, but he thinks he likes it. He nods, and giggles when Wade kisses noisily at his cheeks.
“Good boy, my pretty puppy in his pretty harness.” Wade moves away after a few dozen more kisses, leaving Logan breathless from laughing, gazing up at Wade. He sits back to straddle Logan's waist, and holds out his hands. “Here, sweetheart, give me your paws.”
Clumsy and overeager, Logan quickly thrusts his hands out, pressing them into Wade’s.
Wade gasps and squeezes Logan's hands, looking so awed, it's as if he just watched Logan do magic. “Oh my gosh, puppy, good job! Now I'm gonna make your hands all cozy, okay? You're such a good boy!”
Logan feels it like an echo through his chest, good boy, and he's smiling helplessly when Wade slips the paw mittens onto his hands. They're soft and light, just like Wade promised, and only a little restrictive, but in a very not-bad way. Logan curls his fingers experimentally, encased and cushioned inside the fabric. He's not upset that he can't see his ring anymore, because he can always feel it, the weight of it and the way it rubs against his other fingers. And he has his tag now, too.
“Good boy!” Wade calls him, again, but it never gets old; Logan's greedy for those words. Wade holds Logan's hands, brings them to his mouth so he can kiss the mittens, focusing mostly on the pink pads. “Toe beans! Now you're nice and comfy, huh? It's okay if your pretty claws wanna come out, by the way, we can always get more mittens.”
Reassured, Logan nods, though his claws don't usually come out when he's Wade’s puppy. His muscles are too much like mush to unsheathe them.
“And now your tail,” Wade says, reaching for it. He sits back and pulls Logan’s hips into his lap, lifting him up so Wade can tie the string around his waist. Logan laughs at it, and crosses his legs behind Wade’s back, holding his arms out because he wants Wade back within kissing range. “Okay, baby, okay, I'm here,” Wade coos, crawling over Logan again. He bends to kiss Logan's forehead when Logan clings to his shoulders. “What do you want to do now, puppy? I've got some ideas if you want to make love, but if you'd rather just cuddle, that's fine by me.”
Wade’s never called it that before. Logan grins and rolls his hips up, feeling Wade’s erection through their clothes. “Make love,” Logan says; he's gotten to the point where he expects to be rubbed off when he's like this. “I want your hand.”
“Oh, yeah?” Wade giggles. “Puppy wants a belly rub? Okay, sweetheart, I'll take care of you, ‘cause good boys deserve to feel good, don't they?”
He's a good boy, and he deserves to feel good. Logan nods, and spreads his legs wide when Wade moves back between them. Wade folds Logan's shirt up, just enough to bare his stomach and press a kiss to his navel, and Logan’s not worried; he knows Wade would never try to take it all the way off. He knows he can make himself vulnerable with Wade, because Wade’s safe. Logan lifts his hips eagerly when Wade touches his waistband next, peels his pants down.
“I was thinking about getting a knotted dildo, too, but I felt like that was too much,” Wade says as he slips Logan's boxers off his ankles.
“Knotted how?” Logan drops his head back onto the pillow and watches the ceiling, not wanting to see himself.
“It's like… You know what, I'll show you later.” Wade laughs. Logan feels him shuffling closer, holding Logan’s hips and squeezing gently, encouraging Logan to spread his legs more widely. “I would've bought some puppy ears, too, but you've got that part covered. My puppy has little kitty ears.”
Logan giggles at that, distantly aware that he wouldn't be this amused by it usually, but right now everything's kind of funny, all sunshine and rainbows. He spreads out, stretches his arms over his head and rests his padded hands on the pillows, very comfortable in the harness, the tag jingling as he moves.
“Ooh, big stretch!” Wade puts his hands on Logan's stomach, Logan whining happily at the touch. Wade’s hands are warm and gentle, beginning at the bottom of Logan's stomach and stroking up toward his ribs, then again. Wade gives Logan massages sometimes, and he's strangely great at it, skilled in the art of kneading Logan until he turns to soup. “You’re being so good for me, honey, lying so still. Does this feel nice?”
Logan sighs deeply and nods, eyelids fluttering when Wade starts rubbing slow circles. He's applying almost no pressure, but Logan feels it in his bones, like hot water dripping down his spine. He's so melted, he doesn't notice when one of Wade’s hands slips down from his stomach, and gasps at the first press of Wade’s hand between his legs. Humming cheerily and still rubbing Logan's stomach with his other hand, Wade slicks his fingers at Logan's hole — Logan doesn't flinch; he knows Wade would never push inside — and brings them up to rub slow circles over Logan's cock, too, exactly the way he likes it.
“Good boy,” Wade’s saying. “You’re doing such a good job. You don't gotta look, you don't gotta do anything, puppy, ‘cause I'm here to take care of you. I'm right here, always, gonna make you feel so good...”
Logan whines as the pleasure approaches its peak, the knot in his stomach just one gentle tug away from coming unraveled. It never takes long for Wade to get him going, to get him close. Logan squeezes his eyes shut and kicks his legs out when he comes, toes curling, a broken gasp leaving his mouth in fragments, hips jerking up to hump Wade’s hand.
“That's it, good boy,” Wade coos. He eases up on Logan's cock, rubbing more gently, working Logan through the orgasm without it ever becoming too much. “You’re so beautiful, baby, I love you.”
“Love you,” Logan gasps out, saying it back on instinct, though he feels foggy as he comes down.
“Aww, baby boy. That still flips my stomach over, y'know? Like I've got butterflies.” Wade gives Logan's cock one last caress before he crawls back over Logan. He's there the second Logan opens his eyes, wanting to see Wade, and reaches out, wanting to hug Wade’s shoulders. He's always right there. “Did that feel good?” Wade asks with a hopeful smile, as if Logan might actually say no.
Logan nods, and laughs breathlessly when Wade sets about covering his face in kisses, his cheeks, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, everywhere. Logan doesn't think there's a spot on him — except his chest, but that doesn't count — that Wade hasn't kissed at least a hundred times by now.
“Good, my perfect boy,” Wade says when he pulls back. “You're so fucking good, puppy, you deserve all the treats in the world. And I've got one particular treat in mind for you tonight.”
The peanut butter, Logan thinks, and he's glad, because he's starving. He can still smell the stuff, sitting in the bag where it lies on the bed beside him. He smiles and leans up to lick one corner of Wade's mouth, partly because he likes the taste but mostly to make Wade laugh, and Wade does. Logan likes that he can be weird with Wade. He can say things that don't make a whole lot of sense. He can be silly and honest without being made to feel like a freak. Wade’s never made him feel like that, ever.
“Aww, thank you, puppy! What a sweet little kiss. Here, I can give puppy kisses, too.” Wade licks a stripe along Logan's mouth, then up Logan's cheek. Logan giggles and turns his head to the side, though he doesn't really want to get away. “Real talk, though, um.” Wade puts his lips flush to Logan's ear, lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I was thinking maybe you could suck my dick? Is that okay? It'll be fun for you, I promise.”
“Yeah,” Logan whispers back, and licks Wade's ear. “M’hungry.”
He feels Wade shiver, hears him laugh, their cheeks pressed together. “Fuck,” Wade says. “Butterflies in my stomach again. Or maybe, like, fizzy soda —”
Logan kind of desperately wants something in his mouth now, and he feels galvanized by the idea, so he tightens his hold on Wade’s shoulders, as much as he can with the mittens impeding his grip. He flips Wade onto his back, pins Wade to the mattress when he reverses their positions, Wade gasping and giggling. Logan grins, and starts to move down toward Wade’s hips.
“Woah, woah, woah, hold on, boy.” Wade hooks two fingers through the loop of the harness, stopping Logan before he can get farther than Wade’s stomach. The gentle tug does something to Logan, touches him in a deep, unexpected way, as if the loop is connected to a string that wraps around his heart. It's a little bit mesmerizing. “Sorry, but we're forgetting a step. Can you wait for me, puppy? It'll only take a minute. Here, sit over here, sweetheart, give Papa some room to work…”
Wade guides Logan by the ring to sit beside him instead of on top of him, knelt on the mattress at Wade’s side. Logan goes easily, feeling squashed under the hot compress of a spell. He doesn't even protest Wade calling himself Papa, which would probably bother Logan under any other circumstances.
So Logan sits and waits, because he's a good boy, his hands braced to the bed between his legs.
“Good boy, thank you.” Wade sits up to pet Logan's hair before he reaches for the bag. Logan beams at him. “This is the part that's gonna make it fun for you.”
“The peanut butter?” Logan asks, maybe stupidly, because Wade’s already pulling the jar from the bag, tossing the empty bag off the bed.
Wade doesn't laugh at him. “Uh-huh. Gosh, my boy's so smart,” Wade says, and it really should be condescending, but it's just not.
Logan has an inkling as to what Wade's planning, because there are only so many ways peanut butter can factor into dick-sucking. But he's still a little shocked as Wade kicks off his pants and briefs, unscrews the jar, dips the fingers of one hand inside and smears a huge glob of peanut butter over his hard cock, all while humming and smiling as if there's nothing unusual happening here. Logan's stomach growls, and Wade laughs when he hears it, sets the jar down on the mattress and reaches over with his clean hand to stroke the hair on Logan's stomach.
“I was thinking you could eat it off me,” Wade says, and then he's bringing his other hand to his face so he can suck off the excess peanut butter, propped up on his elbows. He does it slowly, purposefully, rolling his tongue over his fingers and moaning at the taste. Logan drools, watching. “What do you think, puppy, does that sound good?”
Logan nods, open-mouthed, eyes moving restlessly from Wade’s cock to Wade’s face. “Can I — now?”
“Mhmm. Of course, sweetheart, you've been so patient. And I do mean ‘eat,’ by the way. Good boys bite hard.” Wade winks, and gives Logan's stomach a gentle go-ahead pat, snapping Logan out of the spinning daze those words put him in.
Good boys bite hard, fuck. Logan moans and gets to it, crawling back down between Wade’s legs. He takes a minute to situate himself, lying on his stomach, getting comfortable. He just nips at the insides of Wade’s thighs at first, enjoying the way Wade’s peanut butter-covered cock bobs when he bucks his hips. Wade’s cock is one of Logan's favorite toys, though he doesn't get to play with it very often, Wade’s so obsessed with making Logan's cock the star of every show.
“Good, that's good. Take your time, honey, no worries, I'm only dying a little,” Wade says, choked-sounding, hoarse from holding back, but he's gentle when he reaches down to stroke Logan's hair. He doesn't pull at all, because he knows Logan doesn't like that.
Heart overflowing with affection, Logan holds Wade’s hips with his padded hands, opens his mouth and tenderly sinks his teeth into the head of Wade’s cock. This isn't a gesture he ever would've thought of as affectionate or tender before Wade, but here they are; Wade likes pain and Logan's very capable of inflicting it. He likes inflicting it, the animal in him preening at the taste of blood, the feeling of flesh between his teeth. Wade’s never told him to hold back, or to be anything other than what he is, and when Wade tells him to be good, what he really means is, Do your worst.
Wade yelps and laughs at the first bite, so Logan keeps going, spurred on, bearing his hands down on Wade’s hips to keep him from thrusting up. Because Wade always tries to push harder into Logan's teeth, and Logan doesn't actually want to bite his cock off.
Logan focuses mostly on the peanut butter, genuinely hungry, and does less licking than nipping, scraping it off with his teeth while Wade moans and pets his hair to encourage him. He doesn't have enough strength in his jaw to do much damage at the moment, his muscles mush, but he eagerly laps up the small amount of blood he draws, whining happily at the way it mingles with the peanut butter. The pre-come, too. Logan likes sucking Wade’s cock, the way it twitches in his mouth as if alive, begging to be hurt a little more, but he's not a fan of the taste, and the peanut butter helps, though Logan prefers the crunchy kind. Oh well; biting Wade’s cock provides the crunch, wet and satisfying.
“Oh my god, oh my god, yes, that's so good, fuck,” Wade’s saying, gasping between words, hips jumping with every shift of Logan's jaw. “You’re such a good boy, holy shit, yes, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna —”
Logan backs off when Wade’s cock starts spurting, not wanting to swallow, his mouth already full of sticky peanut butter. He knows Wade won't mind. Logan just laps at the base of Wade’s quickly healing cock until he's done coming onto his stomach, and then the peanut butter’s all gone, which sort of upsets Logan, because he's still hungry.
“Best boy ever, eleven out of ten, no one does it like you, baby,” Wade says, limp now. Logan draws himself up between Wade’s legs, smacking his lips, trying and failing to lick the peanut butter off the backs of his teeth and out from under his tongue. “Aww!” Wade says when he notices this, sitting up on his elbows to coo at Logan. “You're doing the thing, that's so fucking cute! You want some water, puppy?”
Logan swallows and shakes his head. “I want more,” he whines.
“Sure thing, honey, I'm sorry.” Wade gropes for the jar of peanut butter and pats his chest, beckoning Logan closer. “C'mere, sweetheart, Papa will make your belly all full. Poor puppy's still hungry, huh?”
“Yeah…” Logan crawls up to lie on Wade’s chest, whimpering imploringly and opening his mouth wide when Wade sticks his hand into the jar. Logan feels more like a baby bird now than a puppy, but as long as he's Wade’s it doesn't matter, he'll be taken care of.
“Good boy, baby, here you go, you can have as much as you want. My boy's got such a healthy appetite.” Wade scoops a glob of peanut butter into Logan's mouth, lets Logan lick it off his fingers. Logan whines happily, eyes fluttering as he sucks hard. “You’re so gorgeous, you're perfect, I'm —” Wade moans when Logan nips his fingers. “I'm so proud of you. Good boy for biting, puppy, I love your bites almost as much as your kisses.”
And then Wade’s just scooping peanut butter into Logan's mouth, the game completely derailed from whatever else Wade had planned, though he doesn't seem to mind. Logan likes the way Wade watches him, all soft and adoring, almost worshipful, though Logan's definitely looked better. He's sure his face is a mess, drooling and smeared with blood and peanut butter, licking sloppily at Wade’s hand, but in Wade's eyes he's beautiful. Logan likes how attentive Wade is in feeding him, how Wade only pulls his hand away when the previous glob is all gone and then immediately reloads, never leaving Logan's mouth empty for long.
Logan likes that Wade doesn't shove his fingers into the back of Logan's throat to choke him, though he's not sure why he ever thought Wade would do that. He senses himself circling the grave of some long-buried memory and backs off from it, not in the mood for misery. This bubble is special and private, all love, and there's only room for Logan and Wade inside.
“Gosh, this is making me hungry,” Wade says when the jar is half empty and Logan’s full, just sedately kitten-licking at Wade’s fingertips now. “You want to come again, puppy? Can I lick it off you this time?”
Startled, Logan stops, and his tongue hangs out of his mouth for the second it takes his brain to catch up. Wade taps Logan's tongue while it's out, smiling moonily. “I dunno,” Logan says when he gets his jaw working again. “Does it feel gross?”
“I don't think so. I think it feels good.” Wade takes Logan's face in his hands and licks Logan's mouth again, probably wiping away a smear of excess peanut butter with his tongue. “And I'll clean you up after, don't worry.”
“Uh, okay,” Logan says, giggling, still all floaty. He makes an aborted movement, not really knowing how to proceed. “So, how should I…?”
“Here, lie down for me. I've got you.” Cupping the back of Logan's head, Wade eases him onto his back. Logan's glad for the gentleness, sure he'd get whiplash if Wade flipped him over the way he flipped Wade. Maybe that's their relationship in a nutshell, Logan thinks, blinking slowly up at Wade. “I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise. Tell me if it starts to feel gross and I'll clean it off right away,” Wade tells him, his voice pure reassurance.
Logan nods, smiling, amazed as always by how safe and comfortable he feels with Wade lying on top of him. “I trust you,” Logan says. He trusts Wade with his life, with his daughter, with everything he has.
Wade beams, and bends down to kiss Logan very gently. Logan braces his hands to Wade’s shoulders, and he can't squeeze with the mittens, but he bites at Wade’s lips to make up for it, kicks his legs up around Wade’s waist, wanting to keep Wade close.
“You still want my mouth?” Wade asks when Logan lets him go, his mouth red and swollen from Logan's teeth, curved up into a smile.
Logan nods, though he's a little nervous when Wade picks up the peanut butter again, when he dips one finger into the jar and scoots back between Logan's thighs. “Okay,” Logan says, and spreads his legs for Wade. “Put it on? Just a little bit.”
“Just a little bit,” Wade coos, and Logan gasps when Wade rubs his finger over Logan's cock, smearing the peanut butter. It feels strange, cool and thick and alien, kind of thrilling for how much it doesn't belong there. Logan drops his head to the pillow and covers his eyes with the mittens for good measure, unwilling to look down at himself. His cock twitches under its peanut butter blanket. “How does that feel, puppy?” Wade asks softly.
“Weird,” Logan whines. “Lick it off.”
Wade moans, and then his mouth is latched onto Logan's cock, sucking and taking the strange feeling away. He laps at Logan for a while, then peppers Logan's cock with little kisses when it feels like the peanut butter is all gone. Logan groans and rolls his hips up, because it's not enough. “You want more peanut butter?” Wade asks when he pulls back, Logan whining at the loss.
“Yeah.” Logan shudders, shifts his hips. “Everywhere this time, except — not my —”
“Shh, I know. I know, baby boy, I got you.” Wade carefully spreads peanut butter between Logan's legs, everywhere but his hole. Logan feels like he's being finger-painted, because Wade goes about it very delicately, his bottom lip between his teeth when Logan peeks at him, just brushing his fingertips over Logan's cock, then tracing down toward his ass. “Good boy, you're doing a really good job. What about here, you want a little bit on your hole?” Wade asks, as if that's the only hole Logan has.
“A little bit,” Logan says, and moans when Wade just barely dips his finger in, so he'll have to eat it out. Then Wade tucks in, starting at Logan's cock, Logan shouting when Wade sucks hard, padded hands flying down to hold Wade’s head. Logan feels himself gushing, and it's gross, but not any more gross than the peanut butter, which makes for a nice distraction from the wetness. Logan can't even imagine what he looks like down there, and he doesn't want to, can't look. But it feels so good, just like Wade’s mouth always does.
“Good boy. So good for me.” Wade’s voice is muffled, his mouth pressed to Logan's cock. Wade moves farther down between Logan's legs, licking and sucking, his hands kneading Logan's thighs until there's no tension left, until Logan falls open for him. Logan grabs at Wade’s head, holding him close, gasping when he tongues at Logan's hole, worming his way in and licking Logan clean, moaning with his mouth full.
The vibrations of it scream up Logan's spine, and Logan clamps his thighs around Wade’s head when he comes, bucking his hips up against Wade’s face. His tag jingles in a strangely comforting, grounding way, almost as grounding as Wade's hands on his hips, squeezing gently until the blast of pleasure subsides. Logan's content to hump Wade’s face for a while longer, letting Wade kiss lightly at his cock and lick over his hole until it's dry, but he opens his legs and squirms away when it gets to be too much, too sensitive.
“No more, no more,” he whines, and then Wade's on top of him again, kissing his cheeks and nuzzling their faces together.
“No more, we're all done. Thank you for being so good for me, puppy, you're my perfect boy,” Wade says, like a salve to Logan's soul. Wade turns them onto their sides so he can hold Logan more securely to his chest, petting Logan's hair, scratching behind Logan's ears in the way that makes Logan's eyelids heavy. Logan locks his arms around Wade’s shoulders, his legs around Wade’s waist; nothing could pry them apart. “And you're all clean, don't worry, I got everything. I still kind of want to wipe you off, though, if you're okay to walk to the bathroom, or better yet, let me carry you —”
Logan whimpers loudly and shakes his head, his face pressed flush to Wade’s neck. “No, no, no —”
“Okay, shh. Shh, we'll stay right here, just like this. I'm sorry, puppy, what was I thinking? That was silly.” Wade kisses Logan's ear, wraps his arms around Logan's back. Logan clings as hard as he can for a second, then relaxes, satisfied that they physically can't get any closer. Wade doesn't protest, just squeaks as he's squeezed and goes on holding Logan, rubbing his back. “Do you want your harness off?” Wade asks softly. Logan shakes his head again. “No? Aww, I'm glad you like it so much, sweetheart. What about your mittens and tail, you want to sleep with them on, too?”
Logan nods, and drops his jaw in a wide yawn, feeling drained suddenly, doubly so when Wade reaches down and pulls the comforter up over them. Logan likes the gentle weight of the harness, the jingling of the tag, and the mittens are very comfortable. The tail he could take or leave, but it's so light he'd almost forgotten it was there, and there's no way in hell he's letting go of Wade to remove it. “Warm,” Logan mumbles, eyes closed against Wade's neck, sleep fast approaching.
“Good. Okay, I guess we'll leave the light on tonight,” Wade says, though they almost always leave it on, not for Logan but for Wade, who doesn't sleep well in the dark. He can't see through it like Logan can. “I love you, honey. You don't want any more peanut butter, do you?”
Logan just groans vaguely, a garbled attempt at “no” and “love you, too,” and then he's out cold. The peanut butter was pretty good, but Wade’s the best treat he'll ever get.