Summary

Wade and Logan Fuck in the Odyssey. *pretends to be shocked*

A standalone prequel to The Sex Couch Saga.

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Alternate titles:

A Tale of Vaginal Sex (or the day Wade finally had some)
Multiple Applications of Wet Wipes
Breeding Kink: Foiled

Notes

Many thanks to Kotias for coming in clutch as my beta for this hot mess of a fic that I wrote in about 2 hours while consumed by Poolverine brain rot.

This fic is canonical to the rest of the Sex Couch Saga series, but can be read alone.

Of Cunts and Baby Knives, Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: a Buddy Comedy

Logan jams the breaks so hard that the passenger-side airbag goes off, firing Wade face-down into Logan’s crotch. Wade’s mind briefly flashes to one of his recurring fantasy’s of having Logan sit on his face, before he is brutally brought back into the present moment by Logan grabbing Wade’s head and pulling him upright, the tips of Logan’s claws emerging and nicking Wade’s neck. It was more than a little hot.

“What do you mean, if?” Logan growls, and despite the menacing tone—or perhaps because of it—Wade feels all the blood in his body rushing towards a particular organ. Still, he recognizes that this is a moment to be—if not serious, at least tamping down on his horniness—as he makes an impassioned plea for Logan’s aid.

To say it does not go well is an understatement, and Wade finds that any arousal he felt rapidly leaving him as Logan’s cruel words hurt more than the claws in his thigh ever could. Wade takes all of that anger and hurt, along with the residual sexual frustration, and places it into a punch.

Logan looks at him in wide eyed surprise, blood beginning to drip out of his nose, before his eyes narrow, and then they are fighting again. Wade finds it almost more exhilarating than it was the last time. When they fought before, Logan and Wade had been in the desert, a wide open space, which allowed them to pull back from each other, to create space between them as they rallied for the next attack. In the Odyssey, however, there was no such space. Aside from a few times when one of them was flung through a window, they were together in the enclosed space as they fought, slicing and stabbing as they panted the same air.

There was anger and fury on both sides as they bathed the car in their blood, though as the fight went on it became less about simply wanting to hurt each other and became actual fun, their growls and furious shouts becoming more like laughter at the ridiculous nature of two men who couldn’t die attempting to kill one another.

They fought into the night, (or rather, what passed for night in the Void^[1]) though their movements began to slow. Wolverine could see just as well in the dark, but Wade had to rely on the dim light from the stars shining in through the skylight.

Gradually the atmosphere changed, and the van continued to rock, but rather than doing so from fighting, it was because of how the two of them had begun to rock against one another, their legs slotting together, their laughter turning to moans, and Wade’s mask was ripped off as their moans were lost in each other’s mouths. The kisses were harsh, frantic, as they began to disrobe, aching to feel skin to skin. Wade had a brief notion of self-consciousness as his scarred skin was exposed, but that fled away as he took in how much Logan clearly wanted him.

All thoughts left Wade’s brain entirely as Logan, in one smooth motion, flipped them over and slotted Wade’s dick into his cunt, down to the root, their hips joining. Logan let out a howl at the pleasure-pain, and Wade’s mind was, in a rare moment for him, entirely empty. His thoughts returned in a rush when Logan’s claws unsheathed again, pinning Wade down as he began to move. Wade’s hips snapped upward in an attempt to contribute to the wild ride, but ultimately resolved himself to being used entirely for Logan’s pleasure.

“Is this what it takes to finally shut you up, bub?” Logan asked wryly, noting Wade’s uncharacteristic silence, moans and pants aside. “You just needed a good fuck?”

“The best fuck, holy shit.” Wade gasps. “I think you’re ruining me for anyone else, peanut.”

Logan smirked as he bit possessively into Wade’s neck. It had been years, decades since the last time he had been with anyone, and he was glad to know that he still had it. He withdrew his claws from one of Wade’s arms and sheathed them, taking Wade’s hand in his and directing it towards his clit. “Touch me.”
 Logan demanded.

Wade responded with a breathy “Yes Sir,” which did things to Logan’s brain. He groaned and repositioned his claws, now stabbing Wade through the side. Even the tips of Wade’s fingers were scarred, the texture of them rough and unexpected and felt amazing on his dick. Despite the fact that Logan’s bite had drawn blood, it had already healed; and so he bit Wade again, growling in delight at the copper taste in his mouth. Wade came with a shout, unable to hold back his climax any longer.

Still, he would not stand for anyone calling him a selfish lover, and he continued to touch Logan. His cock remained hard anyway, regenerative healing and all that, and remained so until Logan, breathless, came himself a short while later. It was only as they pulled away from each other that Wade’s thoughts flashed to earlier that day—was it really only a day, he hadn’t slept at least—when he blurted out to the Chipman’s that he had not had any vaginal sex recently.

“Oh shit, you’re not gonna to get pregnant, are you?” Wade blurted out.

Logan snorted, pulling off of him, and grabbed the package of wet wipes he had noticed in the back pocket behind the driver’s seat. ^[2] “No need to worry there, bub. I’ve not menstruated since my mutation activated when I was fourteen^[3] and it’s highly unlikely I ever will again. Also came with the muscles and hairs—despite the cunt I got between my legs. Guess my mutation was good for at least one thing, givin’ me a body that I’m more comfortable with.” Having finished wiping himself down, Logan began to pull the suit back on.

“Well, your mutation did a great job then, because your body is hot as fuck.” Wade grinned. “Surprised you settled for my ugly cancerous ass, though I suppose options are limited in the Void.” Wade chattered, pulling his own suit back on. “Still, I hope it wasn’t too terrible for you.”

“Wade,” Logan grabbed Wade by the wrist, holding their hands together. “You’re not ugly. You’re… unusual. But not unattractive. I wouldn’t have fucked you if I thought you were. I’m not that desperate.” Wade’s eyes didn’t meet Logan’s, but that didn’t stop Logan from noticing how they shined slightly in the starlight before Wade pulled his mask on again. “Besides, I haven’t actually had your ass yet.” Logan’s voice was lighter than it had been, still flush with afterglow.

“Well, I’ve never been a natural bottom, but I could perhaps make an exception—”

“It’s late, bub. I don’t know how day and night works here, but we should probably wait until morning to figure out where the Others are. I know I’m too tired to drive.”

Something tightened in Wade’s chest. Right. The mission. The whole reason they were here.

“I’m not sure if I can sleep right now.” Wade sighed.

Logan nodded, thoughtful, before he made another strike. This time, instead of stabbing or slicing, he simply pressed a small spot on Wade’s neck and the other man dropped like a stone. Logan wrapped him up in a length of broken seat belt for good measure before laying him down on one of the reclined middle seats. He then fully reclined the other before falling into a surprisingly dreamless, satiated, sleep.

^[1] For the curious, the Void operates on a 16 hour day/night schedule, regulated by a faux sun, and each of the stars in the sky is actually its own bright universe.

^[2] Nicepool would be the type to have wet wipes in his car. Wade had also noted a first aid kit, a sewing kit, a flashlight, what looked like flares, and all manner of emergency supplies.

^[3] In case anyone was considering coming for the author about how Wolverine mutating at 14 is inaccurate, please pause for a moment and consider that this is fanfic about the multiverse and the author can do what they want.