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Logan doesn’t know when they decided they were getting drunk, or if they even really decided to do that- it just sort of happens. He and Wade are sitting in the living room, sprawled across the couch, the tv droning in the background with a long-forgotten reality show. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, as do the remnants of their takeout from way earlier in the night. They decided to crack bottles with dinner, at some point earlier- it’s a Saturday, it’s been a long week, and it just felt right. Logan still isn’t one to turn down a drink, and he had happily agreed to spend the night in his cups. Or his bottles, more like.
It just kind of happens; as the night wears on, they just keep drinking. There’s not really any rhyme or destination to it, and they just sink more into the alcohol and get comfortable. Wade has been showing him The Great British Bakeoff, and Logan has never been the kind of guy to give a fuck about cooking shows, but it’s a comfortable enough thing to sit and watch, and it is kind of entertaining, when he finally lets himself pay attention to it. Wade talks through the whole thing, of course, about both the show and whatever other random shit his brain settles on. Logan’s kind of gotten used the erratic way he speaks, sometimes randomly switching subjects, not finishing sentences, flitting from one thing to another almost seamlessly. It still gets on his nerves, to be sure, but not as badly as it did at first. So, while they eat and drink and watch a bunch of people try to make insanely intricate pastries, Logan just kind of lets Wade talk his ear off in the background.
Now, he’s not quite sure how long they’ve been here like this. He’s not really paying full attention to the tv or Wade anymore- his head is swimming pleasantly, the alcohol keeping his body warm and languid. Things are a little fuzzy at the edges; the perfect line where he’s drunk enough that he feels light in his body without being belligerent or out of it. Warm, pleasant, in its own fucked up way. He’s a little sunken into the couch, just enjoying the feeling.
He’s pulled from his relaxed state when Wade slides into his lap, heavy and ungraceful. They’re face-to-face, and Logan grunts with the sudden force of the other man’s weight on him.
“Can I help you?” He asks, even as his hands go to Wade’s hips.
He’s comfortable enough now with fucking Wade that he doesn’t even put on a show of protest anymore, or pretend to be surprised when Wade makes a move on him. Wade is usually the one to initiate, seemingly insatiable, but Logan has found that he doesn’t mind indulging him. The sex is surprisingly fucking good. Wade talks a lot of shit, but he’s been able to put his money where his mouth is in a few departments. They’ve been fucking pretty steadily for months, now, and Logan doesn’t bat an eye at Wade’s advances on him. Normally he would’ve seen it coming, because Wade is stupidly obvious when he’s about to paw at Logan and beg him to fuck, but he wasn’t paying attention, and he’s slower anyway due to being drunk.
“Mmm, I think you can, peanut,” Wade says, voice low.
He rolls his eyes, but he also lets himself roll his hips against Wade’s, feeling his erection press through his pajama pants against Logan. Of course he’s already hard- but Logan swears all he has to do is breathe in the general direction of the other man to get him going. It’s really, terribly easy to do.
“Swiss rolls get you horny?” He asks teasingly, letting Wade grind a little against his lap. “That might be the weirdest one.”
Wade snorts. “Angel, I stopped watching that disaster twenty minutes ago- you’re the star here.” He leans forward a little and presses hot little kisses to Logan’s jaw and neck. “Fuck those stupid Swiss Rolls, I’ve got a better roll in mind-”
Logan has to resist the urge to throw the other man onto the floor at that; he only refrains because the mess from the coffee table and everything on it will be too much of a hassle to clean up while he’s drunk. Plus, he doesn’t wanna get yelled at by Al for spilling blood in the living room. So, he just shoots Wade a glare and rolls his eyes.
“Shut the fuck up,” he groans.
Wade shoots him a shit-eating grin and dives back in for his neck. Logan tilts his head back and gives him more room to reach, obliging him, if only for the relief of stopping him from saying whatever stupid shit he had lined up next. It won’t stop him, but it will distract him for a moment, at least. His own arousal burns slow and sweet in his body, coming to life more steadily as Wade paws and mouths at him, breathing heavily into Logan’s ear. The sound of the tv is drowned out by their breathing, the way Wade whines and groans as he grinds against Logan and kisses and licks all over his neck.
He gets into the rhythm of it, and before long, he’s grinding his own hips, his own cock come to life. He moans a little into Wade’s mouth as they just make out and grope each other and dry hump, slow and leisurely. It feels good, the arousal a slow burn in his body that feels warm and inviting. They spend a good amount of time like this, making out and groping each other, grinding lazily. Wade keeps making these breathy little noises in his ear, and it always drives him crazy. He doesn’t even know if Wade is really aware of the noises he makes; he would definitely be the kind of person to do it on purpose, because he loves nothing more than riling up Logan both in and out of the bedroom. He doesn’t really care in the moment though if it’s intentional, because either way, it’s working.
Of course, right when he’s really getting into it and thinking about their pants getting off and if this is gonna be a handjob situation or something more intricate, the alcohol catches up to him. In the way it always does when you sit and drink and don’t get up for a while, his body harshly reminds him that his bladder exists, and it’s full of beer. He lets out a sudden, uncomfortable groan, Wade’s weight in his lap going from pleasant and arousing to distinctly uncomfortable.
Wade misinterprets this groan and presses his hips down again, grinning.
“You sound so cute, honey badger,” he says sweetly.
He’s caught between sensation, then, the grind of their cocks still sending hot sparks up his spine, even as the press of Wade’s body makes his bladder ache a little. It’s weird- because it’s not entirely terrible, he finds. At least, not in this moment. He pushes the discomfort back, still chasing his pleasure, lost again to the rhythm of their slightly clumsy but no less enthusiastic groping. Wade moves a hand down, gets it on Logan’s cock, squeezing it through his jeans.
“Hey, peanut, what do you plan on doing with all that?” He asks, and his voice is a little husky with his arousal. “That a stray cigar in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
Logan rolls his eyes, but arches his hips up into Wade’s hand, pushing against his palm anyway. “Take a wild fucking guess,” he says.
Wade grins wolfishly. “Wow, you shouldn’t have! What’s a girl to do with a gift like that?”
“Could think of a few things,” Logan says, voice low.
Wade is moving, seemingly to change position, and Logan lets out a harsh groan as he feels the pressure again. It startles him, the way it sends a spike of pleasure through his body alongside the discomfort. It’s a bit of a weird noise- enough to give Wade pause. He tilts his head like a curious puppy, and looks Logan over with slightly narrowed eyes.
“What was that, babycakes?” He asks. “You don’t make noises like that.”
Logan huffs. “Beer’s catchin up,” he grunts. “Gonna have to go take a piss before we get started, I think.”
Wade gets a weird look in his eyes- the kind he gets when he has a terrible idea that’s going to piss Logan off. It’s his turn to narrow his eyes now, and he looks at Wade cautiously.
“But you moaned,” he says, matter of-factly.
“What do you want from me- I’m worked up,” he says, surprising himself with how defensive he sounds.
Wade tsks. “Oooh, strike a nerve there, kitten? I’m just stating the facts.” His eyes narrow again, and he looks way too fucking smug for this conversation.
“What the hell is your problem?”
He presses a hand to his chest, feigning a look of offense. “No problems here, sweetheart- you’re the one who got grumbly when I pointed out that you moaned. Was it… because of this?”
His grin is positively evil as he takes his hand and presses it firmly on Logan’s lower stomach, around his bladder. The pressure is instant, harsh, spikes through his body and makes him jolt. He grits his teeth and lets out a near shout. His cock twitches very obviously in his pants, and Wade looks like the cat that got the canary.
“Wow, peanut, didn’t know you were into that sort of thing,” he says, still grinning. “Can’t say I expected that one from you. You’re a dirty little boy, aren’t you?”
Logan grunts. “Shut the hell up.” It’s not nearly as venomous as it could be, and Wade obviously notices.
“Touchy subject? Is this a first-time thing for you? Relax, angel baby, it’s not my first time unlocking a new kink with a partner during. You’re looking at an expert here.”
He hates how good Wade has gotten at reading him- but when you’ve been living in such close quarters with someone for a while and are also fucking them, it gets pretty easy to tell how they’re feeling, what they’re thinking. They are, unfortunately, a pretty well-oiled machine now. And Logan’s not exactly in a position to be as closed-off as he wants; the alcohol is burning off in his system quickly, but it’s still there, and Wade also just literally has his cock in the palm of his hand. He’s got nothing to hide behind. He grits his teeth.
“Go to hell,” he grunts.
“Aw, baby, you don’t mean that,” Wade says with an exaggerated pout. “You don’t have to be shy around me, you know.”
Logan hates that Wade is right- he doesn’t actually have to be shy around him. Wade is easily the most shameless person he’s ever met. If he didn’t know that he could regenerate, he might just think he had some sort of power around apparently never being embarrassed a day in his damn life.
He is, however, still embarrassed. And confused. Is he into this? He’s never considered it. And there’s never really been a huge opportunity to explore anything like this before, either. It’s not exactly something you just do, he supposes. So, he’s not quite sure where he stands. All he does know, right now, is that he’s still drunk, it feels good, and Wade is apparently willing to explore it with him.
Well- he’s done worse things.
He shuts down the conversation and avoids talking by pulling Wade into a harsh, breathless kiss. The merc goes willingly, settling back into his lap and getting into it. The grinding starts again, and the pressure on his bladder is even more intense. He pants harshly into the kiss, and when they part, Wade is still grinning.
“You’re so adorable when you’re embarrassed, kitten,” Wade says. “This really does it for me, you know.”
Logan just grunts, grinding their cocks together. Wade looks utterly triumphant, grinning from ear to ear, and brings his hand back down to Logan’s stomach. He strokes at him through the thin fabric of the tanktop he’s wearing, eyes dark and mischievous.
And then he presses.
Logan hisses through his teeth. His cock twitches as his body jolts a little again with the sensation of it. The weird pleasure-pain of his arousal with the discomfort of his full bladder is making his head spin, his nerve endings on edge. In spite of himself, he pushes up into the contact, simultaneously bucking his hips against Wade’s cock and the palm pressed against him. A ragged groan slips out of his mouth, and that gets a little moan out of Wade.
“Oh, this one’s definitely going into the spank bank,” he says, giddy.
He doesn’t even respond- just sort of lets this happen. He does, however, start to feel the discomfort of the zip and fly of his jeans pressing into his cock, and that’s a sensation he could do without. He reaches down and undoes them, letting out a soft groan in relief. He doesn’t pull himself out of his underwear, though, and Wade makes an appreciative little face.
Wade continues his little experiment. His hand on Logan’s cock feels even better, without the layer of denim and the awful press of the zipper in the way, and he moans a little more when he gets his hand back on him. He lets himself get a little lost in the feeling, the haze of pleasure putting a fog over his alcohol-addled brain. His head tips back against the couch, and he just lets Wade work. Despite the conversation, and the weird sensation from Wade pressing his bladder, it all feels good, his cock never softening during the exchange. He doesn’t let himself think too hard about it.
“This is so fucking hot,” Wade says with wide eyes when he gets another moan out of Logan after a harsh press on his bladder. “Didn’t ever think about this before, peanut, but this is really doing something for me.”
Logan just sort of grunts in response. He’s been teetering on this weird edge as Wade has worked him over, toeing the line between pleasure and discomfort, his head spinning with it. He’s not quite as drunk as when they started, but his head is still swimming a little, and it adds to the layers of feeling. His body is slow, languid, the pleasure-pain of their experiment making him hot and tight all over.
“Gonna switch it up a little, tell me if it’s a bad move,” Wade says, and before Logan can respond, he starts pressing again, a little harder.
But he doesn’t stop.
He just keeps pressing down firmly on Logan’s bladder, and he starts to squirm. Wade brings his mouth to Logan’s neck, starts kissing and sucking at it, and Logan is a little helpless to it. He’s actually squirming, and he can’t even be embarrassed about it because he’s being pulled in a few different directions, and Wade is still rubbing at his dick through his underwear, and it feels so fucking good. He’s just sitting there and taking it, panting, canting his hips up just a little into the press of Wade’s hand, chasing the pleasure, and even the discomfort, a little. The signals got mixed a little somewhere, and he can’t even quite call the press on his bladder discomfort. It’s a sharp feeling, but because Wade is still palming his cock, it mixes with the pleasure of it, makes heat pool low in his gut.
“Fuck,” he pants. He can’t really bring himself to say much else.
“That’s it, see? This is good, you’re doing great, sugar tits.” Wade talks against his neck, lips ghosting the skin as he speaks.
Logan is a little helpless to it all, just moaning softly, hips jerking. It feels good. He wants more contact, but he can’t bring himself to ask, caught in the limbo of dancing on some sort of weird knife edge, pleasure burning low in his gut and making him dizzy.
It all kind of hits him at once, though.
The sharpness of his bladder increases, startlingly, and the soft pleasure he’d been starting to feel with it shifts right back into intense discomfort. He sucks in a sharp breath, groans, gets a hand on Wade’s wrist to try and stop him.
“Too much,” he pants. “Too much, it’s- I’m gonna-”
Wade pulls back and gives Logan a perfectly evil, delighted grin. “Gonna what, Loge? Gonna bust? Gonna burst? I don’t mind either way, honey badger, I wanna see this through all the way.”
“You- you want me to…?” Logan can’t even finish the question. His face is hot now, and not from the alcohol.
“Why not?” Wade asks, his voice soft and teasing. “Bet it’ll feel real good to let it out.”
“W-we’re on the couch,” he grits out. “Al wil fucking kill us.”
Infuriatingly, Wade is still working at his cock. “Think I’ll take my chances with that one, peanut, I’m locked in now.”
He lets out a ragged groan as Wade punctuates his statement by giving another long, hard press against Logan’s stomach. He breathes harshly through his nose, and he’s trying so fucking hard to keep it all in, but it’s getting harder by the second. He’s panting a little with his efforts, and all the while, Wade is grinning from ear to ear, still palming him, looking utterly delighted to make Logan fucking suffer.
He reaches a point, very quickly, where all of his reservations seem to fly out of his brain. His dick is doing the thinking now, and according to that, he wants to keep going, consequences be damned. If he really thinks about it, it sounds good. But he doesn’t think about it- he just focuses on the press of Wade’s hands, the way he’s grinning at him, whispering soft encouragement. His hips are moving again, stuttering into Wade’s palm, a back and forth of pressing for the sensation on his cock and the sensation on his bladder. He groans, low in his throat, and his eyes fall shut.
It just kind of happens. His composure has remained intact so far, but before he can even really register, it all falls apart. His eyes snap open as he feels himself just start pissing, completely helpless to stop it.
Wade’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t relent in his ministrations. “Ohhh, there it is, baby, wow,” he says, and he sounds genuinely fucking thrilled.
Logan’s face is burning. He can’t stop. It quickly spreads, hot in his underwear, his jeans, quickly soaking everything through. He screws his eyes shut, and it’s weirdly uncomfortable, because his cock is still hard, but he can’t help the relieved moan that falls out of his mouth as the release floods his body. He feels like he finally let go of a breath he’d been holding. He grips the couch and moans, and pisses himself. It’s humiliating, but it feels so fucking good, and his hips keep rocking just a little as he does it. He hates himself for it, but it’s like his body is on autopilot.
It feels like it’s been an eternity when it finally stops. He’s breathing hard, and after a moment, he opens his eyes. Wade looks- he looks like he’s enjoying himself way too much, still grinning, eyes blown wide with amazement and arousal.
“Holy shit, angel baby, look at you,” he breathes. “Oh my God. I didn’t think this would do much for me, but- fuck. That was- holy shit.” He licks his lips, and Logan feels his face flush all over again. “You deserve a treat after that one.”
“What-”
Wade pulls Logan’s cock out of his now soaked underwear, wrapping a hand around it. He moans, bucks his hips up into the contact. He’s surprised he’s still hard, but he leans into the sensation, trying to escape the embarrassment of the fact that he is soaked in his own piss. Wade wastes no time, and starts jerking him off in sure, firm strokes. Logan just gives into it, fucking into Wade’s fist a little, steady moans falling out of him. Wade is panting, dark-eyed and laser focused, concentrating on his goal.
“That’s it, honey badger, let it out,” Wade says, a little breathless.
It doesn’t take much after that- a few more good strokes, Wade thumbing his head, and Logan is coming with a groan, digging his nails into the cushions of the shitty couch beneath him. His eyes shut, and he bucks into Wade’s hand as he strokes him through his orgasm, saying something that Logan can’t pay attention to. It’s intense, hitting him hard, and he’s shuddering with it, thighs trembling. It’s an orgasm that feels punched out of him and leaves him gasping.
“There’s my big boy,” Wade says with a grin. “Holy shit, sugar tits, that was really something. Didn’t know you had it in you.” He shakes his head and lets out a low whistle. “I’m gonna jack off onto you now.”
With no more preamble, Wade pulls his own cock out of his pajama pants. Logan just stares, a little dumb, as Wade hunches over him, stroking his cock furiously. He’s moaning lewdly, just staring at the huge, dark wet spot on Logan’s crotch, and it makes him squirm in arousal and embarrassment. He wants to look away, but he can’t- Wade’s mouth is open in a perfect little o as he works, moaning, his cock wet with precome.
“You- you actually fucking like this,” Logan says, a little mystified.
Wade nods harshly. “Oh yeah, peanut- but I like anything you do. Fuck, this is really good though.”
He just watches, wide-eyed, as Wade honest to God jacks himself off over the sight of Logan’s piss-soaked crotch. He can’t even be horrified about it- he finds himself incredibly turned on by the sight, aroused by proxy of Wade’s arousal. He swallows harshly as he watches Wade work, stroking his cock with a sense of urgency. His own spent cock gives a half-hearted throb, not quite ready to come back to life yet, but he’s too focused watching Wade.
“Fuck,” Wade gasps, a little breathless, and then he’s coming.
He does it right onto Logan’s lap, shooting onto his exposed cock, his soaked underwear and jeans, groaning harshly. He leans over Logan, bracing on the back of the couch, as he strokes himself through his orgasm, milking everything onto Logan. It’s fucking disgusting, desperate, lewd- and it makes Logan’s head spin with how much it turns him on.
Finally, when he finishes, Wade is panting. He looks down at Logan, cheeks flushed, and lets out a low laugh.
“Holy shit, peanut,” he says.
“Yeah,” Logan says, swallowing. “Holy shit.”
Logan is covered in piss and cum and sweat. He smells like all of those things, and beer. He blows out a harsh breath, and looks up at Wade.
“Come on, angel baby- into the shower with you,” Wade says. He reaches a hand out to pull Logan up. “You go get cleaned up, and I’ll take care of the mess out here, kay?”
Logan’s still a little dumbfounded, but he quickly makes his way to the bathroom. He strips and gets in the shower, and a few minutes in, he hears Wade pad into the bathroom.
“Brought you something to change into,” he says before leaving.
While in the shower, Logan thinks about how he got here. He’s turning the whole thing over in his brain. He’s a lot more sober now, and some of the embarrassment is settling in. But he also can’t stop thinking about the look on Wade’s face, the way he had lost all semblance of control because he was so into it. It balances everything out, somehow. He wonders how Wade is going to go about cleaning the couch, but he puts it away and focuses on finishing his shower.
When he comes out, Wade has got the pullout bed set up. He cleaned up their dinner and drinking mess, and Logan looks curiously over to the couch cushions, raising an eyebrow.
“Got some special tricks up my sleeve for those- but I think we’re gonna have to invest in some of those chuck pads they use for puppies and shit,” Wade says to Logan.
“You uh- you talk like we’re doing this again.”
Wade turns to face him, hands on his hips. “Look, babygirl- we don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want, but I think I would be correct to assume that this is.. Something we should be doing again.” He smiles, a wicked little thing.
Logan sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to bed,” he says.
“Coming with, my little leaky faucet,” Wade sing-songs.
Logan punches him in the stomach and climbs into bed while Wade wheezes. They settle in, and fall asleep quickly, wrung out from the alcohol and orgasms.
And if Logan spends some time on his phone looking at chuck pads on the internet in the morning while Wade is preoccupied with the dog, well- that’s his business.