Adrenaline and Adamantium

1. Domesticate your Honey Badger

Beginning after the events of Deadpool 3. Logan lives in Wade's world now. Rated M. For language, comic action and smut. Please drop a star if you like it, it helps with the algorithm, thanks.

Day One:

Logan wakes up to the smell of fresh coffee.

Which means he actually slept.

What the fuck? He hadn't expected to pass out in a new place, especially not sober, with the sofa bed's metal frame cutting across the middle of his back, and a tiny bald dog snoring on his pillow next to his ear. But he did.

Huh.

"Good morning, honey badger," Wade calls out, gliding into the living area with a steaming mug in each hand. Pink pajama pants with white kitten heads printed on them, paired with an oversized sweatshirt, same white kitten on the front, big red bow cocked in front of one pointy ear. He smells fresh from the shower, like coconut oil. Logan tries not to be obvious about scenting him. Tries to turn it into a yawn. Wade holds out a mug.

Logan grunts, sits up slightly, and takes the offered cup. It's red and says, "I fucked Deadpool and all I got was this lousy coffee mug" on the side in shiny black capital letters.

"I give those out as little parting gifts for my overnight guests," Wade says, sitting down on the edge of the sofa bed near Logan's knees, and crossing his long legs, a lavender Croc dangling from his jiggling foot. "Be a good boy and you might get one. I have a whole case left. I'm not as popular as you might think."

Mary Puppins wakes up then, stretches, and waddles across the saggy mattress to snuggle up next to Wade. Wade pets her adoringly.

Logan takes a sip. The coffee is good. His tired, ancient eyes agree to fully open. He feels every bit of 200 years old after yesterday. What the fuck was that shit?

They sit there, drinking coffee beside each other. Wade scrolling on his phone and snuggling the dog. Logan staring into the distance, contemplating the threshold he is on, a new life in this new universe. He drinks slowly and remembers the last few days. Thinks about Wade. The Void. The Honda fight. Cassandra Nova. Laura. The Honda again. Wade again. Getting invited to stay here. Wade yet again.

"Don't stab me for this, pussycat, but you stink. Did you know?," Wade asks him, after a bit, looking over, expression frank but not unkind.

"Been told," Logan grunts at him. He's still wearing the TVA shirt he crashed in when they arrived, late last night, pulled on after the Time Grinder, over sweat, blood and godknowswhat, which doesn't help his natural Wolverine aroma situation. His stink has been a running joke with everyone he's ever lived with. Logan curls his lip in self disgust.

"Like a giant, musky, manweasel," Wade says this flirtatiously, like Logan's not entirely repulsive to him. "I dig it, but our blind roommate has a very sensitive nose. So does our lovechild, Mary Puppins, here."

"He's saying you gotta go wash your hairy ass, if you're stayin' here," Blind Al announces, coming into the room and dropping a robe, towel and washcloth on the bed next to the smelly creature Wade dragged home and the little dog, too. Logan knows she can't see, but Al seems to be glaring at him behind her opaque black sunglasses, standing over him a moment, then saying, "These are yours now. Shower's in there. Welcome home, Logan. Stay however the fuck long you can stand him."

"Thanks, Mama, for letting me keep him," Wade simpers at her, "I'll take real good care of him, promise."

"Thank you, Althea," Logan answers, taking the towel and robe, voice gruff but grateful. She tisks, flaps a wrinkled brown hand dismissively, and shuffles over to the kitchen to get her own cup.