Also known as: 'Syaz should not be allowed to wright up this late and that her language flew out of the window but she doesn't give a damn. Uncreative title is uncreative.'

In need of fluffy Jogan 3

Disclaimer: Julian Larson-Armstrong and Logan Wright belong to Mama CP. I don't even have my own Gondola.

"I fail to understand why I'm the only one doing this-"

"Because you overreacted," Julian folded his arms back so that they cushioned his head, posture relaxed complete with legs crossed lazily by his ankles, "It's your fault we're stranded in the middle of Venice. Naturally, you're going to have to deal with it by yourself while I lie here and look flawless."

Logan's hands stilled its movements in favour of casting the brunet a biting green gaze from over his shoulder, "I did not overrea-!"

Julian silenced him with his own glare, unobstructed by the shades placed atop his head, "You threw our gondolier off his own gondola. Tell me, in what universe is that not overreacting?"

The taller blond made a point to splash the water with the oar in protest, "He was making sex eyes at you the entire way!"

"So you threw him off his gondola?" The hilarity that coloured his tone was barely suppressed.

"Excuse me for wanting him to keep his eyes off what's mine." Logan's tone matched Julian's in means of sarcasm, albeit dropping steadily to a low grumble at the end.

The actor's pointed smirk softened, the fond smile tugging at his lips went unnoticed by Logan. He recoiled in his seat, a hand -previously supporting his head- dropping to his side which he then languidly skimmed across the surface of the water. "No reason to get possessive though. He wasn't really my type." He plunged his hand into the water, angling his arm just enough to splash the hem of Logan's jeans when he pulled it back out. "You know I prefer blonds."

Aforementioned blond chuckled, the muscles in his shoulders and back working in time with his strokes. Julian tilted his head, the view from his angle was quite stunning to say the least. "That guy though," Logan started, his tone mock thoughtful, "he was wearing a hat, wasn't he?"

"He was," Julian replied smoothly, tapping the water in turn with a single finger, "until you pushed him off. I lost track after that, his head was so shiny I got distracted by my reflection." He snorted, "If you got jealous of that, wait till we find a blond one. Or if we go to Sweden."

"Sweden? Aren't you being stereotypical?"

"I call them as I see them," Julian waved him off.

Logan prodded on, if not just to humour him, "How blond are we talking here? On a scale of Malfoy-platinum to lemon-bleached-?"

"I was thinking closer to home. You know, a Wright blond perhaps."

Logan chanced a glance over his shoulder once more. Julian had retracted his hand, now tossed lazily across his stomach while the other remained supporting his head of oak brown waves. The diamond strewn waters shimmered where the sun's rays kissed it. The brunet's entire silhouette was framed by it, coupled above with the crimson light of the evening; it looked as if he was backed up by the sun itself.

It was the most natural thing in the world to say it then: "I love you."

When he replied, Logan was able to hear the fondness in his tone as easily as he would recall a harmony. And it was just that. "I love you too. Now keep paddling."

I WILL NOT GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP. I'LL MERELY TRANSFORM IT INTO A SUBMARINE AND KEEP ON GOING.