Julian poked his head out of Stuart house, face settling into an unpleased frown as he studied the weather outside in distaste. The snow was spiraling down in dense currents, flakes splattering down on the ground in front of him. It was already starting to accumulate, making the path that lead to class slippery. Fantastic, just his luck. Julian prided himself on his put together appearance- not once had paparazzi caught him with a hair out of place. And while it was highly unlikely that any papz would be lurking around the Dalton bushes, the inhabitants of Windsor house would have a field day if they saw Julian falling on his ass in the beginnings of a snow storm. He almost favored the paparazzi .
With an indigent huff, the actor stuck his head back inside quickly only to hear an amused snort from behind him.
"What, is the outdoors offending you now?" Logan commented with a questioning quirk of an eyebrow, strolling up to Julian with his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants.
"You have no idea," Julian sniffed, turning to Logan as he brushed at a stray speck of snow that hadn't had a chance to melt off the arm of his blazer yet.
Logan rolled his eyes, though his lips curled into the barest of smiles. "I doubt you'll lose any valued limbs because of some snow," he implored, either oblivious to the glare the brunette shoots him, or simply choosing not to see it, "5 minutes out there won't kill you".
"It's damp and cold and you can hardly see 5 feet in front of you. How does anybody actually like this weather?" Julian inquires bitterly, only with the intent to put off going outside into those conditions.
"Stop stalling, Grinch," Logan grins, reaching around Julian to swing open the doors. Immediately, the sharp wind carries in a flurry of snow and the actor lets out a disgruntled squeak of surprise, shoving past the blonde and scurrying away from the open door and the source of the cold.
"Speaking of losing valued limbs," Julian hissed out through gritted teeth, looking entirely offended.
Logan's grin only widened as he looked at the brunette skeptically. "Jesus christ, Jules- I swear, the nickname 'Cheshire' is scarily accurate. You're like a cat slinking away from the cold," he chuckled, stepping outside. "Come on, we don't need to be late to class again because you decided to throw another diva fit."
"You're a horrible person, you know that?" Julian grumbled, but stepped outside begrudgingly, accepting his fate.
"Oh, pardon me. Next time I'll be sure to schedule a limousine to drive you to class", Logan replies, voice laced with sarcasm, as he makes his way down the winding path, Julian trailing behind him, ever so careful not to slip on the offending ice.
A wry smile creeped onto the actor's face as an idea sprung to mind, and he quickly bent down, gathering a handful of snow. It was wet, yet dry; perfect for what he had in mind. He began shaping it in his hands, and soon had a round ball of the cold substance. He aimed it in Logan's direction, and it hit the blonde square on the back of his head. "Asshat".
Logan flinched as ice crystals promptly seeped through his hair and pivoted around on his heel, looking incredulously at Julian. "Snowballs, really?" he questioned, bemused, "Aren't we a little too old for that?"
Julian shrugged, exuding nonchalance and feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Though, theoretically, if there's one thing snow's good for, it's for throwing it at smartass prefects."
Logan's lips quirk, painting a smirk on his face. "I respectfully disagree," he drawls slowly, stooping down to gather snow and form it into a compact sphere, "In fact, I'd go so far as to argue that it's also very useful to throw at overdramatic princesses".
Julian's eyes widen comically. The thought of Logan reciprocating the action hadn't occurred to him. "You wouldn't dare, Wright," he uttered, stepping backwards cautiously, "I'll have the wrath of 10 angry body guards rain down upon you."
Logan sauntered forward, a challenging glint in his eye, and he let out a playful growl. "Is that a threat, Larson?"
"Yes, so you can just forget that thought right n-" Julian began, but was promptly cut off as the snowball was fired at him. He closed his eyes as the snow exploded against his left cheek. Some of it slid further down his neck, chilling his skin. Spitting out the snow and regaining his bearings quickly, the brunette scooped up another wad of snow and formed it into a ball. However, when he looked up, ready to aim it at the blonde in retaliation, he had vanished.
Julian growled, frustrated that Logan had gotten away. He was so not about to let that smug bastard win this one, though. "John Logan Wright the third, get your sorry ass back here or I swear to god- you'll be getting pretty acquainted with your right hand for the next month", he called out into the seemingly empty area. He barely got the words out before a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him backwards and almost causing him to lose his footing on the slippery ground. Spinning around, he met Logan's intense green eyes, bright and crinkled in teasing laughter, the corners of his mouth twitching into a barely discernible smile.
Julian's heart stuttered with a rush of desire, but he was not going to let Logan off easy because of his Abercrombie-level good looks. Not a chance in hell. He raised a hand forward with the intent of shoving a handful of snow into the blonde's face, but found that he couldn't. Strong hands gripped his wrists and held them to his sides, causing him to release the snow he clutched, and it fell to the ground with a dull thump.
Logan lets his eyes travel across the expanse of Julian's skin, the curve of his cheekbones- pink with cold- and flutter of his thick eyelashes to which specks of snow clung to before he reaches out to stroke the arch of his eyebrow.
"You've got a little snow right here," he explains to Julian, who snorts a little indelicately.
"Gee, I wonder why."
Logan's fingers trail down, tracing the faint lines radiating from the corner of Julian's eye while he smiles. He loves how they crinkle and deepen when he really laughs, the sound pure and unaffected. They travel over the half moon of his cheekbones down to the bow of his lower lip, and he lightly scratches there. The action seems to tickle the actor, and he watches as his nose crinkles, he squirms slightly, and some indecipherable noise almost resembling a giggle escapes his mouth.
And right then, Logan has this intrinsic need to kiss him, for the brunette's lips to be moving under his.
He really doesn't want for his homeroom teacher to be on his case about arriving to class late again, but damn it, he really wants Julian too. Screw it, algebra problems can wait.
Julian cranes his neck slightly so he can reach his mouth and Logan closes the remaining space between them, pressing his lips to his. He lets out a contended sigh and tangles his hand into the actor's already wind-swept hair, working the silky strands in between his fingers and using his grip to angle Julian's head back slightly, giving him easy access to his lips- warm and pliable. His other hand still holds Julian's wrist, long fingers encircling the skin possessively.
Logan's lips are soft, pressing against Julian's leisurely, their warmth spreading through him. The brunette kisses back softly, quietly, pulling at his boyfriend's lips with his own, running his tongue against them.
Logan pulls back when their need for oxygen makes itself present, and he can't help the unbidden smile, the one he knows is so completely love-struck he could slap himself. Julian's lips are deep pink, wet, and shiny from the kiss. Logan's thumb slides along his bottom lip. "So, so beautiful," he murmurs absently, the breath from the words uncurling into small clouds in the cold air between them.
Julian's face lights up at that and Logan's heart stutters in his chest at how little it takes to make the actor beam at him. This is a part of what he fell for so hard. Sure, he loves the snarky, sarcastic, diva side to Julian, but the playfulness, the laughter he can coax out of him, and how his eyes light up when he tells him he loves him makes him certain that this is the boy he wants- snow balls flung at the back of his head and all.
"Hm, now I might have to reconsider changing your punishment from 'wrath of ten bodyguards' to 'wrath of five'," Julian hums, his body doing a little involuntary shiver from the cold- their time spent outside getting to class has long since surpassed five minutes. He shifts closer to Logan instinctively, and the prefect wraps his arms around his waist then, pulling Julian into him.
"Thank you," Julian breaths against the collar of Logan's dress shirt, where he rests his head in the crook between the blonde's neck and shoulder. A soft sigh slides past his lips at the heat radiating from his boyfriend, warming his snow-bitten skin.
"No, thank you," Logan's whispering into his hair, the words trailing down to his ear. Julian feels him exhale onto his scalp, his warm breath a sharp contrast against the cool air as it rustles his hair and warms the shell of his ear.
"For what?" Julian asks, confusion evident in his voice, and he reaches up a hand to let his fingertips trace a line from the soft, pliant flesh of Logan's earlobe to his pulse. Back and forth, back and forth.
"For easing down on the amount of angry bodyguards you plan on releasing on me. Five I might be able to handle, scare them away with my unrivaled fencing talents and all. So thanks for your undwindling generosity, kind sir," Logan paused and added , softer "And Jules?"
"Hm?" Julian hums, leaning back farther to get a better look at Logan's face. He sees the sincerity in his eyes and knows something is coming, so he waits him out. It doesn't take long.
"Thank you for loving me." It was hardly over a whisper and barely audible, stolen by the wind as it flew by, but the same sincerity laced his tone.
"I do love you, Lo," Julian replied wholeheartedly. He had said those three terrifying words before- and meant them each time. They were the sweetest syllables to ever be combined and leave his lips, but nevertheless, 'love' is too small a word to ever even hope to encompass all of that emotion's meaning for him. Even the first time when they had left his dry, parched throat, rasped from choking lungs soon filling with smoke, bubbling from lips too crimson to be natural, and falling flat in the immensity of the moment in which they hung suspended, the words carried full weight.
"I know."
"Good."
"I love you too," Logan smiled at the depth of those hazel eyes, his thumb tracing gentle patterns into the soft skin on the underside of Julian's wrist, the significance impossible to contain or quantify within the limits of three small words, never taken lightly between the pair because they meant it with everything in them.
For a moment everything goes quiet, so quiet.
"But throw another snow ball at me and I will castrate you."
"But you look good with white stuff on your fac- ow, Julian!"
"Get the hell out of my way, Logan. It's colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra out here, I'm freezing my ass off."
"Fuck you, Larson. You know what? Gladly!"