Stuart. In which a cup -or several cups- of coffee is the answer to all the problems in this, and possibly other, universes.
Wow, Daltonverse. I never thought that I'd get that guts to venture this far out. I -love- the Stuart Trio. Sure, they're nothing like the Windsor conspirators. But they're not Windsor, fact. In Windsor everyone's buddy-buddy and every one is each other's brother, but Stuart isn't like that. Stuarts strive for excellence and have no problems in achieving solo glory while leaving everyone else behind. They're ruthless and single minded. And yet in all that tension, Logan, Julian and Derek still manage to latch on to each other. Sure they're not perfect, but their dynamics is something rare and beautiful. Thus, I find their friendship lovely.
End fangirl rant.
Disclaimer: Momma CP owns these lovely, gorgeous, amazing boys. Although I would want to be able to keep them in my pocket.
He heard the rapid fire succession of footsteps a mere second before the doorway to his room burst open with the amount of force equal to that of a natural disaster. The dashing brunette that barged into the room was clad only in a pair of form fitting jeans which he attempted to zip up as he ran, nearly tripping over himselfin doing so. His oak brown hair -wild and untamed-, complemented the near desperation in his stance, sepia eyes darting back and forth across the room as if in search of something...
In lieu of a hello, the brunette lunged headfirst towards the bed and –all but ignoring the blonde perched onsaid bed- dove beneath it.
It's a testament to how well verse John Logan Wright III is in the roundabouts of insanity as he barely blinked, taking in all in stride with a yawn that he made no move to suppress. Barely present shock took a backseat to annoyance, mostly at being greeted in such a way so early in the morning, more so without his morning coffee. He chose to express it in a rather loquacious manner, "... thefuckare you doing, Jules?"
The actor's voice was muffled from beneath the bed, "Sonic.." –thump!- "missing..." –pawhump!"starving..."
Unseen by Julian, Logan's expression morphed to one of extreme disbelief, "Why the hell would your ball of prickles be under my bed?"
Julian's legs, the only part of him that could be seen from Logan's perspective, had begun to kick a frantic rhythm in the air, "... Lousy judge of character..." –a particularly loud thump followed by a curse- "He's not here!"
Logan rolled his eyes, voice dry with sarcasm, "Right, cause for some reason all your shit end up being under my bed." The lack of response from his friend did nothing in curbing his annoyance. Logan rolled onto his side, manoeuvring his weight over the edge of the bed so that he was parallel to the ground before reaching downwards, latching his hands around Julian's bare waist and –with a brand of reckless ease that was slightly unnerving even- literally hoisted the slightly smaller boy out from under andonto the sheets beside him in a single fluid move.
Julian yelped (Logan filed the memory away as blackmail material) and attempted to pulled out of the blonde's grasp, "Lemmego! Sonic!"
"Jules, I really doubt Prickles can hear you..."
"Wha-? Logan Wright what did you do to my hedgehog?"
"Ow! Jules that- Yeowch!"
"Give me back my hedgehog!" There was no denying the near hysteria in the actor's voice now. Not for the first time, albeit slightly earlier than what they were accustomed to, Logan was bleakly reminded on just why one of Julian's many nicknames included 'Diva' and 'Prima Donna'; it was justly so.
It was this rather strange tableau in which David Seigerson found himself walking in on, fresh from his morning run; Julian frantically assaulting Logan with a constant stream of pillows, practically ripping apart the blankets as he practically dove beneath the covers. The force drove Logan backwards, clutching frantically at the same blankets in which Julian was upturning –the added weight knocked both boys off balance, equilibrium giving way as they landed in a tangled heap of limbs and sheets and blankets on the other side of the bed.
Derek's palm came up to meet his sweaty forehead in disbelief. He briefly wondered how his two best friends could have managed to survive with all their limbs intact with his busy schedule as they both seem to be in dire need of a babysitter at any given time. The athlete shook his head before announcing to the room in general, "I'll go get the coffee."
Feedback and criticisms are encouraged please ^-^ Thanks for reading!
~D.I.S