A/N: Although this is classified under Glee, all the characters within this story belong to CP Coulter's Glee fanfiction, Dalton. Go read it - you won't regret it! And then, come back and read this story! ;)
There is a generalized social understanding that underclassmen should be terrified of upperclassmen. More specifically, freshmen should fear seniors; it is a necessary rite of passage for every adolescent. Julian Larson was, at that moment, desperately trying to believe so.
"Dalton has a no-bullying policy. You're bullying me."
Julian heaved a dramatic sigh. He should be able to handle this. He has been trained for moments like these all his life. He should have the ability to answer questions efficiently and in a charming manner in order to cut rumors before they spread. The actor managed to relax his features into a dazzling smile. Slowly, he released the doorknob he had been about to twist and turned to face the angry freshman behind him.
The young man's arms were crossed and he looked an instant away from stomping his foot. Julian almost snickered.
"I'm sorry you feel that way—" Julian froze. Matthew? Matt? Mathias? It definitely started with an M… Mike? "Miles!"
"My name's Hector," the freshman coolly replied.
Julian flushed despite himself; if Carmen saw his eloquence right now, she'd suffer from heart failure. The actor immediately flinched at his own thought - it was still too soon to make jokes despite the fact that his own heart had stopped over five months ago.
Hector apparently took this flinching as an admission and pounced, his dark eyes gleaming. "See, you can't even get my name right. First, you deny me access to information and now you call me names."
The actor vaguely heard a chuckle from somewhere down the hall, but ignored it for now. He explained slowly, "I'm not denying you any information, Hector. I gave you information. You asked to substitute all the coffee in Stuart for tea. I said no."
"You have no right to make this decision," Hector glowered as his black hair fell into his eyes. "You aren't prefect. I want to speak to our prefect."
"Can you even name him?" Julian snapped with a slight raise of his chin. He placed his hands on his own hips and stood taller. He probably looked ridiculous, but couldn't quite bring himself to care.
The freshman rolled his eyes and looked at the actor as though he was stupid. "John Logan Wright the Third…" He then pointed to the name plate by the door.
Julian immediately confirmed the fact that someone was listening to their conversation down the hall and was laughing at him. The snickers sounded like Derek's.
"Okay, you know his name… but I told you he was sick; most Stuarts are by now. He exhausted himself fixing all the pranks you freshmen have pulled. I swear, you're worse than Windsors." Julian finally felt like he had the edge on this conversation. Hector had definitely taken part in the prank wars. Every single freshman had.
"Actually, the damage came from Windsor seniors," retorted the younger boy. "We didn't prank our own house, come on." He even rolled his eyes.
The actor almost decided to resort to an accidental punch when he heard a feeble cough through the door behind them. This time, his face lost all his charm and he stepped forward until their faces were mere inches away. The actor growled, "See what you've done? He fell asleep at six this morning. It's not even seven. That means that he barely got an hour of sleep and now you're bothering him. Get the hell away from here."
Derek's teasing voice drifted to them - "Stop bullying, Julian!" - before his laughs echoed in the corridor.
"He's not dead; he just has a cold… If that story's even true." Hector's voice was actually trembling now, and he looked ready to cry. "And you still aren't prefect, Julian Larson. I don't care if you're from Hollywood - I haven't seen a single rule naming you prefect in Logan's absence! He's the one who'll make the decision - not you - so leave me alone!"
A reply was forming in Julian's mind when the door opened, crashing into the wall inside the room. A disheveled Logan glowered at the two boys, but clearly wouldn't succeed to impress anyone. He was only wearing a pair of worn grey pajamas and his skin was flushed and glistening. His eyes were bloodshot and watery, and he immediately turned around to grab a tissue for his runny nose. Finally, their exhausted prefect slouched back to the door and simply glared as he struggled to breathe.
"It's his fault!" Julian instantly accused, poking at Hector's shoulder lightly. "He wants to replace our coffee wit—"
"No. Coffee stays."
Julian barely had time to gloat before Logan had grabbed him by the collar and had hauled him inside the bedroom, effectively slamming the door shut behind them. Then, he whimpered - Julian remembered to start recording those noises for teasing purposes - and slouched forward in the actor's embrace.
The prefect's voice was muffled in the collar of Julian's uniform as he pressed his face in the crook of his neck. "Why'd you leave me?"
"It's Monday and school is starting in an hour," Julian explained, trying not to worry about the temperature of his boyfriend's skin. "Also, I had to play prefect since you were sleeping, your majesty. Now go back to bed – I want breakfast before classes begin."
"But you're sick too," Logan sniffled wetly and the actor pushed him away.
"Use Kleenex, not my blazer," he stiffly ordered, pointing towards a box. "Honestly, Lo, I haven't been sick in years." His face twisted in a smirk, knowing that the singer was miserable.
Logan briefly left to blow his nose and tossed the tissue away, missing the garbage by a couple of feet, and then turned to look at his boyfriend with a dead look in his eyes. "I said that you are sick, Jules."
Julian rolled his eyes and huffed before opening his mouth to speak —
His back hit the wall; Logan was pressing their bodies flush together and bringing their lips together in a fierce kiss. Julian's eyes flickered shut and he moaned as Logan's hands gripped his hips possessively and succeeded in tangling their tongues together. It took a few seconds for the realization to hit him, but then he was suddenly forcing Logan away. Panting, he closed his eyes to pretend that Logan's face did not hold a look of triumph.
"So, you've got a day or two before the symptoms hit," Logan gloated, looking positively delighted despite his sickness. He then wrapped his hand around Julian's tie and tugged him towards the bed. "By the way, the fever sucks - now get out of that uniform and come back to bed, diva. You're too sick for classes."