AN: I don't own Cp's OC's. *Sitting in a gondola that's being towed by the Brightman's ship.*

"How's the de-Dwighting going?" Julian asked as he came out of the bathroom, stopping to run his hands through his oak brown hair in the full-body mirror.

Logan was sprawled out on the floor, the blonde's head hidden under the bed as he swept the last of the rock salt out from under it.

"I would've gotten done a lot faster if you helped me, Jules." Logan muttered, his voice muffled.

"Does princess need help to take a few crosses down?" Julian said with a mock-coo.

"Shut up." Logan said, pulling himself out and standing up, brushing his jeans off.

When the room was rid of rock salt, hex bags and crosses, and the majority of the holy water was wiped up, the two friends left the room, only to fall on top of each other once they walked into the hall.

"Holy crap! Lo, get off me." Julian wheezed, seeing as Logan had landed full on top of him.

"Think I'm not trying, Jules?" Logan grunted, trying to push himself off of his friend, but not getting traction on the ground for some reason.

"What the hell?" Julian muttered, realizing that the ground felt way too cold for a cruise ship in tropical weather.

The floor was frozen over. Literally coated in ice, like a skating rink.

Logan gave up on trying to push himself up and rolled over so he was flopped out next to Julian.

"Why's it so cold?" Logan mumbled, sitting up and trying to see if he could lean onto the wall.

"It's ice, oh smart one." Julian said with an eye roll gingerly climbing to his feet and clinging to the wall.

Eventually, Logan got to his feet and grabbed onto Julian's side for support. However coordinated he was on dry, normal temperature land; same rules did not apply to icy surfaces.

They had barely started shuffling, slipping and sliding down the hall before they were both bowled over by a body flying by.

Julian and Logan grunted painfully as their faces came in contact with the frozen floor again.

They looked up to see Derek laughing at them. The fact he was wearing ice skates and skating around the hallway like a pro wasn't surprising, there weren't many sports their friend couldn't do.

"You two gonna just lie there the entire night, or are you coming to the party?" Derek grinned, receiving two very distinct hand gestures from the actor and the prefect.

"…Fine, if you don't need my help them." Derek said with a pleasant wave and off he went down the hallway.

"Derek! C'mon man! Get back here! We need your help!" Logan and Julian shouted.

Thanks to the twins (the source of all this chaos,) the ice trail led down the hallway, down the stairs into the huge lobby where the party was being held.

The party looked phenomenal, and of course the twins had gone overboard with the decorating of it all.

Icicles hung from the ceiling and railings, and all the furniture had been moved out to make room for tables and chairs, also carved out of solid ice. The twins had been courteous, and obviously hadn't forgotten Reed and his clumsiness. A long, winding pathway had been carved out for the artist, and Reed was relieved and grateful for it.

Shane skidded over to a winter-coat-covered Reed, spraying ice bits all over when he stopped short.

Kurt was hanging desperately on to Blaine's waist as he was in a lively conversation with Wes and David.

Dwight skated around the room as if it were nothing, helping Roy-Ben off the floor where he was splayed out on his stomach before taking interest in an ice sculpture that looked mysteriously like a weeping angel.

Charlie was standing by, skating in wide, looping shapes to stay warm.

At the far end of the room was a sprawling bar with every drink imaginable.

Julian and Logan arrived at the party moderately bruised. They found a rack of ice skates by the entrance, all labeled with their names.

Julian grabbed his and laced up, bewildered that the nutjob twins actually knew his shoe size. He looked over at Logan, who was lacing his skates on with a worried expression on his face.

"What's wrong now?" Julian snorted over the impossibly loud thumping of the bass.

"….I can't ice skate." Logan said out of the corner of his mouth, hoping he wasn't heard.

"It's not that hard." Julian said with an eye roll.

"…Would it be such a terrible thing if I just stood where Van Kamp is?" Logan said, standing up shakily.

"No, but you'd just end up looking more like the little girl we all know you are." Julian quipped, tightening his laces and ignoring the death glare Logan shot him with.

"I'll skate within arm's reach, alright? Just grab me or D if you're losing balance." Julian sighed long-sufferingly.

Logan nodded, rocking uneasily on his skates.

"C'mon." Julian muttered, and tugged Logan into the lobby.

"Logan. I said grab onto me if you were losing balance."


"Not if you're just afraid to fall, you wuss." Julian muttered, prying Logan's hand off his shoulder.

"I'm gonna go grab a drink. Stay. Here." Julian said, pointing to a part of Reed's path, which Logan clambered onto.

As the actor skated off in perfect form, Logan couldn't help but stare. He'd seen the way Derek skated, like an athlete. Complete use of all his muscles, but Julian was different. He just…flowed when he skated. Jules had always held this grace about him, like he planned out every single movement he made, but ice skating seemed like it was his second nature.

Over by the bar, Julian had downed a shot and was now talking to the twins, who had cocktails of their own.

"Cheshire, glad you and the Knave have finally arrived!" Ethan grinned.

"Did it ever occur to you that being drunk and ice floors don't mix at all?"

"Don't worry; the floor will start melting before anyone could get seriously drunk anyways." The twins chorused, watching with snickers as Logan was trying to get back on the ice, only succeeding at falling on his bum.

"You know, when he's on ice, the Knave's like a baby in designer labels." Evan snorted, Ethan nodded in approval.

But Julian was already off, skating towards Logan alongside Derek.

"C'mon, man." Derek grunted as he hoisted Logan up to his feet again.

"You're useless, y'know that?" Julian muttered, crossing his arms.

"I'm a human. Humans were never evolved to adapt to ice!" Logan bit back pathetically.

"Yeah, well. Derek and I seem to be doing just fine. Maybe you're not human." Julian smirked, and Logan aimed a punch at his shoulder.

Derek had Logan under his right arm when he saw a particularly busty blonde waitress skate by on her way to refill the drinks.

"…Jules, your turn!" Derek grinned, shoving Logan into Julian and skating off after the waitress.

"...I'm not gonna tow you around." Julian said before Logan could say anything.

"This is the suckiest party idea ever." Logan muttered.

"Stop complaining." Julian almost laughed at how pouty Logan was being, dragging him over to the bar and dropping him onto a stool.

"Don't move unless you want to fall on your ass again." Julian smirked, skating off to grab a drink.

A few hours later, the floor had long melted, and the lobby was a mess.

"Twins! Cut it out!" Roy-Ben shouted, a fist full of the back of the twin's shirts in each hand, his efforts basically useless as their full foot of height difference gave them the advantage. Dwight followed in with rock salt and holy water in hand, passing Wes and David who were sawing logs, spooning on a black leather sofa.

A loud thunk and a stream of giggles were coming from the far end of the room, where Kurt was trying to help Blaine up from the floor. It was obvious that the soloist had had a few drinks too many, Kurt was simply tipsy.

Chaz rolled his eyes and helped Blaine to his feet, also attempting to keep Kurt up right at the same time.

A few hours into the party, Blaine had sent Shane to bed after his brother had started losing key articles of clothing, such as shirts and pants. (This is why Shane should never get his hands on booze, the boy turns into a veteran stripper.) Reed had followed to make sure Shane didn't fall on the staircase or somehow find his way over the railing and into the Atlantic Ocean.

After the ice had sufficiently thawed during the duration of the party, Logan found it safe to drink without nearly dying on the way to the bar, and drink he did.

The blonde was currently leaning on the porthole ledge, trying to get the room to stop spinning. Julian's obnoxiously loud laugh was making it hard to concentrate on keeping all the booze from coming back up.

"Shut the hell up." Logan groaned in agony.

"What's wrong with him?" Derek said in concern, walking over after downing yet another shot of tequila.

"Apparently, behavioral meds do not mix with six different types of alcohol, lime, and salt." Julian said with cutting sarcasm.

Derek immediately helped the blonde to his feet and with the reluctant help of Julian, dragged the blonde back to his room.

The plopped Logan down on his bed gently, the blonde emitting a soft, pained groan as they did so.

"How're you feeling?" Derek asked. He'd dealt with it all before. This wasn't serious, but it was good for someone to keep an eye on him. It wasn't pretty now, it'd be twice as bad in the morning.

"Sloshy." Logan muttered, suddenly flailing away when someone's fingertip poked him hard in the stomach.

"Jules!" Derek shouted.

"Sorry, it was tempting." Julian retorted with a snicker.

"Don't poke Logan. You can give him hell when he wakes up, then he'll be in pain and hungover." Derek snorted.

"Like I can describe that time I played that psychopathic murderer in that horror movie-"

Julian was cut off by another one of Logan's groans.

"God, no. Jules, spare me. Be a decent human being for once." Logan said, making a disgusted face.

"And I had to murder that one guy. And his spinal cord came tearing clean out of his back with all that blood and that huge crunch noise-"

Logan gagged.

"I hate you so fucking much right now."

"I know." Julian grinned.

"Once again, I'm leaving you two lovebirds here. Hopefully the hobbit isn't back to the room yet." Derek said, turning on his heel to leave.

"Gonna lock him out?" Julian smirked.

"Yep." Derek called with a grin, shutting the door behind himself.

Julian yawned, he was a little...okay, a lot tipsy himself, but coming from a background of L.A Partying, this was nothing he couldn't handle in the morning.

"Lay down if you're tired." Logan muttered, gesturing with one arm to the space on the bed beside him.

"What…? Me? Share a bed with you? No way in hell, your majesty." Julian snorted as he crossed the room to the curtain divider, which was still pulled shut from when Dwight had been hiding behind it. The brunette's eyes widened.

There was no sofa. The sofa was gone.

This was some sick, twisted idea of the Brightmans, no doubt.

"The couch is gone." Julian deadpanned, walking back over to Logan's side of the room.

"Twins." Julian said, opening the dresser containing Logan's clothes and rifling through it.

"Get out of my stuff." Logan snapped, whining when his stomach gurgled loudly.

"Shut up. I'm improvising." Julian muttered, pulling a dark red hoodie out. Logan's fencing hoodie.

"What're you doing-"Logan questioned as Julian pulled the sweatshirt on over his thin short sleeved button down. It was a little bit long on the actor, but it would suffice as some sort of blanket in the strongly air-conditioned room.

"Shut up." Julian muttered once more, grabbing a spare pillow and flopping down on the carpet.

"…So you're wrapping up in my hoodie, and sleeping on the floor. I'm not gonna roll over in my sleep and murder you or something, I promise." Logan muttered into the blankets, his words starting to get a little garbled from both the seeping effects of the alcohol and the dull pain gradually lulling him to sleep.

"I don't care. I like the floor." Julian retorted, curling up on his side like he normally did.

"Julian, come sleep up here. You're gonna feel like shit in the morning." Logan said, closing his eyes.

"What, little Logan Wright can't sleep on his own?"

"I can. I just thought you'd be more comfortable up here. It's warmer too."

"Since when do you care about me being comfortable?"

"Since you started sleeping on floors, wrapped up in my old hoodie for warmth. Am I that horrible that you've resorted to playing hobo?" Logan said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Shut up. Lemme sleep."

"Whatever, princess. Have it your way, then."

When Derek came back into their room in the morning, he'd find Julian (still wearing Logan's hoodie) curled up in the usual cat-like position, having moved from the floor to the bed.

Logan had his arms snugly around Julian, and was murmuring in his sleep, as he sometimes did when he had things on his mind…which was always, recently.

Derek simply grinned, taking out his iPhone and snapping a picture before walking out of the room, letting the door snap quietly behind him.

AN: Currently working on what direction I wanna go in with the story. Review!