Soda | A Jogan Headcanon
Julian mixes his sodas really intently while Logan is a soda purist—only Coke or Sprite, no mixing, no crazy flavors. He always raises his eyebrow when his boyfriend hogs the machine for three minutes in front of a 5 year old girl, making maddeningly precise little taps on the buttons. The thing is, he just doesn’t get it, and Julian only ever preens when he asks why, and loftily says ‘It’s an art.’
Then one day, Logan decides to try to convert his boyfriend—he just smirks at Julian and pointedly sucks on his straw, hollows his cheeks a bit, lets his eyelids flutter shut as he licks his lips, and next thing he knows Julian’s kissing him, deeply, like his life depends on it. He decides he’s won—Julian usually slaps away his hand when he slips it around his waist, furtively glancing around for any photographers, so this is…unexpected.
Then when they break apart, Julian leans over and just barely grazes his teeth over his pulse point where it jumps erratically, and that, Logan knows, is a promise.
He spends 5 minutes half-hard, dazedly drinking his really good soda and congratulating himself when Julian leans over for a sultry sip, before he realizes it doesn’t -quite- taste like Coke. Then Julian raises his eyebrow, looks pointedly at his own soda, then Logan’s, and smirks.
And then Logan goes beet-red—beaten at his own game—but still grudgingly approves in the back of his mind, because if anyone has the right to get the best of Logan Wright it’s his prissy boyfriend, and so he chases him to the car and pins him down in the backseat. He tries not to smile but it gets out anyway, then Julian grins back madly. You know what happens afterward. They get back to Dalton after curfew but it’s so, so worth it.