Chapter Text
It's been a few months since Disventure Camp Season 4, Carnival of Chaos, had ended. And life was good. Logan Bell, winner of Carnival of Chaos and Olympic bronze medalist, had finally got his own apartment, though it was more like a glorified dorm for the college swim team he was in, and picked up a degree in Environmental Engineering after taking a gap year, using a scholarship provided by the college's swim team and working part-time as a lifeguard at the cummunity pool uptown. He'd kept in touch with most of the contestants from Carnival of Chaos, like Jade who was out continuing her degree and career in Marine Biology, Isabel who found a new church and continued posting online, and Diego who was back in Colombia being a tour guide, among most of the other contestants too. Though only Hannah and Natalia lived close to him, so he was the closest to them, and he and Hannah also unofficially broke things off, but they're still good friends, Logan even thinks Hannah is talking to someone. How exciting. Things are truely looking perfect for Logan Bell.
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But anyway, enough about the past, right now is where everything begins.
Logan was invited by his swim teammates to go out to a little party to celebrate doing well in practices, so they went out to the bar that Hannah worked at. It was the kind of bar that looked like the owners were trying to mix it with a club, even though they stupidly still insisted it was a bar, with loud blaring music and a dance floor that should probably be renamed a grinding floor. So he threw on some jeans and a white-and-red shirt, plus an olive green puffer jacket, and joined the group near the bar, getting teased for looking like Scott Pilgrim, which he couldn't deny.
The hangout went as expected, with at least two people being blackout-drunk, a drinking contest that somehow didn't end up in a mass amount of puke from the winner and maybe loser, and getting free rounds because Hannah is absolutely amazing and the best ever. So here Logan was. Buzzed enough to not think too much, or at all, holding a cup of crappy beer and a shot of something mixed with lukewarm soda that Logan couldn't identify. "Dancing" to loud music that barely had any legible words, and watching as his friends slowly get picked off one by one by hot girls, which Logan totally wasn't jealous of or anything... Carefree and looking around for someone to dance with. But that's when Logan spots him. The last person he'd expect to be all the way in Waterloo, Canada, in a crappy club-bar.
Spencer Lawerence.
Spencer. Freaking. Lawerence.
He was leaning against a wall at the edge of the dance floor, holding one of those red solo cups, even though they weren't even sold here, looking around the dance floor like he had the same motive as Logan. He was wearing these bell-bottom jeans, and that green jacket he always seemed to be wearing that was slipping off his shoulders slightly in an annoyingly cool way, with a plain white shirt underneath. And... did he get a haircut? Not that Logan was staring or anything! Since he totally didn't still have a raging crush on that evil British twink. Totally... Yeah...
Logan couldn't stop staring. What was Spencer doing in Canada in the first place? And why was he at a bar? And who gave him the right to be that goddamn hot while doing it? Hannah hadn't noticed him yet luckily, she probably would've kicked Spencer out or something, needless to say she wasn't a fan of his playing style during the game... Logan, however, didn't care, not right now at least, too busy staring and wondering if this was just the alcohol speaking or something, but dammit, he wanted to approach Spencer so bad right now!
Finishing the rest of his drink, he mutters a quick bye to Hannah, though she most likely didn't even hear him, and sets the cup down as he makes his slightly drunk-off-his-ass way over to Spencer. The other clearly hadn't noticed him yet, so Logan opted to lean on the wall right next to Spencer, all cool-style with his hands in his pockets and looking away. Though he probably looked totally lame right now. "Um... heyyyy..." *Change that to definitely lame.*
Spencer finally looked up at him, though he didn't look the most surprised. His eyes were a bit closed and his gaze was relaxed, matching his slumped back posture. Yup, definitely drunk. "Heyyyy..."
Logan cleared his throat, not expecting to have a drunk Spencer on his hands now, and he tried to keep the little composure that he still had. "What're you like, doin' here? And what kind of drink is that? How many have you had?"
Spencer looked down at his cup for a moment, swishing the light brown liquid inside as he thought up a response. "Drinkin'... Obviously... And I don't know, some kind of sweet gin or guinnise or something with a shit ton of vodka. It tastes like crap. This is like me... I dunno, whichever number comes after... something."
"Just as I thought. You're drunk off your ass right now, probably don't even recognize me."
"Am notttt. And you are drunk too, moronnnn..."
"Yeah, but at least I'm not slurring my words."
Logan glanced around, wondering if Spencer came with anybody. Though, probably not, the Britain isn't exactly the most... social person ever. Nudging Spencer over to the bar area, which was surprisingly easy, he threw away the suspicious drink and instead ordered a water and a Rum and Coke. He hands the water over to Spencer, who drinks it without asking what it is, and drinks the Rum and Coke himself. Probably not the best idea, but at least he probably won't have to remember this awkward night tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow...
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Logan must have angered the drinking gods because he woke up with the worst headache ever at eight thirteen in the morning. At least he didn't sleep in til noon... Sitting up with a groan, he grabs whatever's nearest on his nightstand next to his bed, which thankfully happens to be a slightly-drinken glass of water on there, so he chugs it like a thirsty man in a desert, along with some Advil in his nightstand drawer, and his headache is reduced to only a mild pain. Setting the glass back down, it bumps into something. Glasses? Did he bring some girl home last night? Weird, he doesn't feel sore, so he takes another look around. His pants and shirt are on the floor next to him, leaving him just in his boxers. Did he... with a random girl... last night? Cauciously, he takes a look beside him and-
His breath hitches.
Oh no.
Oh no no no no no.
WHY WAS SPENCER LAWERENCE ASLEEP IN HIS BED NEXT TO HIM?!
To make it worse, Spencer was also in his boxers, meaning that his clothes were probably somewhere around Logan's apartment. And speaking of Logan. He's FREAKING OUT! Trying to remember what happened last night. Did he take Spencer home with him? Did they do the... devil's tango? Oh god oh god oh god-
A sudden grunt and shift from Spencer nearly makes him pass out, though the other thankfully stays peacefully asleep, completely unaware of this swful perdiciment. Tryint to think back to last night, Logan tries to remember lasy nighy and luckily, he does! After getting drunk, he brought Spencer back home with him to help him, and they ended up both passing out in his bed. No sex happaning whatsoever. Though Hannah and Natalia would probably both still tear into him either way.
Sighing, he gets up because he deosn't wanna be caught in his bed and without any food or drinks. That'd just be rude. So off to the kitchen he went to cook breakfast, though cook was a strong word, he actually just poured to bowls of cerel and some spoons that thankfully weren't dirty. But then, he hears as something happens.
Spencer statrts to stir and then he wakes up.