#nathan Prescott x warren graham

[anincurableich]

u guys... I just uploaded chapter one of Girls Like Natalie and it's basically what if grahamscott and eveythung but Nathan is transfem. courtesy of @freeznpenguin

Go read if that's up your alleyway

[heuhuewaves]

lust for life: the playlist

OK SOOOOO, i made a playlist for lust for life! in case ur just coming across this post and have no idea what im talking about, lust for life is the grahamscott fic ive been writing since the beginning of the year.

i will be adding to this playlist as times goes on. ALSO, im still writing this fanfic. college has just been kicking my ass like no other. hope you guys end up enjoying this playlist!

the playlist

lust for life

[imthejudge]

make sense of me

Warren Graham x Nathan Prescott

Chapter Five Word Count: 11,914

Chapter Four

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

Read on Archive

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41111322/chapters/113043922

-

Chapter Five: destructive qualities

“Are you even listening, Nathan?”

Huh?

A camera flash lights up the pitch black room momentarily. Nathan squints his eyes, both in confusion and disorientation. Where is he? Where’s Warren?

Another flash, and this time Nathan takes in the stark image of the darkroom. Jefferson’s darkroom. His darkroom.

He’s suddenly petrified in place, his gut twisting as unease settles across his skin, making it prickle, making it numb.

No.

He feels sick.

Nononononono.

The blinding light signals another snapshot and his eyes dart around frantically. Trying to take in as much as he can. As much as he doesn’t want to. He can’t stop himself. Black and white and sterile. That’s how he remembers it.

“Nathan, Jesus Christ. Pay attention! Am I wasting my time here? Do you know how valuable what I am trying to teach you is?”

His voice… it sends a chill like a sharp blade along his spine. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go back. He wants to wake up. A sudden dread like lead fills his stomach at the realization, is this even a dream?

White light, another flash. And another. Nathan stumbles back, but someone grabs onto his arm with a grip like a vice and pulls him forward. “Heyheyhey, you’re not going all psychotic on me, are you Nate? I told you only I can help you with that.” Nathan can see him, he leers over him mere inches above him, bringing up a white gloved hand to pat Nathan’s cheek harshly and forcing Nathan to look up at his face. The stark light of the camera flash reflects on his glasses, hiding his eyes behind them.

There’s a noise that sounds like a whimper echoing off the hard walls. He almost mistakes it for his own. It isn’t. It isn’t his. The blood that’s rushing in his ears fades to leave nothing but the quiet. And that noise. That awful noise.

She’s here. He knows she’s here.

rachelinthedarkroomrachelinthedarkroomrachelinthedarkroomrachelinthedarkroom.

His hands begin to shake like they did when he scribbled those words over and over again. Going through his mind on repeat. He thinks he’s going to black out, hopes he might. Just to make it all go away.

Then someone grips his shoulder, but it’s not as rough, and Nathan jolts awake.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Nathan’s vision is filled with light. Not harsh like a moment ago. Soft sunlight. And Warren’s there, taking up the entirety of what he can see. His brows creased in concern and eyes so wide that Nathan can see everything that’s reflected inside of them. He’s gripping both his shoulders, tightly, and holding Nathan in such close proximity that he could feel his breath when he spoke.

They’re still in bed. Lou’s bed. Lou’s room. In 1983. He lets out a shaky breath filled with relief. He notes how in his state of alarm, he’d reached out to hold onto Warren, too, and promptly drops his hands from either side of his arms. But Warren doesn’t let up, and somehow after Nathan’s recovered somewhat–and he knows it was just a dream–he’s surprised at how the contact and concern doesn’t send a spike of irritation through him like it usually does.

“Yeah. I’m fine now.”

“You’re all sweaty.” Warren finally lets go, though it’s with clear hesitation. “You looked like a deer in the headlights for a second there.”

“I had a nightmare.”

“I’d say. You sure you’re okay?”

Nathan nods his head, peeling himself from the sheets and out of the bed to walk on shaky legs towards the door. “I just need a minute.” He doesn’t wait for a response, or even look back over his shoulder. His feet drag along the carpeted hallway, carrying him to the washroom. Once he’s inside he aims himself towards the sink, aware of how his feet pad across the grimy floor tiles. He is sweaty, shirt clinging to his chest and pants sticking to his legs uncomfortably.

He turns the tap, collecting the cold water in his hands to splash onto his face. It sends a shiver down his body, but it helps clear his mind. If only slightly. He can still see the flash of the camera when he closes his eyes. Lighting up Jefferson's face. Then Rachel’s. He rubs at them, pressing his fingers into the hollow space so roughly to the point where he begins to see stars.

He can't reach him here.

There’s a lightness that comes with knowing that, like a heavy weight that’s been lifted from his chest. He takes in a deep breath, one he imagines expanding his ribs, counting to three before exhaling out of his mouth. He opens his eyes but doesn’t have it in him to meet his reflection. Too afraid he might throw his fist to collide there and send a thousand different versions of himself to collide with the floor, all noise and jagged edges. So he turns his back on the mirror, raising a still wet hand to run through his hair.

It seems that even being transported to a different time didn’t stop his nightmares from following him. But at least he can wake up, something that didn’t seem possible in the future reality he’d been living. Here he could escape.

Nathan drags a hand over his face, fingers grazing across the still raised lines where Max had scratched him. It doesn't feel as sensitive as before, but he’s still surprised by them, serving as a reminder to what happened. And to what Warren had said to him last night.

Yeah. You’re a shitty person. Nathan doesn’t need to turn around and point at his reflection while yelling the thought for him to believe it. What’s changed?

Nothing. Nothing’s changed.

-

He’s back in Lou’s room a few minutes later, closing the door behind him. Warren’s moved only slightly from his position on the bed to sit at the end of it, his legs dangling off the edge and staring expectantly at Nathan.

Nathan doesn’t say anything, and he can tell Warren’s trying really hard not to, either. The way he chews at his bottom lip in a nervousness that Nathan’s picked up on early in their acquaintance with one another. It’s something Warren does when he wants to say something really badly, but also doesn’t want to overstep like he almost always does.

“You knew Rachel.”

Nathan tenses up instantly. He was prepared for Warren to lose his internal battle, but he certainly wasn’t expecting those to be the words that slip from his mouth. Nathan briefly wonders if he’s still stuck in a dream. That the flesh will melt from Warren’s face to morph into that of Jefferson’s. Following him here so he can haunt Nathan further. But it doesn’t happen. Warren remains with his wide eyed gaze directed up at him. Open and somehow so intimidating that Nathan has to look away.

“You kept repeating her name in your sleep. During your nightmare.”

“No I wasn’t.” Nathan quickly retorts. Warren doesn’t argue, but he presses his lips together in a way that tells Nathan he’s not convinced. At each side, Nathan’s hands begin to shake. He instinctively balls them into fists, bringing them up to hold in front of himself.

“Nathan…” Warren starts slowly. And Nathan lets him. He doesn’t know why, he’s desperate to shut it down by yelling at Warren to stop talking. Like he always does. But he doesn’t. “Do you know anything about what might’ve happened to–”

Before the conversation can escalate any further, a knock at the door sounds out and instantly stills the air. They both whip their heads in the direction of the noise, momentarily struck by its interruption. Then Warren gets up from his seat at the edge of the bed to answer it and Nathan’s filled with relief at its disruption.

“Hope you guys like breakfast burritos.” Lou’s voice can be heard from the hallway on the other side of the door. Warren widens it from the original few inches he’d opened it to and Lou comes in with a couple of bags in her hands. “I brought some other things, too. Some clothes and toiletries, I’m sure you’re both desperate for a little bit of basic personal hygiene.”

Nathan can’t express how badly he craves a shower, though he doesn’t need to when Warren expresses it enough for the both of them with a drawn out, “You have noooooo ideaaaa.”

“You’re a life saver, Lou. Warren was starting to attract flies.” Nathan angles himself away as he takes one of the bags from Lou to hide his triumphant smile when Warren stands open-mouthed in shock.

“Do I smell that bad?” and as if proving Nathan’s internal view of Warren as the stereotypical teenage smelly boy he is, Warren raises his arm in a dog-like manner to take a whiff of his armpit. Lou’s expression scrunches up in a sympathetic way that only further cements the look of horror on Warren’s face. “Why did no one tell me?!”

“Just did.” Nathan’s digging in the bag he’d grabbed to fish out a bottle of body wash, chucking it Warren’s way with unnecessary force, “here you go, stinky.”

Warren catches it, though barely and with a significant lack of grace before Lou chimes in, “I picked out some stuff you can put on once you’re all cleaned up in here.” She hands him the bag she still holds onto. “There should be a towel in there for you, too.”

Juggling everything in his hands–plus the additional bottles of shampoo and conditioner that Nathan piles on–Warren inches towards the door. “Guess I’m taking a shower then.” He hesitates for a second, turning back to Nathan with a hushed tone, “I mean, uh, unless you want me to stay–”

Nathan rolls his eyes, opening the door for Warren, “just go.” He closes the door again after ushering Warren out, turning to face Lou on the other side of the room. She sends him an easygoing smile while unpacking the rest of the stuff from the bag Nathan had taken earlier. He’s slightly hung up on how much the mannerism reflects Warren, really taking in the resemblance they share. It makes him wonder how similar he might look to his father. The teenage version of him Nathan saw the day prior. He hadn’t had the mental capacity to think over it before. And now he finds the comparison makes him feel somewhat sick.

“Did you two sleep alright?” Lou eyes Nathan.

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” It isn’t a lie–nor an exaggeration either–as far as his nightmares go, the one he’d woken up from that morning was tame. And compared to the complete lack of sleep he’d had the night before, it was certainly better than nothing. Slightly sweaty was a step up from being drenched, which was a daily occurrence for him before being brought to the past. And mentally going over where you’ve last hidden your gun each morning. A small detail he hasn’t had to worry about since coming here. “Thanks, by the way.” Lou raises an eyebrow at him. “For giving us a place to stay. And buying us food. All of your help, really.” He’s aware of how fucked he and Warren would have been if it wasn’t for her. “Warren’s real lucky to have someone like you. And to have that extend over to me…”

Lou’s waving her hand in dismissal before he’s even finished talking, “it’s nothing. You’re Warren’s friend. As strange as this whole thing is, I guess that kind’ve makes you part of the family. Besides, I’ve watched way too much sci-fi shit to be that phased over how weird this all is, if I’m being honest.”

Guilt washes over Nathan in a wave. He isn’t a friend to Warren. He’s gone as far as yelling at him to confirm that they aren’t. He’d been adamant on the fact because he’d convinced himself that nobody cares. Not really. Even when they seem like they do. Even when they swear that they do. Who was Warren to be any different? But now…Nathan’s torn. He’s not so sure what to believe anymore.

He doesn’t find a sufficient way to continue his conversation with Lou, so he doesn’t. Instead, he begins to drift around the room while he waits for Warren to return. And even though it’s just him and Lou, he doesn’t find it awkward.

Gliding his fingers along one of the bookcases lining the walls, Nathan stops short when he sees an old camera tucked away in one of the corners. With his curiosity getting the better of him, he carefully pries it out to examine it in his hands more closely. It’s a film camera. A Canon AF35M, to be exact. He’s always appreciated the classic look of film to digital, preferring to use a film camera himself.

“Oh, that? That’s Harry’s, he doesn’t use it much anymore since I got him the new model for his birthday earlier this year. You’re free to use it, if you’d like. Warren mentioned you do photography.”

Nathan looks up, slightly surprised, “he did?”

“Yeah, said you never go anywhere without your camera. I’d meant to look for it, though it looks like you beat me to it.”

He looks back down at the camera. He hadn’t touched his own for weeks now. Not since working with Jefferson. In the dark room. Nathan no longer felt the drive to hone his talents because it only left him feeling sick. Like he was back there. Like that part of him was ruined and never to be restored. Corrupted. Because of what he’s done. Losing the one thing he believed he held any real grip over in his life. But just as everything else, he didn’t know how easily that, too, had slipped from his grasp.

Nathan swallows, his throat having gone dry. “No, I shouldn’t.” With shaky fingers, he goes to place the camera back in the spot he found it, but Lou’s hand stops him.

“Please, take it. I should have some batteries lying around somewhere, and I think Harry left some colour film inside it still.” She moves to open a couple of drawers in search of batteries, finding a pair with a triumphant ‘ah ha’ and throwing them Nathan’s way. “Pop these in.” With some reluctance, Nathan complies. And once he’s secured both batteries in their place, him and Lou peer over it in anticipation. “Is it working?” Lou questions over his shoulder.

“Only one way to find out,” Nathan presses down on the shutter lightly until a red light pops up, bringing the camera up to his face. Just as he does so, the door swings open with Warren’s re-arrival. Nathan lifts his gaze through the viewfinder to find Warren decked out in his new 80s attire, an oversized–though, not intentionally–white collared shirt tucked into dark brown corduroy pants fitted with a thick, black belt. Nathan’s a little hung up on the image of Warren, looking quite put together. He comes in with one hand holding up the pyjamas he’s changed out of and the other branding a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste in a way like he just caught a pair of prize fish. “Smile, Graham.” Warren freezes in obvious surprise for only a fraction of a second before his expression breaks out into a wide grin, flashing his newly cleaned teeth.

The camera clicks then whirs to indicate it’s moving on to the next shot. “You found a camera! That’s awesome!” Warren excitedly bounds up to him, tilting his head expectantly as if to see the result of the photo. “Oh, I guess we have to wait to develop them.”

“So it goes,” Lou sighs before picking up the coat she discarded after first arriving. “Anyways, I’m going to head to the lab to get a head start with the reactor. You two take your time and meet me there once you’re ready, alright?” She gestures an open hand at the covered reactor that’s stashed away in the corner next to where Warren stands.

He bends down to grab it and hands it over to her. “Okay, we’ll see you soon then… if you’re sure you don’t need he–”

“I’m sure,” she sends them a wink, already halfway out of the door. “Stay out of trouble!” And then Lou’s gone.

Warren still stands at Nathan’s side, close enough that he gets a whiff of the shampoo Warren used. Nathan’s eyeing him, taking in his damp hair that begins to curl in at his neck as it’s drying. Not a hint of product to tame the wild state it’s in, pieces falling in front of his face haphazardly. Effortlessly styled. Nathan internally grieves for his own hair.

“Oh, right–sorry. Personal space,” Warren holds his hands up innocently, taking a step back. Nathan remains rooted to his spot, frowning slightly.

“I wasn’t–”

“I never should’ve–”

They both start at the same time, cutting off what they’re saying in tandem to wait for the other to continue. “What were you going to say?” Nathan asks before Warren has the chance to first. Warren looks down, chewing his lip as if in contemplation of whether to actually commit to what he began.

“I was going to say,” he clears his throat. “That I shouldn’t have asked you about, uh… I shouldn’t have said anything earlier. I realized it might’ve come off like some sort of interrogation or something and I… didn’t mean it like that. Just, after last night I thought if you ever did feel like talking, that I’m, um. Here.”

Nathan doesn’t say anything, in truth he has no idea how to respond. When Warren first mentioned Rachel, Nathan had been too shaken up to notice he was asking from a place of worry. Too wrapped up in his sense of suffocating guilt that his fight or flight instincts were the only thing left to kick in and maneuver the situation. He had felt interrogated. He felt blamed. And in turn he’d become defensive. Because he is to blame.

Warren twists his hands together, expression scrunching up in unison. “Sorry, I’m overstepping again–just act like I didn’t open my stupid mouth–”

“It’s okay,” Nathan interjects before Warren has the chance to spiral further. “Thanks.”

The evident panic in Warren’s eyes dissipates, letting out a breathy, “sure.” Then he’s bringing up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, a small smile curling the corners of his lips. Nathan’s attention is acutely drawn to it, aware of how awkward it’s become between them. He sharply turns away, busying himself with the handful of items he needs for getting ready.

The sound of the bed creaking makes him stop, peering back over his shoulder to see Warren settled back on its edge. He’s looking around the room in a way Nathan knows it absent of any thought. “What’re you doing?”

Warren’s focus snaps back to Nathan, blinking at him. “...waiting for you?”

“...why?” Nathan questions Warren with genuine inquiry, though he’s aware it likely comes off more scrutinizing than anything else. Warren, in turn, looks vaguely terrified, so Nathan continues, “if you’re ready, you can go meet up with Lou. I’ll catch up with you once I’m finished. I know you’re probably dying to get back to it.”

“Oh. yeah,” Warren jumps up as if he’d been electrocuted. “Yeah. Totally. Sure.”

Warren doesn’t move, prompting Nathan to gesture toward the door, “okayyyy. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Right.” Warren finally goes to leave, casually tripping over something as he starts to walk past Nathan.

Without much thought, Nathan holds up a hand, making contact with Warren’s chest to stop him. “Hold up, give me the dorm room key before you go.” Warren’s eyes grow wide before he wordlessly complies by fumbling to dig into his pocket. He manages to retrieve it, handing it to Nathan, who finally lowers his hand.

Warren continues standing there until Nathan gives him a weird look, setting him into motion once more. “Okay. See ya.”

Then he’s gone, though, barely a minute passes before there’s a knock at the door. When Nathan opens it, he’s not surprised to see Warren standing there with a grimace, pointing inside the room behind him, “I, uh, forgot my shoes.”

Nathan looks back to see Warren’s shoes lying in the middle of the room. The same obstacle he’d tripped over on his way out prior. Nathan widens the door with a flat expression waiting as Warren creeps back in and hastily puts his shoes on, then sending an embarrassed smile at Nathan on his way back out.

Nathan rolls his eyes as he closes the door behind him, for what he thinks is the final time. But when he turns around he immediately zeros in on the pair of breakfast burritos Lou brought them still sitting on the desk.

He groans, snatching one up and storming out of the room. Warren’s halfway down the hallway when Nathan calls out to him, sending the burrito flying down the dormitories before he’s even fully turned around, “hey dipshit, you forgot this, too!”

-

The scalding temperature of the water hitting his skin underneath the harsh stream of the shower always serves as a contrast to the numbness. It’s become a distraction from the consistent thoughts that circle through his head.

Jefferson. The darkroom. Rachel. The darkroom. Warren…

Warren. A new addition to his thoughts, but not one as unwelcome as the others. A new distraction.

Warren, who’d been there with Nathan after first waking up from his nightmare. A steady hand at his side, and a sight of almost instant alleviation. Nathan doesn’t know what to think of that.

He attempts not to think of it at all, though not with as much fear induced resilience that he is used to forcing upon himself. Nor with being bothered by the fact that his mind lingers back to the subject anyways, to the point where he is able to lessen the intensity of the water's heat and remain in the shower for longer than he usually would.

It’s nice, as he hasn’t had a chance to shower in forever. Feeling grimy, for once more in body than in soul. It feels good to rid himself of it.

When he’s done–and deems it’s been a sufficient amount of time–Nathan returns to Lou’s room to get dressed. He unpacks the last bag containing the change of clothes Lou brought him, pulling out a pair of classic 80s style blue denim jeans that he hoists on. Digging into the bottom of the bag, he lifts out a tight, plaid button down shirt. Nathan hesitates, it’s atrocious. Big, bright blue and orange squares make up the design and Nathan knows he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it. He holds it at arm's length, letting it plop back into the bag. No thanks.

Nathan scans the room for something else. Anything else, stopping when he gets to the discarded pile of pyjamas on the bed that Warren left. Picking up the oversized Grease shirt, he gives it a whiff to make sure it’s even acceptable enough to wear. It smells like… well, it smells like Warren. Like how his sweater smells. It’s indescribable, but not unpleasant.

As Nathan pulls it over his head and proceeds to tuck the shirt into his jeans he briefly considers if his varsity jacket has his own similar distinguishable smell that Warren’s picked up on. And if it, too, isn’t considered unpleasant to him.

Warren had taken it again that morning when leaving. Wordlessly, and somehow as Nathan was hoping he’d do. It remained just as baggy on Warren as it did on Nathan, yet the way Warren holds himself in it is… Nathan doesn’t know. It’s indescribable. Just as the scent he leaves behind on his clothes. He doesn’t know how to describe it, but he knows he likes it.

He likes the way Warren’s hands disappear into the sleeves. He likes the way it drapes across his slender shoulders. He likes the way it swallows him whole. He likes the way his brown hair looks in contrast to the maroon of the jacket. A piece of Nathan that Warren wants to have around. A piece of Nathan that doesn’t hurt anyone.

He even likes the stupid way Warren flaps his arms like a stupid bird in those stupid oversized sleeves when he gets caught up in his rambling. The thought makes the corners of his lips quirk upward. Then he rolls his eyes–at himself more than anything else. Ridiculous.

Nathan grabs Warren’s sweater instinctively as part of their newly formed habit, after being reminded from the thought of his jacket. He’d been fond of it even before Warren offered it to him their first night, having been surprised at someone like Warren owning such a piece. Though, not as surprised as when Warren had done the gesture of offering it to him for the night. A surprise that, at the time, had been misinterpreted as disgust–clearly indicated by Warren’s reaction.

He puts it on now, pretty much ready to meet up with Warren and Lou at the lab. But when he goes to look for his shoes, he can’t find them. They’re nowhere near the door where he is sure he kicked them off the previous night. Checking underneath the bed–in case they’d managed to find their way there in the haze of that night–or the corners of the small dorm room proves just as fruitless.

For a split-second Nathan wonders if Warren had taken those, too–but no, Nathan saw him put on his own shoes earlier when he’d–miraculously–forgotten to do so originally after leaving for the lab. With little motivation to continue his search, he eventually gives up. It’s not something Nathan’s extremely hung up on. In complete truth, Nathan’s not bothered at all.

He finds a pair of worn, white converse beside the desk that he pulls onto his feet instead. Lou’s, perhaps, but still in a size that’s comfortable enough to wear. And then he’s straightening up to reach for the doorknob, but something makes him hesitate. On top of the tables sits the camera Lou insisted he use. He’d put it there before he left to shower with no intention to actually pick it back up. The offer was kind, though Nathan doesn’t know if he’s ready to use it.

You don’t deserve it. Warren would think otherwise. But he doesn’t know the extent of what you’ve done.  

Nathan turns away from the camera to face the door, opening it but not leaving. In an impulsive decision, he grabs at the camera and slings it onto his shoulder to cross his body.

Fuck it.

-

Nathan’s outside the lab that the three of them spent the majority of the previous day at, turning the handle to meet with Warren and Lou inside. They don’t so much as glance up at his arrival, heads downturned as they mull over their project and commune in low voices. Nathan couldn’t imagine being so engrossed by something.

Focusing on Warren, Nathan takes in how concentrated he is, never having seen the guy so serious with his eyebrows drawn together and using some plier-looking-type tool to work on something within the disembowelled reactor.

Warren and Lou’s heads are side by side, looking almost like twins as they work away. And with the way the sunlight streams into the lab, Nathan almost wishes he can encapsulate this moment for Warren to look back on. He remembers the film camera now slung across his body, suddenly thankful he’d made the last minute decision to take it with him in the end.

Lining up the shot, Nathan holds his breath before committing to the frame and pressing down on the shutter. The mechanical noise emitting from the camera disturbs the peaceful quiet of the room. Warren’s head immediately snaps up at Nathan, his mouth hung open like he’d been mid-sentence. A second later, his face breaks as he beams at Nathan. Smiling so wide–at Nathan. Like he’s happy to see him.

There’s a tightening in Nathan’s chest that extends to his throat for a fracture of a second because… he can’t recall the last time someone looked at him that way. Not his mom, certainly not his dad. He hasn’t seen his sister in years. Even Vic, who he considers his closest friend, hadn't directed a smile his way that wasn’t filled with reservation for so long he forgets what genuine affection looks like from her anymore.

Nathan doesn’t know what to do with… that. Seizing up as his fight or flight instinct kicks in and settles on freezing in place instead when Warren drops what it is he’s doing.

“Hey!” Warren rounds the lab bench and is bounding up to Nathan’s side. “So I have some good news! Lou and I think we can get the reactor working in time tomorrow to get home!”

Nathan’s stomach drops, “that’s great.”

“But there’s also some bad news…” Warren continues, “the material I used for the lining of the interior walls happens to be, uh…” He pauses to nervously rub at the back of his neck, and Nathan can’t help following the movement. Warren screws up his face before concluding, “pretty pricey.”

Nathan opens his mouth to respond, but Warren cuts back in before he has the chance. “But I have more good news!” Nathan closes his mouth, staring at him expectantly. “There’s a school dance happening tonight that Lou told me about, she said we should go, I think we should, too!”

He’s grasped onto Nathan’s arm in obvious excitement, shaking it a little. His eyes bear into Nathan’s with hopeful naivety and all Nathan can manage is a choked, “okay.”

“Sick!” Warren shakes Nathan’s arm a little more in emphasis before he drops it completely, seemingly distracted as his gaze drifts upward. “Your hair’s all wavy.”

It’s a simple observation, but it instantly makes Nathan feel too perceived. “I didn’t have any product.”

Without warning, Warren reaches out a hand to run through it, “I like it more like this.” Then he drops his hand to motion Nathan over to the lab bench where Lou still sits. “Come, let me show you what we’ve done so far.”

Nathan follows Warren wordlessly, stopping on the opposite side of the lab bench where the reactor sits with its door open. Lou flashes him a smile and a wink, “nice shoes.”

Nathan looks down at the converse strapped to his feet, “oh, I couldn’t find mine.”

“It’s my fault, your shoes were caked in mud so I took the liberty of getting them cleaned. I left those out for you.”

“M-mud?” Nathan stutters, frowning.

Lou cocks her head, “From the storm, perhaps? The one you two got caught in.”

“Yes, very cool, very spiffy new shoes. Nathan looks great in them, now if I can divert your attention over to the time machine…” Warren interrupts, tugging at Nathan’s sleeve in a way that would have made him deck anyone in the past. But instead of doing that–in front of his own mom, no less–Nathan gives Warren the attention he’s seeking.

He peers into the opening of the reactor as Warren begins shooting off about all the repairs and additions the two of them made so far to the inside. Nathan follows along for the first minute or so, until he’s completely lost. He flicks his eyes up at Warren, “no offense, Graham, but I have no idea what you’re talking about anymore.”

Warren drops the two screwdrivers he’d been using to point with–and that Nathan hadn’t realized he’d picked up during the process of his explanation–to meet Nathan’s gaze. “Oh, yeah. No worries. It’s kind’ve a lot, I know.” He’s turned a little red at the interruption and Nathan has to try hard to keep a smirk from twisting the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, I’m sure it’s all super impressive, buddy.”

Warren clears his throat as Lou swoops in, pointing to a single light silver-coloured wall on the inside, “Basically, we need more of this material to coat the inner walls of the reactor. This is about the extent of what Blackwell has to offer and we took it all. I don’t feel comfortable substituting the material with something else at the sake of it not working and, thus, not getting you two boys home. We can outsource it–in fact, I know a hardware store that carries it–but it’s not cheap.”

“How expensive are we talking?” Nathan asks.

Warren and Lou exchange a look before Lou responds. “I want to say it’s about 160 per wall so… almost 500 in total.”

Nathan nods his head. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” Warren sighs.

“But I have an idea where we might be able to find that much.”

Warren blinks up at Nathan, concern slowly creasing his features as the shock fades. “Why do I not have a good feeling about this…”

-

“I really don’t have a good feeling about this,” Warren whispers beside Nathan, so close that he thinks Warren might grab onto his arm again. This time lacking in exhilaration.

“Shhh, it’ll be fine.” There’s no need for them to whisper as Nathan leads them both down the hallway of the boys’ dorms. He then stops in front of one of the doors. “I think it’s this one.”

Warren almost knocks into him. “What if he’s in there?”

“He’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s not.” Nathan repeats.

“But how–”

“Okay, I don’t know! But could you please shut up?”

Warren’s expression still conveys his unease, but he does as Nathan asks and stops talking. Instead, he watches in horror as Nathan finds a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall and pries it off.

“I don’t think that’s a very–” Nathan interrupts what Warren’s saying as he forces the extinguisher down onto the doorknob. It smashes clean off. “–good Idea.” Warren finishes with added strain.

Nathan discards the extinguisher and pushes the door, swinging it open. They stare into darkness before Nathan flicks on the light switch. The room is in pristine condition, barely even lived in by the looks of it. There’s a bed similar to Lou’s and a matching desk. That’s where the similarities stop, sharing no same coziness that Lou’s room has. No posters hanging on the walls or books or memorabilia littering the space. No fun purple lava lamp that Warren geeked out over for a whole minute and that Nathan, too, has come to regard fondly over, either. It’s just…boring.

There’s nothing here that gives any sort of indication to who Nathan’s dad is as a teenager. Or maybe not what Nathan imagined his dad being like.

“Jeez, is your room this eerily clean, too? This a Prescott thing?” Warren questions as he gazes around the place.

“No.” Nathan hesitates, “I…I don’t think so.” Is his room like this? He shakes his head, pushing the thought from his mind and strides across the room to begin looking for places his dad might’ve tucked a stash of money. “Stand guard at the door in case he comes.”

Raiding his father’s dorm for cash probably isn’t the best idea, Nathan will admit. But seeing as they don’t have any other option, and little time, it still acts as a solution to their problem. Besides, what’s a little cash to someone like Sean Prescott?

He starts under the bed, not surprised when it’s barren, working his way over to the closet with no luck either. Eventually, he gets to the desk, pulling open each drawer in anticipation until he sees a wad of bills held together by an elastic band. “Score.” He counts a little over what they need.

Warren eyes him, “are you sure he’s not going to miss 500 bucks? That’s like…” Warren pauses for a second, “almost equivalent to 1000 dollars in our time.”

Nathan stops mid-closing the drawer to send a scowl Warren’s way, “did you… did you just do that math in your head?”

Warren shrugs, giving Nathan a lopsided smile, “inflation’s a bitch.”

“Whatever,” Nathan rolls his eyes. “And trust me. He can spare it.” He chucks the wad of cash Warren’s way as he squeezes past him through the doorframe. “Here, stash it in your pocket. I’ll be right back.”

Warren fumbles with the money, quickly shovelling it into the varsity jacket as he looks after Nathan with alarm, “where are you going!?”

“Just give me a sec!” Nathan calls over his shoulder. He darts into the washroom, diving into one of the stalls to yank out a roll of toilet paper from its dispenser. He does the same in the next stall over and hastily makes his way back to the room where Warren still peeks out of.

“What’re you doing?” Warren frowns, looking down at the rolls of toilet paper in Nathan’s hands, pressing himself into the door as Nathan slides back inside.

Nathan tosses one to him once inside, “ever TP’d a room before?”

Warren–to his character–effortlessly misses the roll thrown to him, bending down to pick it up. “Can’t say that I have… but, uh, why are we doing this?”

“It’s fun.” Nathan responds, holding one end in his hand while throwing the roll in an arc across the length of the room.

“Right…”

“And it will cover up the real reason we were in here. He’ll just think someone’s messing with him.”

“Oh,” Warren’s eyes light up, “that’s smart!” he lifts up his own roll, launching it straight at Nathan to pelt him in the face.

“Ow! The fuck was that, Graham?!”

“OhmyGod! I am soooo sorry–I didn’t mean–”

But Nathan’s laughing, because, ridiculous. Warren’s ridiculous. He grabs the roll from the floor, “here, nerd, give it another shot. Maybe hold onto the end of it this time, too?” Warren does try again, and this time he manages not to hit Nathan. Before long, the two decorate the entirety of the room, tossing their respective rolls around until streams of toilet paper hang all around them.

“That was fun,” Warren’s beaming at Nathan.

Nathan flings his empty cardboard roll at Warren in an attempt to make him stop smiling at him, “told ya.”

The sound of a door opening echoes in the hallway outside. Warren’s smile instantly drops from his face and he begins scurrying to the entrance of the room. “Shit, it’s him!” He turns his wide eyes back to Nathan.

“Fuck, let’s go!”

“What do we do?!”

“Run!” Nathan’s pushing Warren into the hallway, following after him.

“Excuse me, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Nathan doesn’t even look in the direction where he knows his dad’s coming from–who yells after them now–booking it the opposite way through the dorms and towards the back exit. He holds the backdoor open to usher Warren through, who flies past him and along the back pathway. They’ve barely taken any steps when the back door bursts open behind them. “Hey! Do you know who the fuck I am? Get back here!”

They book it through the main campus with Nathan’s dad hot on their heels. He hasn’t caught up to them, thankfully, but he’s fast, and Nathan’s quickly coming to the conclusion that he’s not as fit as he thought he was. Damn you cigarettes. Perhaps actually playing football in the past would have aided him in this sort of scenario.

“Where are we going??” Warren directs the question to Nathan as they run side by side, sprinting across the grass. A few students look up in interest as they pass. One kid–Argyle?–waggles a hang-loose sign, looking totally zenned out.

“Your car–parking lot,” Nathan responds with a laborious breath. He points to the stairs that lead down towards the lot, chancing a look over his shoulder to see his teenage dad coming at them full speed wearing a stern expression reminiscent of his future self, all too familiar to Nathan growing up. It sends a chill down his body. Too real.

He can practically taste freedom, jumping two steps at a time down the stairs. He’s halfway across the parking lot when–”Ouf!” Nathan whips around just in time to see Warren trip over the last step, crashing to the ground.

“Graham–!”

Nathan’s dad is on him in the next instant, “oh no you don’t, you little shit!” He punches him in the stomach, causing Warren to curl in on himself and roll further into the parking lot, but it doesn’t stop his dad from grabbing at his shoulder to pin Warren back down on his back again. He raises his fist, this time aiming for his face.

The image fills Nathan with a deep-set rage, almost blinded by it, clenching his jaw and charging toward his father. “Get. The fuck. Off him.” He grabs at the raised arm, dragging him off of Warren and onto the ground, throwing his own punch to meet with his face. It’s obvious that his dad hadn’t expected that, startled as he looks up at Nathan.

“Who the fuck–”

“Shut up!” Nathan sends his fist downward again, knocking into his cheek, then his abdomen. He coughs, mimicking the same movement of curling up and falling to the side. Nathan uses it as an opportunity to see if Warren’s okay. He seems to be, as he manages to get back onto his feet. “Go–get to the car!” Warren stares at him in shock. “Now!” He snaps out of it, quickly nodding before he turns away.

Nathan doesn’t anticipate the blow to the side of his head, or how he falls face first onto the gritty asphalt. Pain explodes along the bridge of his nose all the way up to his brow, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it when hands flip him back around. He squints against the bright sky before it’s blotted out with the silhouette of a fist that hovers for only a second, colliding with his nose the next.

His hands fly up to cover his face, gasping for air but choking on his own blood as it begins to run into his throat and pool there. He tries to sit up, but arms pin him down. He can’t see from behind the stars that dance across his vision and once again he feels the brutal strike of a punch against his temple.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” He hears Warren from somewhere above him, then the crushing weight from on top of him is lifted. The muffled grunt of who he assumes is his dad comes from his other side and Nathan scrambles upright, spitting blood in an attempt to breathe. “Come on!’ A gentle hand cups around his arm, helping him up. Nathan blinks, his vision returning to make out Warren’s face–plastered with concern–and beyond him, his car, its doors open and the engine running.

Nathan never thought he’d be so glad to see the old piece of junk, letting Warren guide him back on his feet before throwing himself into the passenger's side of the car. One hand stays pressed over his nose while the other grasps at the door, bringing it towards him to close with haste. Warren’s already beside him, throwing the stick shift into drive and flooring it.

Without the necessity, but with a brash and impulsive decision, Nathan rolls down the window as they rip out of the parking lot. He flings up a middle finger just as his dad struggles to his feet. “Fuck you, Prescott!” he yells the words, though they come out somewhat muffled and wet. But God does it feel good.

“You have no idea what you fucking freaks have gotten yourselves into! Wait ‘til I tell my father about this bullshit! My family will ruin you” He distantly shouts in return, waving a bloody fist in the air. Nathan’s laughing hysterically all the while, probably a hell of a sight with his bloodied teeth and almost broken nose.

“OhGodohGodohGod, are you alright?” Warren’s freaking out, hands clenched around the steering wheel and casting worried glances at Nathan periodically. Periodically meaning every other second.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re fine? How can you be fine!? Your nose–”

“I’m fineeeeee, see?” Nathan adjusts the hand covering his nose to grin at Warren. In return, Warren's face grows a shade paler.

“We should go back–get you to the school nurse–”

Nathan groans, “no, we shouldn’t. I just need some ice. Pull into the first gas station you see.” Warren’s brow creases together and he chews at his bottom lip, but he doesn’t argue further.

Five minutes later, they're pulling into an E-Z Gas. Warren wastes no time as he’s already whipping off his seatbelt and climbing out of the car, “stay right there, I’ll be back in a second!”

Nathan nods from his seated position with his head leaning back against the headrest and his eyes shut. Only as soon as Warren’s left, Nathan proceeds to grapple for the car handle and roll out. He needs fresh air, though he leans heavily on the side of the car as he discovers some bruised ribs at the movement.

Managing to move himself to the front of the car, Nathan props himself up so he can sit on the hood. Warren’s back after only a few minutes, rushing out of the gas station store cradling something that is definitely not ice. “They ran out of ice so I got you a bag of frozen peas instead.”

“Thanks,” Nathan murmurs, lifting out his unbloodied, unused hand.

Warren swats it away, “move your hand, let me see.” Nathan rolls his eyes, but complies, dropping his hand. Warren winces, then steadily raises the peas. He delicately presses over the bridge of his nose, and even though the contact is so carefully done, Nathan inhales sharply through his teeth from the way it stings. “Sorry–I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Nathan squeezes his eyes shut, but finds the pain to be more unbearable when he does. So he opens them, trying to focus on something to ease the sting. For a second all he sees is the vibrant green of the bag until it shifts and Warren comes into view. He’s super focused, brow low like it had been in the lab earlier that day. Lips pressed together in concentration as he studies Nathan’s nose and the gentle application of pressure against it.

Fingers lightly touch the bottom of his chin and Nathan jolts. “Hold still,” Warren breathes out. Nathan does instantly, not daring to breathe himself. He doesn’t even blink, staring at the curve of Warren’s nose that is mere inches from his own face. How had Nathan so carelessly thrown a fist to it not even a week ago? There isn’t any evidence of it happening left to observe, and Nathan doesn’t know if that’s better or if he should be reminded of what he’s done by the fact being evident. Either way, there is a deep regret that comes with the acknowledgement.

Eventually, Warren lowers the bag and hands him a white shirt. Nathan frowns, holding it up to see an obnoxiously bright print reading ‘I Visited Arcadia Bay!’ with a heart and a lighthouse on either side. Nathan peeks around it at Warren with a raised eyebrow.

“I panicked, okay? I didn’t think tissues were going to cut it so I grabbed that.” Nathan refrains from saying anything as he balls it up and holds it under his nose. It’s substantially numb now, so the bleeding has subsided. His eyes idly travel back upward, aware of how close Warren stands in between his legs, still clutching his now partially thawed bag of peas.

Warren seems to notice, too, taking a step back and clearing his throat. He nervously rubs a hand at the back of his neck, “man, he really fucked you up, huh.”

“Yeah. Are you alright?”

Warren waves a hand in dismissal, taking a seat beside Nathan on the hood of the car, “pshh, yeah. My pride’s mostly hurt from taking that dumb fall. Scraped my knee up, but other than that, it’s not so bad. I’ve definitely had worse–” he cuts himself off.

Nathan flinches, realizing he’s alluding to when Nathan did pretty much the exact same thing to him in the exact same parking lot not so long ago. There’s something so cruelly ironic about it. And now he's helping you.

He wants to apologize, the need overtakes him so suddenly. But when he opens his mouth the words can’t come out. They physically don’t manifest, and he realizes it’s because he’s…too afraid.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” so casually put but for the fact that Warren says it so softly, his big, doe-like eyes shyly aimed towards Nathan. So open.

Nathan sighs, “well, I’m glad he beat the shit out of me instead of you back there. And I gotta admit, it was pretty cathartic to do the same to him.” They both laugh at that, not fully, but enough to ease some of the tension Nathan has on his chest.

“That’s kinda messed up, dude.” Warren lightly knocks into Nathan’s shoulder. His easygoing smile falters a little, fidgeting with his hands in his lap and Nathan thinks maybe things still aren’t comfortable after the awkward moment. “Listen, I was thinking… about what things will be like once we get back–and I know you said we can’t be friends and everything, but maybe… well, if you wanted–or, if you are okay with it–perhaps we can still, like, stay. Knowing. Each other.”

Warren’s not looking at Nathan anymore. And Nathan can’t bring himself to look at Warren, either. Warren sounds so genuine, nervous because of how Nathan might react. Nathan swallows, finding it harder than he thought it would be to have this sort of conversation. Never anticipating things between them to go the way they are going. He shifts slightly away from his spot next to Warren, building himself up to respond.

“I can’t go back with you.”

Warren blinks, “Wait, what?”

“It’s really not a big deal, okay. Everything will be alright.”

“What are you talking about? No it won’t! I can’t leave you here.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”

“But… everything we’ve done, I…” Warren doesn’t get angry, Nathan can’t say he’s surprised. It’s not in his nature, Nathan’s come to realize that. Instead, he holds something so purely represented as grief, it’s hard to look at. And somehow it’s so much worse than if Warren had actually gotten angry. Nathan wishes he did, that he’d lash out at him, swear at him, give Nathan something because it’s easier to deal with. It’s all Nathan's ever known. “I thought we were in this together?”

“Well, you thought wrong!” He snaps.

“I–I don’t understand–”

“Just let it go.” Nathan has to physically turn away from Warren now, not being able to bear the way Warren is looking at him.

“Why?”

“I just can’t, Warren. I–can’t” It’s more than just going back, it’s all of this. Whatever this is. Him and Warren. It’s not fair towards Warren. He’s better off without him. Nathan would just…drag him down. Or worse, a sinister voice that sounds all too familiar snakes into his thoughts. He could be next. The black and white image of Warren lying dead in a landfill flashes through his mind. Nathan physically recoils at that, jumping off the hood of the car.

Warren does the same, “I’m not leaving you.” There’s determination in his voice now.

“God, can’t you take no as a fucking answer?” Nathan turns on Warren. “I said I’d help you and I did! You can go home now, you don’t need me anymore!” He’s getting riled up, Nathan can sense it like a coil tightening further and further all while Waren looks at him with a mixture of pain and confusion. It only adds to Nathan’s frustration. Frustration that he’s building on himself, making it worse. Always making it worse. “And I’m not going to that stupid dance!”

There is genuine hurt reflected in Warren’s expression when Nathan spits the words out. It stings worse than anything he’s ever known, and he regrets them almost instantly.

A normal person would apologize. A shittier person might at least try to reconcile the situation, try to move past it. So he doesn’t know what that makes him when he opts to harden his expression with a dry, “thanks for the shirt,” and start walking away because he doesn’t want to hear what Warren will respond with.

“Where are you going?”

“To be alone.”

“Nathan–”

“I need to be alone.”

Warren doesn’t say anything else. There’s nothing else to say. Nathan just leaves, he doesn’t even bother to cast a glance over his shoulder when he does. He just walks away, no idea where he’s going but knowing there’s truth in his need for solitude.

-

The crashing waves create a steady rhythm for Nathan to breathe alongside. It’s easier than counting to three over and over in his head. And it stops him from thinking of… well, everything.

He stands on the beach, his legs having carried him to the familiar spot in town. If he focuses on the waves, it’s almost like he’d never travelled back in time. There’s something comforting about this place, especially during the off season when it isn’t as populated. He likes the way his shoes sink in the sand and the steadiness of his hands buried in the pockets of his sweater. Warren’s sweater. Warren.

Yeah. That didn’t last long.

He lets out a long sigh, which he wishes he could turn into a scream. But he doesn’t want to scare the lady playing fetch with her dog on the beach. Warren would love this dog. It’s big with splotches of brown and orange and white, whatever that means. With a stubby tail that doesn’t stop wagging the entirety of running up and down the shore, chasing after its stick.

Nathan shouldn’t have left Warren at the gas station. But he knows that if he didn’t he would have suffocated. He needs some time, even if it means being by himself. Even if it means being alone with his thoughts.

Every time he closes his eyes he sees him. Hears him. Feels him. Images that flash through his mind so real he’s almost back there. Hand clamping down on his shoulder as he’s being handed pictures. Pictures of Kate. Of Rachel. Expressions vague and unfocused, faces pressed against a white floor. Pale and doped out of their minds.

Pictures of himself beside Rachel’s body, similarly out of it and unrecognizable save for the dirt he’d woken up with on his cheek and his shoes and pants caked in mud. He hadn’t known where it came from when initially waking up. Not until days later, the pieces clicking together as he’s focusing on the photograph that Jefferson handed to him. Rachel and him. The two of them lying side by side in her grave.

Art, he’d called it. One of his best pieces yet.

That’s when Nathan found out Rachel Amber was dead. Overdosed. His fault.

The thought alone almost makes him vomit. Like he had done when first finding out. And like he did when the posters first started to appear. Her eyes staring into his. They said enough. You did this to me.

So, no. I’m sorry, Warren. Nathan never had any real intention of going back with him.

He cannot, in good conscience, go back there. To the future. If Jefferson’s there, Nathan doesn’t want anything to do with that time. Besides, he shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the people they’ve hurt. Warren would agree.

-

Making a stop by the Two Whales diner, Nathan does a pretty shitty job cleaning himself up in their public washroom. His nose looks…fine, after all the blood’s been washed off of his face. Once he’s finished, he sits at one of the booths. The same one he and Warren sat at back on their first day. Young Joyce is kind enough to offer Nathan a cup of coffee and a burger on the house, seeing as he ‘forgot his money’. He hadn’t planned to mooch for free–declining at first–mostly making the decision to stay at the diner to take shelter from the rain that has started up outside. He wonders if it’s the beginnings of the storm that will carry out the following day. October 10th. The day they’re supposed to go back. But instead, it will just be Warren going, leaving Nathan behind.

Shortly after accepting and devouring his meal–unaware of how hungry he’d become–Nathan catches a bus back to Blackwell. He doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. It’s grown dark out, and Nathan’s clued into the fact that this is the longest he’s been absent of Warren since first coming here. He walks through campus in the steady downfall until he’s back at the dorms. He returns to Lou’s room, using the key still pocketed from that morning to make his way inside.

No one’s there, the two likely having gone to the dance. The one Warren wanted to go to so badly. When Nathan turns on the lamp and turns to look properly in the room his eyes immediately zero in on his varsity jacket hung on the chair at the desk. He can’t help the disappointment that sinks in at the sight. Warren left it behind. Warren finally realized how shitty of a person Nathan is. Confirmed that Nathan is irredeemable. Deserves to be left behind.

He hates me. He hates me. He hates me.

But when he takes a step further into the room he notices the set of clothes laid out on top of the bed. Formal attire, by the looks of it, put out for Nathan beside a cleared space where Warren’s had been. At least, he assumes.

An invitation.

Nathan touches the white collared shirt, lifting it up to check out the twill blazer beneath it. There’s a matching bowtie, too, which is repulsive. But the thought that went into it… Nathan mourns the idea of not having been there when they were picking clothes out. All because he had to ruin things. Push Warren away, again and again.

It’s valid, though. Because the thought of Warren getting too close…Nathan doesn’t want to think about that again. But perhaps…going to the dance��spending one last night with Warren and Lou–couldn’t hurt.

He changes into the shirt–disregarding the bowtie–and keeps his jeans, stepping in front of the mirror when he’s finished buttoning up to the collar. Nathan would be lying to himself if somewhere along the way back to campus he hadn’t already come to the conclusion that he’s not going to stand up Warren at this stupid dance.

Now he just has to see it through.

-

There are a lot of people. The whole thing almost reminds Nathan of some themed Vortex Club party. Almost.

He makes his way through the crowd of people and into the gymnasium, peering around the dimly lit space to find Warren. Nathan spots him a little deeper inside, just off from where students dance. He's decked out in a mint green, frilly collared shirt with the same dark brown corduroy pants and a bowtie similar to the one left at the dorm room–because of course Warren would wear one. Beside him, Lou is wearing a long turquoise satin, puffy-shouldered dress.

Unlike most of the students, they stand idly. Warren’s biting at his lip and turning his head in every direction like he’s looking for something specific. Nathan wonders what it is, concern crawling across his skin.

Lou puts a hand on Warren’s shoulder to force him to look at her. She says something that Nathan can’t make out from the distance and the music that plays. Warren shrugs in return, not really reacting until Lou says something that makes him laugh, coaxing him out of his distracted state. She then takes his hands and starts moving his arms to force him to dance. Warren doesn’t comply straight away, but eventually gives in when Lou lets go to start dancing on her own.

Nathan swings around the camera he still has with him, hoping he’d catch another moment just like this. He finds capturing candid images gives him a sense of fulfillment unlike the pictures he’d taken in the past. It’s still art, just seen through a different lens. One he’d never anticipated himself looking through. He takes the photo, still far enough away where the two shouldn’t notice alongside the sporadic lighting of the party. Yet Warren clocks it immediately, fixing his gaze on Nathan while ceasing all movement.

For a moment, Nathan is struck with panic. Maybe Warren didn’t want Nathan to show up–

“You came!” Warren’s barreling toward Nathan as if he’s going to tackle him to the ground. But he stops just before doing so, almost skidding to a halt. “I was so worried, I didn’t know when you’d come back or if you’d come back! I wanted to wait but Lou said it’d probably be better if I didn’t just sit and wait around and that, you know, you probably needed some space. But I’m just, um, I’m really glad you came.” Warren’s fidgeting now, suddenly looking embarrassed. “Anyways, come this way.”

Warren waves at Nathan to follow him back to where Lou is and she doesn’t hesitate to put her hands on his shoulders, “looking quite dapper there, Nate.” She flashes him a smile.

“You look really good, too,” Nathan gestures at her dress.

Her smile widens, then she gives a little twirl, “why, thank you.” Then she’s giving both Nathan and Warren’s arms a squeeze. “I’m gunna go check out the food they got here, cool?” Nathan watches as she doesn’t wait for an answer and disappears into the crowd.

“What about me, how do I look?” Nathan’s attention snaps back to Warren with surprise, having to stop his lips from quirking into a humoured smile when he notices how serious Warren looks. Or, not serious but rather how he looks at him with wide, anticipating eyes.

Nathan presses his lips together, then narrows his eyes. He takes a step back and begins analyzing Warren in an over the top manner. “Hmmm,” he puts a finger to his chin, attention drawn downwards. He moves to cuff the bottom of Warren’s pants, straightening up once he’s done. “There. Perfect.”

Warren checks out his newly cuffed pants, blinking up at Nathan, “really?”

“What can I say, my fashion sense has finally rubbed off on you. I can’t be more proud.”

Warren laughs at that, “I have you and Lou to thank. You two will have to be my fashion consultants when–uh,” he cuts himself off, the moment growing awkward.

Nathan doesn’t want to let it get weird, so he’s quick to change the subject. “Hey, so what did you and Lou get up to today?”

Warren breathes out in relief, “we used the money that we, uh, procured, and got the rest of the materials we needed!” His eyes have lit up excitedly again, “the reactor’s basically done, thankfully. But I was thinking, tomorrow you, Lou, and I should go to the Two Whales for breakfast! I-if that’s cool. It’d be really nice to all go together. It’s really cool seeing it during this time because–” he laughs awkwardly. “I’m getting worked up about the diner. This probably isn’t the time to be going off about it.”

Nathan shakes his head, “you know, I saw this dog at the beach today that you would’ve loved. Nerded out over it and everything.” Like he does.

“You did!?” Warren presses his hands against his own face, devastated. “Fuck. What kind was it? Was it big? My grandma used to have this giant german shepherd that I used to want to ride like a pony when I was a kid. He was super cute and I begged my parents if we could have him once she died but his name was Max and so I’m kinda glad my cousin ended up getting him instead because when I met Max from school I thought about that and it would’ve been so weird if I had a dog named Max, too, and you know what it’s like when you adopt an animal, you can’t really rename them, I mean you can but it’s kinda too late at that point, especially if they know their name–”

Warren’s eyes grow wide, his pupils along with them and instantly Nathan’s heart stills. What’s wrong what’s wrong what’s wrong is all that repeats in his head as he returns Warren’s shock-struck and particularly serious expression. In the next instant, a smile breaks across Warren’s face and he grabs Nathan’s hand. Whatever Nathan had been expecting, it certainly isn’t that. He’s so caught off guard by the gesture that he lets it happen and watches as Warren begins to bounce excitedly on the spot. “No. Way. This is—I love this song! Come on!” He’s dragging Nathan toward the dance floor before he’s fully tuned into the music that’s playing.

Nathan knows this song. Space Age Love Song, a classic. He didn’t pin Warren as a ‘Flock of Seagulls’ kinda guy. Although, he’s come to realize that he’s never really known Warren at all. Not that Nathan had bothered to try to get to know him in the past, God, the last thing he wanted was to be on some level of speaking terms with someone like Warren. The fact doesn’t surprise him by any means. But… it certainly makes him feel…some sort of way. Huh.

Nathan…liked knowing something about Warren. Something personal. More than the few, very vague things he’s picked up since being around him. Something more. Like he could almost pretend they were just two friends living in the eighties as if it is their reality, hanging out together.

They aren’t. They could never be. But perhaps for a moment he can pretend they are. For a little while. Friends.

He realizes he’s just standing there, completely still while his thoughts drift away. He doesn’t want to think about anything, he wants to be carefree like Warren. So he gives in, just a little, tapping his feet along with the beat and swaying to the rhythm. He probably looks like an idiot, especially next to this guy, but there’s no one here that knows him. Not any other students they know from Blackwell. Not his family. Not–

“You can do better than that, Prescott!” The strobe lights flash a spectrum of colour across Warren’s face, illuminating his awkward dancing and the way he grins–all teeth and squinted eyes–while doing so. Nathan can’t help but mirror the smile, daring to take a step forward as if to risk being pulled into his orbit. He wants to be, though. He wants to be pulled in. For so long he’d been pulling back. From everyone around him. The last time he’d trusted someone… no, he doesn’t want to think about him right now. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment.

It doesn’t matter, anyways. Not when he’s so far from it. Not when Warren’s reaching for his hand again.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Just as Nathan was secretly hoping he’d do, pulling so their arms are above their heads, then Warren’s twisting into a clumsy spin underneath a little arch that their arms have created–forcing Nathan to take part in its execution before the awkward way their limbs have been bent into break them apart. It doesn’t deter Warren in the least, who continues grooving away while Nathan just watches him. All lanky limbs and absolutely no coordination with his own damn feet. It makes Nathan smile, and then he’s laughing, not able to withhold the built up joy from inside his chest. Even when it prompts him to hold his ribs and it hurts to breathe, he doesn’t care. It’s freeing.

Here, on this stupid dance floor with this stupid dork, Nathan could stay here forever. So Nathan rolls his eyes, pretending like he doesn’t want to be coerced into this, when in reality he really, really does, and takes another step closer because he wants to do it again. Because he’s never felt this alive. And they do, for the remainder of the song they just spin and dance and bump into each other. They’re laughing all the while, lost in the flash of lights and in between their fingers momentarily intertwined.

Then there’s something else, like a tightening that replaces the sudden release in his chest. It’s restrictive, making it hard to breathe in a way that doesn’t relate to the pain from his ribs but rather a shortness of breath. And Nathan feels like he’s falling, falling hard towards something. Crashing, really, but not to the floor. His head is light and the room spins around him like the different coloured lights, making him dizzy.

It’s a lot, and the happiness he’s experiencing–if that’s what it can be interpreted as–suddenly feels…wrong. It feels wrong.

It… was a mistake to come here.

Nathan’s retreating a couple of steps before he fully comprehends what it is he is doing. It’s not a dramatic movement by any means, but it still manages to catch Warren’s attention. He instantly stops what he’s doing, his features creasing with worry and Nathan hates it. He hates it. He doesn’t know why, but there’s a growing irritation at seeing the look of concern plastered on Warren’s face and pointed his way. Or maybe it’s from how everything had been fine just a second before. Perfect, even. Only shattering because he’s pulling away from it. Rejecting it.

Why? Why!? Why is he like this?!

Warren takes a step forward, jolting Nathan like an electric shock. He reels back and Warren freezes. “It’s fine, everything’s fine!” Nathan calls out over the music to reassure Warren, or maybe it’s to reassure himself. But Warren doesn’t look convinced. “I’m just, um, kinda thirsty, I’m gunna grab a drink.”

“I’ll grab them for us!” Warren offers enthusiastically, not giving Nathan the chance to respond as he runs off in the direction of the drinks table stationed at the other side of the room. Nathan’s left alone to idly stand under the lights that don’t make him feel so good anymore. The room’s still spinning, but he can’t stay here. He tries, though. He tries to stay, but when a solid minute passes and his skin begins to crawl from restlessness, Nathan hightails it out of there. He blinks and he’s outside, his legs having carried him away while his mind tries to comprehend what it is that’s wrong.

It’s dark. And cold. And Nathan accidentally bumps into a few people that still linger around. He’s still dizzy, even with the absence of the flashing lights from inside. Everyone’s talking, loudly, probably wanting to get away from all the noise inside, but creating too much noise here, too. A lot of them are drunk, leaning against the building or stumbling around, nursing bottles of beer in their arms like it’s inconspicuous. It’s overwhelming and all Nathan wants is to be alone. Again. Like always. So he runs. He runs through the crowd, not really knowing where he’s going but knowing he has to get away.

[xnarlie-starlightx]

Haven’t gotten into this slash ship yet since Eliot and Warren paring/ship itself already seems to be my close fave gay paring but aww, I just love how this looks lovely but remarkable outdone of this fan art drawing as well. Splendid job ☺️👏🏻✨🌈🏳️‍🌈

*ignores the game’s events and makes them happy*

[ishimaru-suprimacy]

This is for the five grahmscott shipers

[meshla-cyarika]

Five Minutes

Pairing: Nathan Prescott x reader

Word count: 431

Tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, sexual themes (but nothing happens)

Summary: you're just trying to study in peace, but you're boyfriend has other ideas...

--------------------------------------------------

"Nathan, not now." You're sat in the middle of your dorm's bed, notes and annotations spread out around you, as you try to study for your upcoming practise exam. It was going pretty well, you managed to get a couple hours of study time in peace, until Nathan had his last class for the day and made a beeline to your room.

"You really gonna give Shakespeare more attention than me?" He has his arms loosely wrapped around your torso from behind, occasionally presses kisses to your cheek and neck to try and tempt you to become putty in his hands.

"When he's worth more than half my grade, yeah." You say back, reading through a page of your annotations.

"Yeah, well, I'm worth more than this whole fucking town so..." Nathan cuts himself off to presses his lips to your neck again.

"Nate." You say sternly, as he tries to spice it up more. To be honest, the words on the page infront of you have been blurred by the desire sitting in your soul. It's very rare that you can gain control over Nathan Prescott.

"Come on!" He throws his head back in annoyance. "You've been at it for over two hours, just have a five minute break!" Nathan pleads as he rests his head agaisnt your shoulder. You try not to relish in how much control you have over this boy, knowing how needy he can get and how you're completely in control of his pleasure.

Trying to be discreet, Nathan's starts slowly inching his hands upwards and under your loose shirt.

"Jesus, you're fucking cold!" Your body shivers at the temperature change.

"I could think of a few ways on how you could change that." Nathan says back, before squeezing your tits over your bra.

"A few ways, or positions?" You quirk a brow, as you look over your shoulder at the blonde.

"Tomato, tomatoe." Nathan shrugs, before practically lunging forward to capture your lips with his own. His kiss is rough and desperate, enough to take your breath away.

You lean away from him, after his tongue swipes across your lips. "Five minutes." You remind him and he has to contain how giddy he is that you've finally given in.

"Five minutes." He assures you again, not wasting a second to reconnect your lips again.

Five minutes, turned into ten. Ten, turned into twenty. And before you know it, you're covered in blossoming purple marks, his shirt thrown over your head and both your bodies clinging onto one another as you drift into a deep slumber.

[p41nkillers]

-accidentally drops grahamarshscott and runs away-

[blacknwhitebutterfly]

grahamscott nation how we doin’ >3<

also everyone close their eyes and stop looking at the quality..

[pristinekanesays]

🦋Life Is Strange: How It's Like Sleeping Next To Them.

🦋 some sappy headcanons 'cause im bored

🐺 GN!Reader, no specific pronouns are mentioned!

🦋 warnings: cutesy romantic stuff eugh, swearing, nathan's dad being a sexist asshole, nightmares.

🎧A/N: I bought Before The Storm but I'm not a big fan of the Remastered versions of Life Is Strange, it just doesn't feel the same? I love the blank faces while someone is literally dying.

🦋Chloe Price:

♡ Usually wakes up on her stomach but falls asleep on her back.

ツIt's literally a nightmare to sleep beside her, she snores, turns and tosses the whole night and talks in her sleep.

♡ Listens to music while she falls asleep, headphones in or playing on her radio alarm clock.

ツSurprisingly, not a blanket stealer, she literally kicks any sort of warmth off of her at night because she moves around so much.

♡ Nightmares, in Before The Storm and Life Is Strange, they're just not as vivid and real as they were before. She wakes up and checks if you're still there, it's comforting for her to see you asleep.

ツIt's rare for her to fall asleep at a healthy time and even if she does, she'll wake up A LOT during the night.

♡ She tends to sleep in a lot and accidentally (sometimes purposely) leaves people/you on read because she rarely hears the notifications.

ツHeavy sleeper.

🍂Kate Marsh:

♡ Falls asleep on her back and wakes up on her back.

ツShe's like a calm mother bird, will play with your hair and you can't tell me she wouldn't fucking softly sing you to sleep. (oh my god)

♡ It helps her sleep when you're there, she likes looking at you and thinking about how grateful she is.

ツWill talk to you for hours when she should really be sleeping, talking about her drawings, classes or the bird she saw like last month.

♡ She tries to make sure to fall asleep at a healthy time, she plans her day out but is sometimes so busy studying that she completely forgets.

ツDepends on the day if she's a blanket stealer that night, if it's warm, she sees no need for any blankets but if it's freezing cold then you're the one suffering.

♡ Light sleeper, like you get up and suddenly she's getting up with you.

📷Max Caulfield:

♡ Falls asleep on her side or her back but always wakes up on her back.

ツIt's not that bad sleeping next to Max, she'll maybe move a little during the night but nothing super major.

♡ HUGE blanket stealer, she knows what she's doing and will just smile and laugh if you confront her.

ツShe'll decide on sleeping then suddenly she needs to look something up or study and forgets that she needs sleep to survive until an hour or so later.

♡ Falls asleep pretty easily but if she can't she'll just wait a few minutes then go on a whole rant about her day and how she was hanging with Chloe the whole time.

ツSort of a light sleeper, if you need to go anywhere you've gotta crawl there or something.

🎭Rachel Amber:

♡ Falls asleep on her side and wakes up on her back.

ツLike Victoria, she has a whole routine before bed. Skincare, posting and scrolling through her socials, listening to music.

♡ Not a blanket stealer thankfully but she can be though depending on the temperature.

ツShe can also spend hours talking to you like Kate does, mainly talking about how drama's going for her or how badly she wants to leave Arcadia Bay.

♡ She mainly sticks to her healthy sleep schedule with no interruptions unless something major happens, like when she found out her dad was cheating on her mom. (pretty understandable.)

ツShe's a heavy sleeper, you gotta shake her a few times like she's a fucking salt shaker.

🎬 Victoria Chase:

♡ Oh jesus, she sleeps in ANY position like she could be hanging off the bed and still fall asleep. Mostly falls asleep on her back though, wakes up basically on the floor.

ツTakes hours doing her skincare and her skin is honestly GLOWING afterwards, face masks, expensive ass skin creams in those teeny tiny bottles, soft music playing in the background.

♡ BLANKET STEALER, BLANKET STEALER! Like she'll pull the blanket off of you while you're still awake and act extremely confused when you look at her with an annoyed look.

ツShe can maybe gossip a little before she falls asleep halfway during the conversation, you know because she starts sleep talking about the most random shit.

♡ Sticks to her sleep schedule, no matter what. Like there could be a whole loud ass fight in the hall but she just rolls her eyes or picks a fight with them before falling asleep.

ツHeavy sleeper, she has to set a shit ton of alarms and only you/Nathan know because she's really embarrassed about it.

🎮Warren Graham:

♡ Dorky dork who falls asleep on his stomach and wakes up on his back or halfway off of the bed.

ツRoutine? Skincare? Nah, he's just a natural cutie.

♡ Moves a lot during the night and accidentally smacked the shit out of you once during the night, he was actually worried but nervously laughing the whole time, sleep talks a lot about the funniest, weirdest shit ever.

ツNah, not a blanket stealer.

♡ Shitty fucking sleep schedule, he's always up studying or playing video games and you'll wake up at 4AM and he's still playing or he's somehow fell asleep with the controller still in his hands.

ツOn a good day, he'll be asleep by 2:30AM but on a bad day he's probably pulling an all nighter.

♡ Heavy sleeper, like scream in his ear and his body will shift a little but he's (still) asleep

🧨Nathan Prescott:

♡ Can't believe I feel bad for this man but he'll pick a position and stick with it the whole night.

ツHis dad's a fucking asshat who told him doing skincare as a man is bad, but he takes care of his skin privately and feels really guilty about it after.

♡ Okay, everyone I write for has to hold you or be held in some way while sleeping but Nathan is on a WHOLE different level. An arm wrapped tightly around you that won't move no matter what, his head tucked into your neck or his leg wrapped around your waist. (no, no..why is he attractive??)

ツNightmares, really terrifying nightmares that are so fucking specific and vivid. He wakes up shaking and goes back to sleep (if he ever does) shaking.

♡ Blanket? Fuck your needs, the blankets his now.

ツHORRIBLE SLEEP SCHEDULE?! Like he's up at 5AM smoking weed and slumped over a chair with his eyes closed.

♡ All nighters sometimes, normally falls asleep at 4AM or later. (teach him how to sleep, wtf.)

ツLight sleeper, he wakes up immediately when he hears you moving and instantly thinks you're gonna leave and become a banana or something (dumbass dude)

[hotchocolatebeforebed]

[lifeisvortex]

When I start to see the Achilles/Patroclus vibe in grahamscott...

[anincurableich]

Just Hanging Out

Pairing: Nathan Prescott/Warren Graham

Chapter word count: 798

Tags: Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Bondage, Kidnapping, Slurs, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bullying, Sexual Harassment, Harassment, Gossip, Mildly Dubious Consent, Obsession, Morally Ambiguous Character

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warren’s head throbbed, pulling him out of darkness. He felt detached, muffled, as though he were trapped underwater for a moment. He groaned, licking his dry lips unconsciously.

A buzzing in his pocket. He fumbled for his phone.

The screen was lit up with countless notifications. Too many messages, too many calls. His eyes couldn't focus. His hand dropped to the floor; phone forgotten as he began to panic.

His memories of the night before weren’t certain.

It wasn’t right. What happened?

He thought about the party. Nathan had wanted him there as his “friend” date, the pounding bass shaking the walls, the red solo cup clutched in his hand. Warren had been laughing, everything warm and fuzzy.

And Nathan had said something…something about getting out of the crowd. Then nothing.

Except now, now his head was pounding. Here, dumped outside his dorm like trash, he felt gross.

The texts flooded in again from friends and strangers, his phone vibrating incessantly against the floor.

How did so many people get his number?

WTF, Warren?

Dude, that video…

You seriously made out with all those people?

His blood ran cold. Video? He fumbled for the phone again as he scrolled through the messages. There it was, a link.

https://warrensvid.com

He hesitated for a second before his thumb tapped.

The video started. Him. Warren. Lips against faces. Boys and girls.

Too many faces, too many people.

His eyes glazed over, his movements jerky and unnatural. He watched in horror, something rising in his throat.

He didn’t remember this. He didn’t remember any of this!

Nathan.

Warren’s insides twisted. The flashes of the party..the drink Nathan handed him, his legs wobbling, Nathan’s arm around his shoulder, whispering something about getting him to the ER.

But Nathan never took him.

Just what the hell happened last night?

He hurriedly rose from the floor and unlocked his dorm, thankful he still had his keys in his pocket.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he stared down at his phone. The screen was filled with more messages, more notifications, all of them talking about the same thing: the video.

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t talk to his father because he would only be disappointed, maybe even disgusted. He'd probably lose all of his friends, they didn't want anyone to give them a hard time because of him. He didn’t even want to show his face in school, the rumors were probably already out of control...

Want to read more? Check it out here. Thanks for reading.

[heuhuewaves]

LUST FOR LIFE (nathan prescott x warren graham.)

hello everyone! I am starting to write my life is strange fic. it is a nathan x warren fic. i am making this post to put it out there and see if anyone would like to be added to the taglist?

the fic will follow the story of nathan finding his love for life again once he gets to know warren. romance and angst ensues.

This fic will be posted between ao3 and here on tumblr! i will link my ao3 below.

my ao3

hope you all end up enjoying the fic!

[imthejudge]

make sense of me

Warren Graham x Nathan Prescott

Chapter Four Word Count: 9,556

Chapter Three

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

Read on Archive

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41111322/chapters/110073688

-

Chapter Four: with you

“Really?!” I mean—okay,” Warren pauses. “Great, that’s good.”

Somehow, it all seems too easy. The fact that Nathan has agreed. Warren can’t get a proper read on the guy, but for the time being, Nathan remains and that’s all Warren can ask for right now.

Warren barely notices how they both stare at each other until he’s suddenly aware of how serious Nathan looks at the statement. Warren realizes something’s off and quickly pinpoints it to that signature Nathan scowl, or lack of. He’s not furrowing his brow like he always seems to be, instead his face is somewhat relaxed. There’s something else, too. A shift, perhaps, in the way he holds himself as he stands beside Warren. Less bristled. His shoulders, which are usually hunched with tension, have eased up. It changes his overall appearance significantly. Or Warren’s just reading into things, as he’s prone to do. And then just as fast the moment’s over, and Nathan’s retreated his gaze forwards, bringing his cigarette back up to his lips.

The slow movement of his hands lull Warren, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. He stifles a yawn, the high from devising a plan in the diner steadily wearing off. He doesn’t know how late it is, not being able to trust the time on his watch since coming to the past. But judging by the deep navy that has taken over the sky and a moon that hangs relatively high above their heads, he knows it’s late.

Focusing on the end of Nathan’s cigarette as it glows orange, Warren’s eyelids begin to grow heavy. The prospect of crawling into his bed makes him almost hysterical, until he realizes he has no bed to go to. No dorm room waiting for him back at school. With a long groan, he agonizingly drags his hands over his face, “Fuckkk.” Nathan peers over at him with a questioning look. “Dude! We can’t go back to school. We don’t have our dorm rooms anymore!”

“Fuck.” Nathan echos, except it’s not drawn out and whiney like Warren’s was. The two share a look of unease which gradually pans to Warren’s car parked just off in a spot behind them. “I call taking the backseat.”

“What!” Warren smothers another groan, “It’s my car!”

“You brought me here, remember?” Nathan smirks.

“You’re literally the worst.” Warren doesn’t wait before swivelling around and sulking defeatedly back to his car. Nathan, to his promise, follows a couple of steps behind. I’m with you. Again Warren is hit by the promise, a promise he knows probably doesn’t mean as much to Nathan as it does to him. Still, if anyone told him Nathan Prescott would be uttering those words to him, he wouldn't have believed them. Or the immense relief that came with them, yet here they are. Apparently on terms of sharing a car for the night.

Warren pulls open the passenger’s door to survey their sleeping quarters for the night, the little interior bulb illuminating their options. Which doesn’t look promising. The stretch of backseat is definitely preferable, leaving the only other makeshift bed a reclined passenger seat.

From beside where Warren stands, Nathan pops his head in the back, glancing around before turning to the side to look at Warren. “Make yourself at home, I guess,” Warren shrugs off his backpack to plop into the driver’s seat, closing the passenger door behind him. He makes sure to press down the lock on the door as he does so. Nathan proceeds to climb inside the back and once he’s somewhat settled, begins to take off his jacket. It’s still wet, Warren realizes, making him wonder if Nathan had been slowly freezing to death since coming to the diner. “Here, you can put it with my bag if you want.”

Nathan hesitates, “I was going to use it to sleep under.”

Warren frowns, “dude, it’s still wet. Just use my hoodie.” He’s already grabbing for it to hand Nathan’s way, holding it out for him. Nathan looks down at it as if the sweater is the most offensive shade of blue he’s ever seen and that offering it to him is somehow the worst thing Warren could ever do. “Oh my God, take it. Sorry it’s not up to your fashion standards.”

“That’s not–” Nathan starts but is cut off when Warren shoves the mass of fabric in his face. It’s oddly satisfying, since it shuts him up and he gives in to taking it. “Thanks.” It comes out muffled from beneath the sweater as Nathan pulls it over his head. His dark blonde hair–all wavy now that it’s dry–is tousled from the action. Pieces fall into his face, somehow still looking like it was done on purpose as it frames his tired eyes.

Then they’re just staring at each other. Again. “Well,” Warren says, though it comes out more like a yelp, suddenly needing to fill the quiet. “Goodnight, then.” He turns out the car light, dousing the interior with darkness and settles into his bed. Or, seat.

Nathan doesn’t respond, but Warren can hear him shuffle into his own seat. They lie as flat as they can in their spots, positioned in a way so Nathan’s feet are just below where Warren’s headrest and makeshift pillow for the night hovers above. It’s uncomfortable, there’s no denying that. Warren can only hope he’s exhausted enough for it not to matter.

Apparently he had been, considering the next time Warren opens his eyes he’s met with the indistinguishable stream of light from the rising sun through the window across from where he’s curled up. He blinks a couple of times, squinting as he adjusts to how bright it is. Swivelling in his stiff position, he cranes his neck to look in the backseat to find Nathan absent.

A sense of panic swells in his chest and rises to his throat, bolting upright as his eyes dart around the small space. But before he can spiral any further, he spots the form of someone leaning against the hood of his car. Warren recognizes the blue of his hoodie and relaxes slightly, body hunching back against the seat. He’s still here.  

It’s after the short burst of panic wears off that Warren notices just how sore he is. No doubt the result from spending the night sleeping in his car. He rubs the back of his neck in an attempt to ease some of the tension there before eventually tracking down his shoes to put on and join Nathan outside.

Exiting the car, Warren’s met with the brisk morning air, taking note of how insulated the car had been overnight. He’s impressed, giving his Chevy a little pat of approval. He then moves to stand beside Nathan, stretching his arms above his head while simultaneously yawning. His long sleeve shirt rises up, exposing his stomach to the harsh autumn breeze that rolls in. It instantly makes him curl back in on himself. He’s tempted to fling himself back into the cozy comfort of his car. But they’ve got work to do. Warren knows these precious few days cannot be wasted, each minute detrimental to their plan. It’s time to put his impeccable time management to use.

Neither of them say anything to each other, Warren having to restrain himself from saying something that can be considered too friendly. We’re not friends, the statement they’d both shared echoes through his mind. He knows that. Warren believes that. So how come he feels slightly hurt by the fact? That’s a new development. He tries his best not to ponder over the thought. After all, it doesn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything. Warren shifts his focus to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach in the distance. It’s soothing, but also serves as a reminder to the icy wind that knocks into him and ruffles his hair about.

Warren eyes the sweater still worn by Nathan from the night before, not having the heart to ask for it back. He, too, looks shaken by the cold October morning air, arms crossed tightly around him and his hands buried within the sleeves of the hoodie. He’s got a scowl on his face, but Warren has become familiar enough to know when they hold no animosity. This is, simply put, Nathan’s resting bitch face. Nathan’s eyes meet Warren’s, eyebrows lowering in obvious confusion and Warren is quick to avert his attention. He’s gotta learn to stop staring at the guy so much. Though, Warren is still having a hard time even fully digesting the fact that he went from avoiding Nathan to this. Whatever this is.

Something heavenly enters his nostril then, carried on by a breeze from the direction of the Two Whales, as if it is just now that Warren remembers parking in the diner’s lot for the night. It renders Warren’s mind blank with all but one thought. Food.  

The great thing about staying overnight in a 24/7 diner parking lot? It raised no suspicion. But even better than that? They didn’t have to go far for breakfast. At least now he has a perfectly reasonable way to break the silence.

“Want some pancakes?”

Five minutes later they’re back in their booth chowing down. It’s mostly uneventful compared to last night, and Warren finds out Nathan had just as uncomfortable of a sleep as he had. The thought of spending a few more nights holed up in Warren’s car is far from appealing, but he supposes it’s better than nothing. So all in all, he’s kind of thankful his car served as the vessel for his time machine mechanism that never should have been, as opposed to something far less practical.

With their hunger sated and their energy restored from a somewhat restful sleep combined with a couple cups of Two Whales’ famous coffee, they finally hop back into the car to head to the labs at Blackwell Academy. It’s a Saturday–which explains the barren state of the Two Whales parking lot that early in the morning–and Warren’s confident that the two of them won’t seem too suspicious in their endeavour to hijack one of the school labs for the next phase of their plan.

The campus is still populated by students enjoying the beginning of fall, but Warren’s sure the school building itself will be the opposite–if the weekends he’s spent working away on his own at the labs in the future are anything to go by. So the two proceed, making sure to collect the reactor which had been moved to Warren’s trunk the night prior.

“I got it,” Nathan holds out his hands to take it from Warren, who hesitates at the offer after digging it out from the truck, thinking back to the last time Nathan had touched it. In his moment of indecision, Warren half expects Nathan to roll his eyes or perhaps even drop the offer completely, shoving his hands back into his pockets forcefully with a fresh scowl on his face. But he does neither. Instead, he flinches. He flinches when Warren pauses in handing it over. It all happens so quickly, and though Warren is more than justified in his hesitation, he feels shame. Nathan’s hands falter, but he still holds them up, “I won’t do anything to it…I swear.”

Taken aback, Warren proceeds to hand the reactor to Nathan wordlessly. Then Warren watches as he turns away and walks off. For a split second Warren worries he made the wrong decision in trusting it to him, but then Nathan’s back from a short trip to the passenger’s side of the car with his varsity jacket–now finally dry–draped over the top of Warren’s project. “For discretion,” Nathan explains.

“Smart,” Warren blinks, finding nothing more adequate to add. He’s surprised Nathan thought of the idea. Or moreso, he’s surprised Nathan is thoughtful enough to come up with the idea. The less attention they brought upon themselves, the better. That’s for sure.

So with things in motion, Warren makes sure to grab his backpack before they leave. The two manage to make their way through campus and into the main hall of the school without so much as a glance in their direction. They share a look of relief, though Warren knows they aren’t in the clear just yet. He goes ahead of Nathan to scope out the hallway leading to the science labs, rounding the corner with slight trepidation at the prospect of finding a 1980’s version of Ms. Grant ready to scold him for daring to trespass. But there’s no one, so Warren sends a thumbs up Nathan’s way.

Warren’s newfound confidence is quickly extinguished after he bounds up to the science room and tries the door handle with no luck. He spins to face Nathan frantically, “shit, it’s locked! What do we do now!?” From above the mound of red fabric draped over the reactor in his hands, Nathan frowns in thought, opening his mouth to answer. The sharp click of the door swinging open behind Warren stops whatever it is that Nathan was going to say and Warren doesn’t have time to react when he turns around and immediately knocks into whoever it is that’s exiting the room.

Books clatter to the floor, Warren’s gaze falling with them. “Sorry! OhmyGod, sorry!” he sputters out, dropping to his knees to begin picking them back up. A few papers slipped from within one of the notebooks to scatter around them, making Warren feel even worse until he’s reaching for one of the sheets and freezes, reading a name neatly printed in its top right corner. His eyes dart up to see a young girl who’s crouched down across from Warren, mirroring his action of collecting books and papers where they’ve fallen. She wears a blue cardigan and has shoulder length brown hair, dark like her eyes underneath thick lashes. She’s pretty, really pretty.

“Mom!?” Warren slaps a hand over his mouth. But it’s too late. The girl–his mom –blinks up at him, eyebrows raising to sit high on her forehead in surprise. “I mean, uh…” Warren racked his brain for some sort of way to backtrack from the horrifying thing he’d just blurted out, coming up with absolutely nothing to rectify the result of his very clear, very loud, and very genuine shock at seeing what he believes to be the 17-year-old version of his own mother before him. Nope. No coming back from that one.

“How embarrassing,” Warren tries again, straightening up. She follows with some delay. “You just really look like my mom. N-not that you look old! I meant, like, when my mom was in high school–super similar. I’m, uh, actually your cousin!” Oh God, please make it stop. “I moved here recently. And am going to your school now. First day.” Nathan shifts at his side, and Warren latches onto the movement. “A-and, this is my friend! He moved here, too. Both our families! Just couldn’t be apart,” he lets out a shaky laugh. “We came up from, uh…”

Nathan doesn’t even skip a beat, confidently stating in a voice that is way too calm, “Fort Lauderdale.”

Warren’s left giving an unacknowledged incredulous look Nathan’s way before pulling his attention back to his mom, “Yes. Fort Lauderdale.” Her eyebrows have lowered, though only slightly as she still hasn’t offered a word in return. In his panicked state, and with what is quickly becoming some sort of stress induced habit, Warren goes for introducing the two, “Nathan, this is Louisa, my m–cousin. Louisa, this is Nathan.”

“Lou,” she corrects, “never Louisa.”

A long, awkward pause grows between the three, filled only by the consistent eye contact amongst them all. He knew that. He knows everyone calls her Lou, not Louisa. He also knows–shit. “Okay that’s a lie I’m actually your son.” Warren blurts out, making it sound like one big word.

Lou presses her lips together, slowly blinking, “you just figured out that I don’t have any cousins, didn’t you–”

“–yes.”

Another beat passes, then Nathan buries his head into the varsity-jacket-covered reactor in his hands, “Jesus fucking Christ, Graham.”

Lou seems to react at that, frowning at Nathan’s comment and averts her gaze from him to begin studying Warren with a keen eye. She takes a step towards him, one arm closely clutching the recently collected books of hers while the other tentatively lifts with an outstretched finger to prod at Warren’s cheek. “Fascinating…”

“Yup,” Warren chuckles, though it sounds almost as if he’s choking from the strain. “We accidentally got launched back in time after getting struck by lightning and are trying desperately to go to the future—our present, but your future, I suppose.” He pauses, taking a second to ponder over his lack of self preservation. “I gotta say, I honestly have no idea why I’m telling you all this but at the same time if there’s anyone that could help us, it’s probably going to be the best physicist that I know. Which happens to be, uh… you.”

She’s stunned. Or at least, Warren assumes since she’s now petrified in place. He brings up a hand to rub at the back of his neck nervously, sharing a worried glance with Nathan. Then someone–a teacher perhaps–can be heard rounding the corner behind them. Their worried exchange quickly shifts to alarm and Lou jumps into action by ushering the two of them into the science lab with a hurried ‘get in, quick!’

Stumbling inside, Lou swiftly closes the door behind them. They all wait for the footsteps to pass, Warren holding his breath until the sound fades. “Thanks,” he breathes out. Lou lets go of the doorknob she’d been grasping onto tightly, turning to press her back against the door.

“I still don’t understand… there’s no way–”

“I know,” Warren holds up a hand, “trust me, I know. I’m still struggling to wrap my own brain around it”

Lou shakes her head a little, “but how?”

Warren looks over at Nathan, and the two share a look of understanding before they move to one of the lab benches in unison. Warren clears off enough space for Nathan to place the covered reactor down. Lou’s inched closer, peering over their shoulders to see what it is they’re doing. Her expression of disbelief is now mixed with curiosity as Warren gestures over to it. “Because of this.” As if on cue, Nathan reaches to pull away his jacket and uncover the reactor which stands tall–if not a little charred–beneath. “I’ve somehow managed to make a real, working time machine.”

Lou glances at the reactor, then to Warren, then back to the reactor, then to Nathan where she lingers for a second, then landing on the reactor once more. “Right…” she finally comes up with.

Warren anticipates that she might try to make a run for it. To sprint away from them screaming bloody murder and sic the principal or security on them, saying that two crazy dudes who claim to not only be from the future, but that one of them is her future son, are trying to coerce her into fixing their “time machine”, thus getting them arrested–his dreams of getting into Stanford perishing once again–and stranded in the past. Now present? Warren’s brain hurts.

But instead of all that, Lou takes a step towards the reactor, throwing a cautious look Warren’s way. “May I…?” The tension that consumes Warren’s body bleeds out of his muscles, letting out a shaky breath of relief along with it.

“Yeah, please,” he waves his hand to gesture her towards it. “I assume since it was smoking up a storm when first getting here that it’s in no condition to take us home. Plus, I’m pretty sure some of the internal stuff has completely melted, judging by the, uh, burnt electrical smell.”

Lou hums as Warren explains, thoroughly examining the outside of the machine. Warren and Nathan move closer, too, until they’re all huddled around it. She then picks up a pencil that’s lying on the table to prod at it, gradually using it to move the reactor around until it’s turned 180 degrees. Both Nathan and Warren watch her intently and when she pops open the small door on the top, they all peer inside.

Warren’s heart sinks when what he sees left of the inside proves him right. There’s a collection of different coloured wires that have melded into one giant mass from fusing together. That’s going to be a pain in the ass.

Along with the complete destruction of the wiring, the interior walls of the reactor look in poor condition with its equally singed appearance. Admittedly, all the components that comprised of the device were in dire need of replacement. To put it simply, they basically needed to remake the time machine from scratch. Now that’s realllly going to be a pain in the ass.

Warren slumps against the countertop. He’s unmotivated, to say the least. The prospect of building a whole new reactor is not something he feels confident about. It had taken him a solid week and a half to put the thing together in Ms. Grant’s class, not taking into account all the theorizing that went into it prior to the physical construction of the thing. But when he turns his defeated gaze to Lou, he sees her tapping the pencil in her hand against her chin thoughtfully.

“Do you have your notes?” She points the question at Warren.

He blinks, then stumbles to unloop his bag from his shoulders and extract his notebook from within. “Y-yeah, of course! Everything I wrote on it is in here,” he holds it out for her and she gingerly takes it from his extended hand.

She flips through it, face set in determination as she does so, “let’s get to it, then.”

It takes some time to get the ball rolling, Lou mostly preoccupied with going through Warren’s notebook for the first while. In that time Warren and Nathan stand by the reactor while Lou idly paces the length of the lab absorbing Warren’s notes. Seeing her do so makes him slightly self conscious about the state of his writing and erratic note taking and yet above all else the image itself is bizarre beyond belief. It is at this point that it really hits him that the person in front of him is his mom. That’s his mom.  

“Heyyy, earth to Graham. You good?” Nathan’s waving a hand in front of Warren’s face, his usual crudeness seeping into his words, though his voice is lowered considerably so it’s just between the two of them.

“Oh–yeah…I’m good. This is just… really fucking weird…” he trails off. Now he knows what Nathan must’ve felt like seeing his dad the day before. Or maybe he doesn’t. Considering his mom isn’t a piece of shit like Nathan’s dad is. He flinches at that thought, yeesh, that’s a little harsh. But it’s still a jarring experience, to say the least.

“Yeah. Really fucking weird,” Nathan echoes as the two continue watching Lou walk back and forth before them. Warren can sense Nathan shift beside him after another minute or so passes. “It’s really weird being in the 80s. And by really weird, I mean extremely fucked up. But it’s also kinda…”

Warren peers over at him. “...Cool?” he offers. Because if truth be told, aside from the initial shock and being overwhelmed by their situation, walking around in an 80s version of Arcadia Bay was kind’ve really… tubular.

Nathan lets out a huff, and Warren swears he can almost make out the ghost of a smirk on his lips. One that’s quickly hidden as he wipes a hand over his mouth. “Cool. Yeah, it’s kinda cool to see.”

That’s something Warren definitely didn’t expect to hear from Nathan.

“Alright.” Both boys’ attention return to Lou, who’s ceased her pacing and stands facing them now. “I think we can salvage this.”

Warren and Lou immediately begin working by deconstructing the reactor, but not before equipping themselves with the proper tools and protection. All the while they exchange a bunch of scientific jargon, throwing ideas back and forth. He’s sure it goes over Nathan’s head, who lingers at a distance. He continues to give them space for the entirety of the time they spend working on the reactor. The endless conversation Warren has with his mom gradually moves into more casual territory–nothing like talking cult classic 80s films during the 80s–mixed with discussing the project at hand. It’s nice, and Warren finds himself relaxing enough to actually have fun, feeling totally in his element.

Hours pass, unbeknownst to Warren. And at one point Nathan flickers the lightswitch of the overhanging bulb he and Lou work underneath to get their attention. “I’m hungry.” Warren blinks up at Nathan’s bored expression, having declared the statement in a monotone fashion. Warren suddenly tunes into his own hunger, which he hadn’t even noticed. He casts a glance at the analog clock at the front of the class, reading an exact quarter past 8 PM.

“Holy crap!” Warren exclaims, realizing that what felt like an hour or so of work had actually translated into their entire morning, afternoon, and is now ticking past the borderline of their evening spent working on the reactor.

“Ya, I literally took a nap while you guys were tinkering away. My phone died like 2 hours in.” Nathan’s moved to sit atop one of the lab benches now, and Warren tries not to be stressed out over how unsanitary that probably is.

He looks at his side to where Lou stands, projecting a confused look at Nathan. “I’m actually pretty hungry, too,” he admits. She returns her attention to Warren, face morphing to one tinged with humour. “What?”

“I was going to say that I’m not your mom and to get your own food, but I forgot you guys are stranded here. And that I am, in fact, your mom. Apparently.” She frowns at that. Probably weirded out by voicing the strange yet true statement aloud. Then she’s turning away to dig into her bag on the lab chair closest to her, pulling out a set of car keys. “You guys like Thai food? There’s a pretty good place down the street from school.” She waggles her keys in front of Warren’s face, “if your friend doesn’t mind taking my car to pick it up?”

“My…?” Warren doesn’t automatically clock that she’s talking about Nathan. “Oh, right–yeah. My friend. Nathan.”

Lou hesitates, “he does know how to drive, right?”

Suddenly appearing beside them, and giving them a scowl each, Nathan snatches the keys from Lou’s still outstretched hand. “Of course I know how to drive. So what do you nerds want?”

Departing a minute later with a scribbled out list of their orders and some money courtesy of Lou, Nathan leaves the two of them to grab the food. It should only take him around half an hour, yet Warren is overcome with an impatience at his return. And it’s not from the hunger that he’s become acutely aware of since. It’s the fact that him and Lou are now alone, which is stupid considering it has pretty much only been the two of them even while Nathan was still here. But it was easier when he hadn’t been so hyper-aware of that fact.

“Thanks for covering dinner, by the way. And offering your car. That’s super nice of you, since we just kinda barged in and demanded your help.” He takes a seat on a stool beside Lou, who’s jotting down a new list of materials they’ll need for reconstruction of the reactor.

“No problem,” she sends him a smile and Warren latches onto how eerily familiar it looks, trying his best not to show how weirded out he feels from it. “So your friend, not much of a science buff I take it?”

“Nathan? Nahh,” Warren can’t think of a single instance where he’s ever even seen Nathan in the science labs before. Not that they were in the same classes, but Warren spent enough time at the labs to know.

“More of a jock, then.”

Warren chuckles, “the jacket give it away?” The same jacket that now sits on one of the lab benches after Nathan had balled it into a makeshift pillow at some point while they had been busy. Warren shrugs, “not too big into sports either, I’d say.” From the couple of games Warren had been dragged to by his small friend group, Nathan had either not been there, or benched for the entirety of the game. Something told him Nathan has no interest in being an active member of the football team. “He’s actually interested in photography. This is probably the longest I’ve seen him without a camera.” It was true. Though Warren rarely paid Nathan any attention before time travelling together, he knew of his photography. Max had spoken about his style. Unnerving, yet intense and quite captivating were the terms she’d used to describe it.

“Ah, the suffering artist type,” Lou nods her head in exaggerated understanding. “What’s his style like?”

“Monochrome, mostly. Like, black and white.” Max had told him that, too. How, “his photos are deeply contrasted in more than just harsh lighting.” He thinks for a moment, “I don’t know how much studio photography he does, but he always has his camera slung across him.” Just like Max. He wonders if under different circumstances the two might have been friends. If there was an alternate reality out there where they shared a friend group.

Warren thinks back to the early days of the school year, his very first year at Blackwell. He’d seen Nathan pretty regularly at the start of September, passing him in the halls before and between classes, seeing him leisurely around the dorms, always wielding his film camera whether with his jock friends or strutting alongside Victoria Chase. Come to think of it, pretty much after a week into the first month Warren had stopped seeing him altogether. All but a ghost to the campus and dormitories. Even with his room adjacent from Warren’s.

The next time he’d seen Nathan was in the hallway the day of the storm. He hadn’t even had his camera with him then.

“Your watch is broken.”

“Huh?” Warren blinks, noticing how Lou examines his wrist. “Right, yeah. I think it got fucked after being launched here.”

Lou hums in contemplation, “I don’t think I can fix it, I’ve never seen one like that before.”

Warren screws his face into a frown, looking down at his watch. He didn’t have the chance to ponder over it, but now that he does, he’s pretty bummed. It was one of those calculator ones, super cool and the same one he’d been eyeing at the most recent tech expo he’d gone to. A birthday gift he’s especially fond of and given to him by, well. His mom. He hopes once he gets back there will be a way to fix it.

“I’m sure I have a spare one back at my dorm that I can lend you, if you’d like? Not as suave as this one but I’m sure it’ll do.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Warren’s a little taken aback, hoping his thanks doesn’t lack the overwhelming gratitude that he holds over her offer. He knew his mom was one of the kindest people in the world, but damn. Warren doesn’t know if he’d be this chill if the roles were reversed.

Soon after their talk, the jiggling of the door handle signals Nathan’s return. As well as: food. Which, at this point, Warren has become quite ravenous for. They chow down almost in silence from how hungry they are and once they’ve finished it’s safe to say Warren is full and ready to pass out. Though, with his increasing exhaustion comes the familiar dread of their poor sleeping predicament.

As if on the same wavelength, Nathan lets out a groan from beside him. “I do not want to spend another night in your beat-down car.”

“Hey,” Warren shoots a frown Nathan’s way. “She’s treated us well, we’d have no other option if it wasn’t for her.” The pain in his back protests at his defence, making him sigh. “But yeah… it’s definitely not ideal.”

“You two have been sleeping in a car?” Lou's concern is both evident in her expression and voice when she points the question at the two of them.

Warren does a half shrug, a bit of shame in the movement as if he were admitting it to a worrying parent. Which, she kind’ve is. “Only one night so far…”

“Well,” Lou straightens up from where she’d been leaning on the lab counter, her composure shifting as she threads her arms back into her cardigan that she’d shed some time while working on the reactor. “No way am I letting you guys do that for another night. You’ll stay in my room.” She’s adopted a stern tone that is all too reminiscent of her future self. A tone he knows is useless to argue against.

Warren shares a look with Nathan, seeing the same surprise reflected there. “I–are you sure?” He’s looking back at Lou, who has conjured up a white sheet of sorts to cover the time machine, clear that she’s more than made up her mind.

“I’m certain. I mostly stay at Harry’s, anyway, so it’s usually empty.”

For a second Warren is stunned at the mention of his dad’s name. He blinks, trying to pretend he’s not as affected as he actually is. His dad’s here, too. A younger version of his dad. Just living his teenage life alongside his mom. Weird.

“You just gunna stare at her like an idiot or do you think you could accept her offer so we don’t have to spend another night in that heap of junk you call a car?” Nathan bumps Warren’s shoulder, drawing his attention back to the present. Well, the current present.

“Uh, y-yeah, I mean, yes! That would actually be really great.”

“Let’s go then,” Lou’s holding out the covered-up reactor, but as Warren raises his arms to accept it, Nathan swoops in to scoop it from her hands.

“I’ll take this, you grab my jacket,” He nods in the direction of where it’s still balled up on the lab bench. “You’ll probably need it.”

Warren’s dumbstruck, arms still raised in front of him like a fool at the statement like he’s short-circuited again. “R-right.” He quickly drops his arms. “Thanks.” He’s hurrying to grab his stuff and Nathan’s jacket, putting it on and trying his best not to read into the gesture. It’s just Nathan’s jacket that Nathan never takes off. He totally only offered it because he’s still wearing Warren’s sweater that he’s been acutely aware of the entire day.

It’s weighty, and a surprisingly nice material. It’s cool. As in, it looks cool. At least, it’s always looked cool on Nathan. Warren vaguely wonders if he looks half as cool in it himself. Probably not.

“You coming, nerd?”

“Yup!” Warren yelps out, almost jumping out of his skin. He grabs his backpack and heads towards the silhouette of Nathan in the doorframe after he’s turned off the light. Thankful for how it cloaks him in darkness to hide his embarrassment.

Fifteen minutes later, the three ascend the stairs to the dorms. The hazy exhaustion that had hit Warren after dinner and the hours of their hard work is promptly replaced by the chill of night and the exciting prospect of sneaking into the girls' dormitories.

Ew, he thinks to himself. That just makes him seem weird. But there’s something exhilarating about it. Like some sort of high school cliche seen in those coming-of-age movies. The ones where there is always a trio getting up to no good. And Warren has to admit to himself, he’s actually having fun in the process alongside Nathan and Lou. Warren had never really thought himself the type to partake in such things, even if he’d indulged in a similar daydream once or twice. Though, certainly never picturing it with the company he currently has.

As a contrast, he’s almost positive Nathan’s done this sort of thing before. Sneaking into the girls' dorms. Warren’s thrill lessens somewhat at the thought of it. The image of Nathan climbing through one of the windows, stumbling inside to meet up with a girl late into the night. Their hands all over each other, his jacket draped across her shoulders…

The same Jacket that’s now slung on Warren’s very own frame. He feels a blush creep up into his cheeks at the unintentional parallel of that thought. There’s an uneasiness that settles in the pit of his stomach now, replacing the excitement momentarily. The grin he’d had on his face since arriving outside of Lou’s room falters, too. He doesn’t want to picture any more of this scenario he’s created in his head.

Trying to think of something else, anything else, Warren focuses his attention on Lou as she turns the key to her room. She swings open the door, waving them inside. She follows, careful when closing it behind them and automatically moves to flick on the lamp on her dresser.

The room is immediately illuminated in a soft glow. Warren takes note of the abundance of books. And he’s not using the term lightly. There are, like, a lot of books. Equal in both novels and textbooks. They scatter across almost every surface, some even being piled on the floor. Her bed isn’t made and for a brief moment, Warren is overcome with the unjust treatment he receives at his own room being a mess at their house. At least now he knows where he gets it from.

“Make yourselves at home,” Lou holds out a hand to gesture to the space. “Oh! Let me grab you that watch.” She begins rummaging around in her desk and Warren takes the opportunity to busy himself with finding a free corner of the room to put his backpack down in. “This should treat you well enough,” Lou holds out a worn, brown leather watch for him.

Warren gingerly takes it from her, fastening it around his wrist. “This is perfect! It’ll be pretty crucial for going back.” While working on the reactor together he’d informed Lou of their whole plan. The scheduled lighting strike time and location being their ticket to going home. He’d mostly wanted her insight, but also hoped she might help them in their endeavour, which she’d offered almost instantaneously.

“I thought so, too,” she smiles. “I guess I’ll leave you guys to settle in, I should really be heading out.”

“Whoa, wait, alone!?” Warren’s shaking his head, “no way. We’ll walk you, the 80s are like, super notorious for serial killers!”

Lou laughs at that, “I’m pretty sure if I’d got murdered you’d already know about it. But… I would feel a lot better being accompanied to my car, regardless.”

So they do just that. And Warren takes a certain comfort in him and Nathan walking Lou to her car on the other side of campus. Once they’ve made it, she leaves Warren with the key to the dorm and a promise to be back the following morning before they say their goodbyes for the night.

They watch her drive off and Warren waits until the taillights of her car disappear before spinning around to face Nathan. He stands a few feet off, shuffling on his feet awkwardly with his hands buried deep within the pockets of Warren’s sweater in a way that Warren himself mirrors in Nathan’s jacket.

Warren lets out a breath full of a tension he hadn’t realized he’s holding onto. Tension that now seeps through to his fingertips as he shakes out his hands in front of him.

The nerves jolting through his body turns into a building excitement as the crazy day they’d had finally sinks in. He just met his mom. Met, and hung out with. Alongside Nathan Prescott.

If Max could see him now.

It’s exhilarating, the thought of having worked with his mom at a time where she was the same age as him. Warren had fun. And he can’t wait to do it all again tomorrow.

He takes in a deep breath now through his nostrils. There is something in the air that night, other than its chilling crispness, that has Warren–for lack of a better term–giddy.

“So…” Warren breathes out.

“So.” Nathan echos.

Flashing a smile Nathan’s way, Warren is surprised to find it’s not met with its usual hostility. Nathan still rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twist up. It’s enough to make Warren gawk at the gesture, which he’s sure to wipe off his face with a sleeve-covered hand in haste.

Then he feels the urge to start running off at the mouth, like Warren’s prone to doing. It bubbles up to his throat, threatening to spill forth. But he holds his tongue. We’re not friends.

The words Nathan threw at him only the previous night pierce his thoughts. Full of so much spite and resentment that they sting even now at their recollection. Better to leave things unsaid, Warren supposes. And yet he can’t help but be a little bummed. The whole time he’d been interacting with his mom he’d subconsciously been noting all the things he’d wanted to recite and discuss with Nathan afterwards. Unknowingly, Warren was looking forward to telling Nathan all his thoughts. Imagining, too, how they’d get carried away over it all.

The brief moment the two of them shared in the Two Whales diner freaking out over witnessing a young Joyce for the first time flashes in his mind. Eyes blown wide in disbelief, yet also the moment they began to truly believe. Snuffed out just as fast as it happened. We’re not friends. So don’t act like it. Warren might’ve scoffed at the idea once. Hell, he’s pretty sure he has.

And now? So don’t act like it. He never thought it’d be so difficult.

So it’s with a stride-stopping, breath-hitching bewilderment that overtakes Warren when Nathan is the one who decides to initiate the conversation further. “That went well.” Warren’s neck snaps up, not being able to tell if Nathan’s being sarcastic. Narrowing his eyes, Warren analyzes Nathan’s expression to determine that he must be egging him on. To coax him into having a full-blown Warren-ramble in an attempt to no doubt ridicule him–or worse–bring about an incentive to have another argument because the two of them are, and will remain, the furthest thing from friends and anything that might ever lead to.

And yet, instead of all that, Warren is faced with a blank stare that he’s unable to read. And then Nathan shrugs in a way that Warren can only describe as… casual. Nathan Prescott. Acting casual. Unheard of. “Seriously, your mom’s actually pretty cool.”

Warren’s left blinking his eyes owlishly, waiting for his brain to catch up and respond in a cohesive and timely manner. “...I…uh–yeah, uh–yes.”

Nailed it.

“And a genius, too,” Nathan continues. “I think she’ll actually be able to help you get back.”

“Right!?” Warren’s excitement creeps back up and he can’t help expressing his agreement with increasing enthusiasm. “She is cool, and super smart. I have no doubt she can help us! Plus, we actually get to sleep in a real bed thanks to her!”

“Not to mention she’s smokin’ hot,” Nathan chimes in matter of factly. Warren nearly chokes at the comment. No–he actually does choke, trying–and failing–to recover when he sends Nathan what could only be described as a look of utter horror. Nathan side-eyes him, a sly grin creeping across his face. “I’m joking. Totally worth it for that reaction though.”

They begin making their way back towards the dorm, though they do so leisurely at a pace that drags out as their conversation flows. It’s mostly Warren who rambles away at Nathan. And he wonders if he’s even really listening to him. But each time he looks over, he finds his full attention directed at Warren. Their eyes that meet momentarily before Warren breaks away as he continues talking, telling himself he’s only doing so to make sure Nathan’s still present in the conversation. But in truth, Warren finds the connection too intimidating. Or, perhaps that’s not the right term to describe what it is that he’s feeling. Perhaps it’s all a bit too intimate for him.

How they stare hollowed and half-lidded, unwavering as they span across Warren’s face in a way that makes Warren feel more than just heard, but seen, too. The striking blue he is so used to perceiving looks darker in this lighting. The overhanging beams of street lights the only source of illumination for their walk back. It casts sharp shadows across Nathan’s face, carving out his cheekbones in a way he hasn’t witnessed them before. His eyes almost look like a different colour altogether, pupils so dilated that they absorb almost all the surrounding blue.

And that’s when Warren realizes just how normal Nathan looks. There’s no scrutiny twisting his face, no consistently furrowed brow that hardens his gaze and makes him look like… well, like Nathan. No, this is a different Nathan. And maybe that’s the reason Warren breaks the contact so quickly each time.

All the while he still focuses on the conversation at hand. Or, Warren supposes it’s more akin to a lecture at this point seeing as he doesn't give pause for Nathan to respond to any of what he is saying.

“–and you know Trevor, right? That’s who I thought it was, but turns out nope! That was before I realized what was going on. Lou mentioned the dude’s name is actually Argyle. Surprisingly wise guy–but now I'm convinced he must be related to Trevor somehow.” Warren gasps for air, not having realized how out of breath he is from simultaneously walking and talking. Jeez, am I out of shape or do I need to learn to shut the fuck up?

“Anyways,” Warren continues. “I guess I’ll have to ask him when we get back.”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

After a short pause, Warren presses his lips together, suddenly acutely self aware. “Sorry–I’m, ah, rambling. About stupid shit.” It takes him a few steps to realize Nathan’s not beside him anymore.

“Why do you always do that.” Nathan’s stopped and Warren halts, too, turning to look at him with evident confusion. “Apologize. Demean yourself,” Nathan clarifies.

Warren blinks,” I–I don’t know. I guess I just have a tendency to run off at the mouth, and I know it can… I guess, be annoying.”

“It is annoying,” Nathan confirms flatly. “But you don’t have to say you’re sorry all the time. And the stuff you’re saying isn’t stupid. It’s important. It’s important to you.”

Nathan picks up his pace again, leaving Warren behind as if he hadn’t just dropped some insane bomb of sincere advice that Warren immediately takes to heart. “Oh.” he’s jogging to catch up after his moment of internalization, so caught up in the sentiment that he only manages a pathetic sounding, “right. Thanks.”

A silence stretches out between them, and though it’s no longer really as awkward as it once used to be, Warren still finds he wants to fill it. He glances over at Nathan, who looks ahead with an unreadable expression that Warren interprets most closely to that of boredom, if a bit tired. His gaze travels down to examine the sweater he still wears, retreating to look at his own arms still buried within the sleeves of Nathan’s varsity jacket and wondering if it’s become a permanent trade.

“Sooooo,” Warren draws out. “You play football.” It isn’t really a question, he’s well aware of Nathan and the football jocks, but it’s one way to fill the silence. And to his surprise, Nathan reacts in a way he least expects. He laughs. It’s breathy, and probably the result of his own surprise at Warren’s sudden choice of topic, but it’s a laugh nonetheless, and somehow it gives Warren the sensation of butterflies in his chest in a way he’d never experienced before.

“I’m on the team, sure.”

“I’ve never actually seen you do it. I can’t really picture you doing it, either. Playing on the team and stuff. No offence.” After a slight pause, Warren adds, “Go Bigfoots, I guess.”

A beat passes, then they both start laughing. It’s to the point where Warren has to wipe tears from his eyes. It wasn’t funny, it was just stupid. But the high from that night could’ve made anything funny.

“Yeah, it’s not really for me. It’s mostly a family thing, I suppose. You just kinda do what they expect you to do, I never really gave it much thought.”

“That…sucks,” Warren blurts out. Wow. eloquently put, Warren.

Nathan shrugs, “It’s kind of a drag. When your dad forces you into all the extracurricular shit he can find, it kinda takes all the fun out of it. Then it just becomes upholding the family name.” He momentarily looks up, tilting his head thoughtfully, “though, I didn’t mind theatre.”

Warren balks at that, “you did theatre!?”

“Oh yeah,” Nathan says dryly. “You’re looking at an esteemed cast member of Blackwell’s 2010 rendition of The Tempest.”

“No fucking way. Who’d you play?”

“Caliban.”

Warren gives Nathan a once over, nodding slightly, “I can see that.”

“Fuck you.” Nathan brings up a hand to push Warren’s shoulder, though it lacks any real force. “But even that lost its appeal when my dad got involved. The man knows how to ruin pretty much anything related to this goddamn school. So, no, dad, football isn’t my passion,” He shoots a smirk Warren's way, which is quick to slip from his face. “I’d rather be doing literally anything else.”

“Like your photography?”

Nathan noticeably stiffens at that. It takes him a while to respond, as if he’d been transported away at its mention. “I haven’t shot my own stuff in what feels like forever…”

Nathan shoves his hands in his pockets, not elaborating any further. Warren doesn’t really understand, since the only thing he actually knew about Nathan prior to everything is that he enjoys photography. But he doesn’t push, opting to shrug it off.

The dormitories come into view as they round the pathway they’d taken through the main campus, attempting to be as discreet as possible when finding their way back to Lou’s vacant room. It’s safe to say that once they finally make it inside and close the door Warren’s exhaustion has reached its peak. The adrenaline and excitement sufficiently worn off now that their night is coming to a close.

Warren changes into a pair of baggy pyjama pants and an oversized worn Grease t-shirt that Lou had left behind for him, alongside another set for Nathan, who Warren waits for after having left to change in the washroom. His feet practically drag on the floor at this point in anticipation of sleep. But he only makes it a couple of steps across the small space before he stops dead in his tracks.

Warren reels on Nathan just as he reenters the room, “we have a problem.”

“Yeah we do, ” Nathan scoffs, attention lowering to Warren’s shirt. “Why am I stuck with Star Trek when you got Grease?”

“What–? No, not that. And yours is Star Wars, not Star Trek.”

“Whatever, nerd.”

“I’m talking about the fact that there’s only one bed?” Warren steps aside to gesture at the single twin. The same twin bed that he’s all too familiar with having in his own dorm room. A small, little detail he’d completely forgotten about until now.

Nathan leans to the side to look at it, then back to Warren, “...okay?”

“It doesn’t bother you that we only have that devastatingly tiny twin bed?”

“You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not–” Warren frowns, “you don’t think that’s weird? That we’re going to be all up in each other?”

Nathan narrows his eyes, “well, now you’re making it weird.”

“No! I mean–it’s just gunna be cramped, that’s all–”

“Just shut up and get in.”

“Right. Okay.” Warren shuts up and awkwardly waits as Nathan throws back the covers, climbing in after him a second later. I’m just sharing a bed. With Nathan Prescott. Nothing weird about that. Nope.

And it…surprisingly isn't. Once the two shuffle themselves into comfortable enough positions it’s really not that bad. They lie back to back, and Warren doesn’t even notice he’s there. So tired that he doesn’t have the capacity to internally rack over the situation. And soon after his head hits the pillow he’s already drifting off. He’s almost gone, too, until–

“Warren?”

Warren’s eyelids flutter open, taken aback by the sudden disruption in silence. But even more so than that is the soft way Nathan speaks his name. He’s never heard such uncertainty in his voice. He almost believes he imagined it. Almost. “…yeah?”

“Why are you helping me?”

Warren frowns, unknowingly to Nathan. He has nothing but the darkness of the room to stare into. Pitch black, leaving only his mind to picture how Nathan looks when he poses the question. His voice shaking and at an octave Warren isn’t used to hearing from him  “I already told you—“

“It doesn't make sense. The things I’ve said to you. The things I’ve done to you. Like that day in the parking lot.”

Warren holds his breath. “Yeah. That was pretty shitty. You were kind’ve a dick.”

There’s a dry laugh from Nathan that lacks any real humour, “kind've?”

“Okay. More than kind've. The way you hurt me, and Max… honestly I more than kind’ve hated you. You’re fucking mean and scary. I mostly avoided you around school cause, well. The one time I didn’t I ended up with an almost broken nose.” It was true, Warren’s well aware of his feelings for Nathan before all this started. He had really despised him–a fact that never really bothered Warren before.

And Nathan was scary. What happened in the parking lot isn’t something Warren’s going to forget anytime soon. And yet… in a way he had. When getting launched through time together he didn’t think twice about approaching Nathan. Sure, most of that decision was likely dictated by an adrenaline-induced bravery slash panic at the fact that Warren had been afraid he’d accidentally killed the guy, but the moment they’d stepped foot in an alternate time–far from the Blackwell they knew–Nathan was different.

He was still frantic, all over the place, and downright mean, though it all lacked its usual bite in comparison to the Nathan from the parking lot he’d witnessed with Max. It was almost…a muted version. Lessened, if only slightly. He still had his moments, like in the diner after Warren insisted on working together. The anger that flashes so suddenly, without any warning. Some of his agitated and frantic nature lingering, too. The occasional glances around them when they’re in public and how he fidgets incessantly while getting worked up.

But there are other things. New things. Signs of an easy-going Nathan beneath it all. It’s buried deep, but if tonight proved anything, it’s that Nathan is human. There is a person there. One that’s flawed. Flawed to an extent that Warren is starting to realize is way deeper than the surface level he’s always assumed.

Assumptions. Of who Nathan is. Warren doesn’t know if he’s more confused than ever, or finally starting to see some of the pieces that make up Nathan fall into place.

Warren breathes out slowly into the silence that’s built up between them again. He musters the courage to continue, voicing what it is that he wants to say. What he thinks he’s right about, but doesn’t know for certain. “But… maybe… all of that, all of what you do… doesn’t come from nowhere. That there’s a reason behind your… I don’t know…” That maybe you’re hurting, too. Warren doesn’t speak aloud his last thought. He’s hesitant to take it too far, even though Nathan initiated the conversation in the first place.

In his admittance–and the following absence of a response–Warren’s heart rate picks up in anticipation. A minute passes. Then two. Then Warren loses count. And in the expansion of quiet, he thinks Nathan might have fallen asleep. But then Nathan whispers something. It’s so softly uttered that Warren can’t quite make out the words. Nathan shifts beside him. And he knows. Warren knows without seeing him that he’s uncomfortable with his own confrontation. That he regrets it.

Warren doesn’t know what to make of it all. He tries to repeat the conversation in his head amidst the battle against exhaustion that threatens to completely consume him. He manages to hold onto consciousness long enough to discover what it is that Nathan had said. And how it didn’t make sense at first, until Warren realizes Nathan had been talking to himself. About himself. Simply stating what Warren had been reiterating the whole time himself.

Destructive qualities.

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

I’ve been getting into life is strange and I was always curious. What if Mark Jefferson had a daughter and they moved because his wife just left him a note and ran off. His anger comes out and destroys the apartment. He manipulates his kid when this happens, wanting to maintain the little control he has. They move to Arcadia Bay and his kid adjusts well considering. Then he takes Nathan under his wing to help get his hobby going. Then he finds out that Nathan has been taking photos of his daughter when she’s not looking…….serial killer side of him comes out and makes it very clear to Nathan his daughter is off limits from their little hobby.

—❢ー

×A/N×

omg I really love the last sentence of this

I mean- I love all of this, but-

I know that it would be better if I would write an oneshot of this, but the last time when I did the same thing with a promised oneshot, the work was... pretty bad-

I hope you don't mind it! ^^"

Btw I'm happy about you're planning to join to the LiS community, or at least you're curious/interested about it! Unfortunately in my social group there aren't really people who knows the fandom, so I'm always happy about new fans! ^^

And sorry bc I didn't answer this inbox, I just wanted to get done with the Welcome Home headcanons :")

Anyway, in these hcs I will be a bit negative about Mark, but I still love him -//w//-

(I'm actually planning to write more x readers about him-)

×❢ About my work ❢×

fluff and definitely not fluff, dad moments, Mark is not the greatest father, there's also my thoughts in this, pls forgive him, this is not x reader, (bad) father-daughter realtionship, no pronouns used, but the reader is female, spelling mistakes, mention of kidnapping, mention of the Dark Room

Fandom: Life is Strange (1)

Charcter(s): Mark Jefferson, Mark's daughter|You| (Y/N) | The Reader, Nathan Prescott (mentioned), Warren Graham (mentioned), Max Caulfield (mentioned), Rachel Amber (mentioned)

Ship(s): Warren Graham x Reader (ex.), Nathan Prescott x Reader (ex.), Max Caulfield x Reader (ex.)

Type: Headcanons

—❢ー

𝐈𝐟 (𝐘/𝐍) 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫… (𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐜𝐬)

—❢—

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: Hayloft by Mother Mother

(A.n: 'Cause this is the next on my playlist and I love it so much lol)

“My daddy's got a gun

You better run”

—❢ー

Oki, let's start with some sweet ones:

• If he's not tired, then prepare for breakfast in bed

• "Did you sleep good, hon?"

• morning kisses 🥺❤

• while you cry on him, he would gently caress you

• "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart."

Now, some serious stuff:

• He wouldn't be the greatest father tho, I think

• still, I think he would be protective about his daughter

• 'cause of his hobby and about boys in general lol

• Seriously I think he would feel safer if you would chose girls instead

• but it's your choice ofc

• He will definitely talk about his job and of photography ofc

• If his daughter not interested, then he won't push it

• ofc, he will be a bit bitter

• but he understands it

• Although, he will mention or talk about it just a bit sometimes

• But if you are interested in photography

• be prepared that photography will be you two's first or at least second topic

• he's a real teacher, so you won't have problem to learn from him

• Actually I think he would be happy about that there's something that you both can talk about

• (at least the suspense will be less from you, and it helps him to keep you away from his crazy hobby)

• Don't mention Mom.

• You will see him less more, when you are old enough to be left alone

• He comes home late, and he does this more often

• "Dad?" you asked unsurely when he picked up the phone. You were worried, so you choose to give him call. Is teaching lasts this long? "Where are you?"

"Oh... Daddy's working right now, sweetheart. I promise, I will be home soon, okay?"

And he kept saying this after hours and hours.

• Get used to that you will be alone for a long time

• He will ask you teasingly about if you like someone

• but the real reason is that he wants to know who he has to deal with

• his reactions depends on the person

• If the person is Nathan (who is his... well, let's say partner of those insane things), he will be definitely more protective and will keep an eye on both of you for a long time

• deadly and serious threats ahead, if he still won't leave you alone

• he will be potective because he knows Nathan very well and the crimes that himself he commited, and other side bc he's a father and he wants to keep his beautiful daughter safe

• But if the person would be for example Max, he would be more relaxed

• (He would even think trough her kidnapping. There's a chance that he won't hurt her. Even if it's hard for him to conntrol his sick addiction)

• He still tests her if she's good enough for you, but he will be more easier on her

• OR let's say the person is Warren-

• "The geek?"

"Dad!"

• He doesn't know that much about him

• and bc of this he will definitely test him

• I mean he doesn't mind that you're with smart boys

• but you know, he has to make sure

• Now, I think we're almost there at the end of these hcs-

• You sat in the can uncomfortably. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but it didn't help.

"So, was the test okay?" you heard you father next beside you.

You nodded, even if you knew that he doesn't see you 'cause he's focusing on the road.

"Dad?" You spoke unsurely, don't know how to say out loud your thoughts.

"Yes, sweetie?" He glanced at you with a kind smile on his face, but it dissapeared when he saw how stressed you were. "What's wrong, honey?"

You tried to swallow the nervousness, but it was worthless and didn't help at all.

"So, you know those Rachel Amber missing posters? They're almost everywhere."

Mark could feel how his heart skipped a beat. Now he started to feel nervous as well.

"Yes, dear?" Focus on the road. Focus on the road. Focus on the road. Focus on the road.

"Did you know her?"

He let out a small sigh. He didn't want that his daughter notice that he's nervous. He tried to act calmly.

"No, sweetheart." he spoke as he hid away the frustration in his voice.

"Okay." you said quietly. You sounded convinced.

He carefully glanced at you again.

"Are you scared?"

There was a couple of seconds until you answered.

"Maybe... I don't wanna imagine what terrible things those people did to her. But my mind keep distracting me, even if I don't want to think about it."

You could feel the gentle touch of his warm hands.

"Don't worry, hon. I'll keep you safe."

And with that you were convinced that your dad is there and you're more than safe with him.

• Why would he be a bad father?

I think his psychotic hobby would be more important to him than his own daughter. He would be definitely overprotective about you, but also he wouldn't be there for you. Like there's no movie night, cause again, he has things to do in the Dark Room.

Yes, he would care about his daughter, he would also be a good listener, but you rarely meet him. He wouldn't be there for you when you need him.

I don't think he would hurt his daughter physically, but don't test him. He's enough stressed about his victims.

And he would pay too much attention about keeping you safe.

From his hobby, from Nathan, from everything.

[meshla-cyarika]

SFW alphabet

Nathan Prescott's SFW alphabet!!!

--------------------------------------------------

A - affection (how affectionate are they with you?)

In public, Nathan's affection towards you is dropped down to holding hands, an arm around your shoulder or waist. You'll get a kiss, if you're lucky. He isn't big on PDA because his parents raised him to think that showing your love for someone in public is inappropriate and frowned upon.

But when you're all alone, it's a whole different story. If you're trying to concentrate on something, Nathan will make it his life goal to distract you and steal affection from you. Whenever you're alone together, he's holding onto you in some way whether it's having you sat on his lap, or just holding onto you in some way.

B - best friend (how are they as a bestie?)

Fucking insane. Expect to do some crazy ass shit 24/7. He'll hang around you like a lost puppy, whether you're doing weed somewhere, or terrorising the neighbourhood

C - cuddles (how do they cuddle?)

This man will cuddle you in any position, as long as he's touching you he doesn't care. Although, in the beginning of your relationship he was very tense when it came to cuddling you and physical touch in general. He didn't want to be seen as vulnerable or weak, because he was scared that you were going to make fun of him for it. Because of this, he resulted to spooning you, so he could still hold but be able to not show how much he's enjoying it.

Now, he prefers to be held by you, because he knows that you won't laugh at him for it and you won't tell anyone. He'll also just lay ontop of you and rest his head on your chest.

D - domestic (their thoughts on settling down)

Nathan has never had a domestic moment in his entire life, until he met you that is. He does want to spend his entire life with you, but he isn't prepared to drop everything and become a normal citizen of society yet. He wants to spend his youthful years as rebellious as he can, but not to the point where it could ruin both your lives.

E - ending (how would a breakup go?)

A breakup with anyone else, wouldn't bother Nathan the slightest bit. But with you, he would actually lose his mind. Expect alot of shouting and yelling, then sobbing and begging for you to stay. Nathan has spent so much time with you, the thought of you splitting up never crossed his mind, so he was really shocked. He would start spiralling downwards rapidly. Not attending his therapy sessions, not taking his pills, lashing out at everyone. All he wants is you and that's the one thing he can't have.

F - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment?)

Nathan was originally very weary of commitment, purely because he feared that you'd leave him like everyone else. But after a year of you dating, he realised he couldn't picture his life without you. Nathan was raised to think that marriage is the best way a relationship could go. So, he waited a little while after you both graduated before very nervously popping the question. Obviously, you said yes. (If you dont I'll personally murder you for crushing this poor boy's heart)

G - gentle (how gentle are they with you?)

You know that Nathan is the most rigid person to ever have existed and won't hesitate to through someone out of a window. Which is why you were so shocked when he held you so delicately as if you'd break like glass. And the way he speaks to you is so timid and soft, a tone he's never used with anyone else. You're the only thing in his life that he actually gives a shit about, so he's going to protect you at all costs.

H - hugs (their thoughts on hugs)

He's not a very big fan of hugs. He'll side hug you tho, wrapping his arm around your waist to bring her hips next to his. The only time he'll accept hugs, is if you reward him with a kiss aswell.

I - I love you (who's the first to say it and how often is it said?)

Surprisingly, Nathan was the first to say it. It happened when you were comforting him after one of his many nightmares. He tucked his head under your chin and you ran your fingers through his hair. You let him sob and tell you all about it, while comforting him. Nathan realised in this moment, how this is the first and only time someone has treated him so gently and softly. In comparison, everyone else treats him like trash. So, in the darkness of the night he muttered a small, "I love you." And his heart was pounding agaisnt his ribcage as he waited for your response. "I love you too, idiot." You said back, kissing his forehead.

You only share "I love yous" in intimate and private moments. Nathan doesn't like the idea of just saying it every five seconds, because then he thinks it loses it's meaning. So, you both always cherish your "I love you" moments because you can tell how sincere it is.

J - jealousy (how jealous do they get?)

Jesus Christ, this man can go from zero to one hundred real quick. If he sees you having a conversation with a guy he isn't friends with for a little too long, he's marching over and making an obvious display that your taken. If he sees someone straight up flirty with you, he'll straight up tell them to fuck off. When they eventually leave, he'll kiss you with a burning desire, as if proving that you're all his. Despite all of this, he's never angry at you. He'll never say that you were purposely leading the guy on or anything. He trusts your loyalty.

K - kisses (their thoughts on kissing)

Nathan's all for kissing and making out, but not so much in public. He'll stick his tongue down your throat to his heart's content in the safety of your rooms, but not in public. He'll kiss your cheek, or peck your lips quickly in public, so people don't see him as soft and vulnerable.

But drunk and high Nathan is a whole over story. He'll take you to a quieter area of a Vortex party and press himself agaisnt you while you're backed up agaisnt a wall. You can't say you don't love him like this, but you do remind him that you can't do this here because of how fast photos and videos spread around Blackwell. You don't want him to do something he'll regret while he's not even sober.

L - little ones (their thoughts on having children)

Honestly, Nathan is fucking terrified of having kids. Purely because, he fears that he'll turn into his father. If it ever were to happen, he definitely wants to be in the right state of mind, not on any illegal drugs and not drinking any alcohol. He really doesn't want to fuck up raising his kids, like he has with everything else (his opinion).

If his father comments on how he thinks that Nathan is doing a shit job as a dad, his heart will shatter into a million pieces, because someone confirmed his biggest fear. But you and his sisters make sure to tell his dad to shut the fuck up and assure Nathan that he is doing a good job and he is a good dad.

M - mornings (how do mornings usually go?)

When you're still in Blackwell, mornings last only for a couple of minutes. You wake up from the light bleeding through the curtains and listen to the students starting their day in their dorms. You and Nathan sleepily talk about how shit your days are gonna be, while pressing lazy kisses to each other's skin.

When you're on summer break, or you've graduated and in your own home, your mornings are so much more relaxed. You stay in bed for atleast two hours, holding each other and telling each other how beautiful you think one another are with sleepy voices. It takes you atleast half an hour to convince Nathan that you actually need to start your day.

N - nights (how do your nights go?)

When you're still at Blackwell, your nights start with one of you sneaking into the other's room. Then, you watch a movie on his laptop and cuddle in bed, sleepy kisses passed between you both before sleep consumes you.

When your on summer break, or you've graduated and living in your own home, nights are more calm and layed back. You huddle up under the covers and do whatever you want. Watch a movie, talk about your days, make out 👀. You end up falling asleep way later than you do when you were at Blackwell, as you have more freedom over your schedules.

O - open (how open are they about your relationship?)

It takes a few months for Nathan to annouce your dating, he just wants to make sure that this isn't just a fling or something and that it's for real. He doesn't show PDA alot, but people know that your dating, mostly because Nathan wouldn't let anyone get as physically close to him as you do if you were just friends.

P - patience (how much patience do they have with you?)

Nathan is alright with you requiring some time to figure something out in your relationship, considering how much time he needs in your relationship aswell. If you need him with you alot of the time, he doesn't mind that either. He admires your presence.

Q - quizzes (how much do they remember about you? Like little details?)

It might not seem like it, but Nathan is very observant of the things you say. He makes mental notes of your interests that you've mentioned and stuff you've said you want. Which is why he's an amazing gift giver. If you say you like something as a one off, months later on your birthday he's got it wrapped up for you. "Nathan, this was five hundred dollars!" "So?"

R - remember (their favourite memory with you)

Nathan's favourite memory of him and you is your first kiss. He took you to the lighthouse and you were looking out at the sea, a golden ray of sunshine lighting up your face. Discreetly, Nathan pulled out his camera and snapped a photo of you, causing you to turn to him. You tried to grab his camera to delete the photo, but he raised it above his head, where you couldn't reach. You were up on your tiptoes, trying to snatch the camera, not realising how close you and Nathan were. You stumbled forward a little and Nathan instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you. You looked into his eyes and he looked into yours. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

S - security (how protective are they of you?)

This man is able to act as your boyfriend and your gaurd dog. It's well known around the school that Nathan and you are an item and that your both off limits. So, when the oblivious new kid was trying to hit on you, Nathan was beyond fuming. You're surprised there wasn't any steam coming out of his ears. Nathan was fully prepared to smash the new kid's nose into sidewalk, but you felt bad for him and let him down easy, telling him that you already had a boyfriend. That's when Nathan appeared. You subconsciously stepped inbetween them, knowing that Nathan was about to become uncontrollable. The kid hastily left after seeing the dirty look Nathan was throwing his way over your shoulder. That's the plus of having a gaurd dog boyfriend, he's an asshole but he's your asshole, so you can some what calm down his anger.

T - try (how much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries etc)

When it comes to dates, Nathan uses his rich boy privileges. He takes you out of Arcadia Bay and into a nice town that has an even nicer restaurant. As much as you love that Nathan has spent all this money on you, you don't like these type of dates as much as you would like. You know, that Nathan isn't being his real self when he does things like this, he's just doing it because this is what a stereotypical boyfriend should do. You prefer it when he takes you to quieter places within Arcadia Bay, like the Two Whales, the lighthouse and the beach at sunset.

When it comes to anniversaries, Nathan only cares about the main ones, like when you two got together and when you got married etc. He doesn't really care that much about the more little ones. But he does go all out for anniversaries, again because he knows that this is what a boyfriend/husband should stereotypically do. He gets you expensive gifts and takes you to the lighthouse, where you share so many fond memories.

U - ugly (a bad habit of theirs)

Nathan has a habit of putting his status first beyond anything else. Which means that sometimes he does stuff that he doesn't really want to do, purely because it will make him look cooler and boost his popularity. This is why he doesn't like PDA, because he fears that people will make fun of him for loving someone.

V - Vanity (how insecure are they?)

Nathan is very insecure about so many things. He's made this facade that he presents infront of everyone, so they don't get to see the damage behind it. You can see right through it, but you'd never call him out on it. You both have a silent agreement that when he let's his gaurd down with you it stays between the two of you.

W - whole (do they feel while when they're with you?)

Yes, one hundred per cent. He feels so complete and content when he's with you, because he knows he doesn't have to act like someone else. He can just be him. And you love seeing the real Nathan and how you can now understand him so much better.

X - xtra (a random headcannon)

Nathan can't sleep in silence. He needs a tv on, or his laptop playing something, or a playlist playing on his phone. He can't sleep without something playing in the background, because when he's left in silence he over thinks things too much. The sound distracts him and eases his mind.

Y - yuck (a personality trait they hate)

Nathan hates it when people try to get close to him just for popularity, or just to try and get closer to the Prescott family. He can't stand people using him and he doesn't have time for it. So, if someone tries that with him he tells them to fuck off and he can ruin their lives in a millisecond.

Z - zzz (sleeping habits)

Nathan has to sleep holding onto you somehow. He has to be holding onto your arm, or keeping one of your legs entangled with his own. This isn't really sleeping habit, but he has a fucked up sleep schedule. Like he'll wake up at five in the morning one night and then only just get into bed at five in the morning another night. #fixthisman'ssleepschedule