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The third time he ends up curled up on Warren's bed, he has to admit defeat.
He tried his best to believe the first time had been an isolated incident, something he hadn't meant to let happen, a moment of weakness. Even when he crawled back to his door two nights later, seeking shelter and comfort and (he despised even the thought) help, he still thought it would never happen again. Yet there he is, three nights later and here again, his back against Warren's chest as he listens to the quiet breathing behind him.
He's done it again. Same as usual: nightmares, sweat, fear, the oppressing darkness of his room, the feeling of suffocating in his bed, and eventually getting up to knock on Warren's door. From there it all went downhill and he told him about his dreams and shook against him and went to sleep in his arms.
This is ridiculous and he has to put an end to it.
It was different when Victoria used to do it. Sneaking into Victoria's dorm room wasn't weak, it was rebellious, it was alright. If anyone had found out he'd been doing it they'd assume he was fucking her (the idea kind of disgusted him) and she'd be mad but nobody would dare mock him for it. If they found out he was sleeping in Warren's room, though...
It wasn't even the same with Hayden. It never really mattered with the guy, because he was so aloof and cool; he'd never make a big deal out of it. They just happened to crash in the same place after a party and fell asleep in the same bed. And if he sometimes woke up in a tight embrace and sleepily felt Hayden's fingers stroking the scars on his arm, it didn't mean anything; it wasn't that Hayden cared or worried, it was just drunken late party nights.
There's no sort of excuse for what he does with Warren, and therefore it has to stop before it goes too far. Before he starts to grow used to it, and before he's unable to get himself through the night without some nerd hugging him tight.
If he was sane he would extract himself from his arms and walk right out. But he doesn't.
As he's found, Warren is ridiculously warm, or perhaps Nathan is cold, he isn't sure. Under the covers, it feels like he's pressed up against a radiator. It's comfortable, just like Warren is; familiar, just like Warren is; it feels like home. Nathan isn't too sure what home even means, because he can't think of a place that would be it, of a place he'd feel like he belongs, but if home could be a moment then this would be it. The moment right after Warren's breathing evens out into slumber and he feels the body behind him curl up slightly. He wants nothing more than to stay right here and it terrifies him.
One of Warren's arms is wrapped tight around his chest and he sets a hand on it thoughtlessly, feeling the warm skin and fine hairs and the proof that someone is here, he is safe, it's okay. Each beat of Warren's heart against his back assures him of it.
It takes very long for him to get to sleep, because he's too busy studying the feeling of the moment, as if he can analyse the comfort and defeat it, understand the mechanism of happiness itself so he can make it stop torturing him.
When he eventually falls asleep he still hasn't found it.
*
He wakes up to early morning's light filtering through the blinds and Warren's morning wood against his ass. Classy. He makes a vague attempt to move further away from the offending erection, fails, and gives up. He actually doesn't really care. He's had much worse than an unconscious guy's nature call. An attempt to nudge Warren awake also fails, so he takes revenge by cuddling close against him, tucking himself under his warm arm before closing his eyes satisfiedly. It's quite comfortable, and he again halfway dozes off, only vaguely aware himself that he's awake, until, an unknown amount of time later, Warren wakes him fully again by hurriedly pulling his hips away. It'd be much more awkward to admit that he's willingly let the erection incident happen, so Nathan keeps pretending to sleep. It's not very hard, because he wants to sleep anyway.
Thankfully, Warren doesn't get up or move away, just lays there quietly, so quietly that Nathan suspects he's trying not to wake him up. Fine by him, he's ready for round two of sleep. He probably has classes, and also doesn't care.
He still notices when Warren's hand travels down from where it rests on his chest and idly pets him. It's ridiculously mundane, just a few fingers stroking the soft of his stomach, right under where his ribs are sticking out awkwardly, and he wonders for a moment if he's alright with this before deciding that he is. He doesn't want people touching his stomach or seeing it, usually, but this is fine. Warren doesn't mean any harm, so it's okay.
He lets it go on for ten minutes, give or take, before Warren buries his nose in his hair and... smells it? Alright, this is getting weird, so he pretends to wake up and stretches his legs and moves to sit up.
Warren looks only mildly embarrassed.
"You're finally awake. We've missed science class."
Nathan scoffs dismissively.
"You say that like it was my fault. You coulda gone without me. Or woken me up."
Warren just shrugs and mumbles "didn't wanna" before getting out of bed.
There's no one in the dorms at such a late hour in the morning, so they head towards the bathrooms together, brushing their teeth silently. Nathan stares in the mirror when Graham starts taking off his clothes for a shower, unashamed until Warren catches his eye in the reflection and smirks - then he quickly fixes his gaze on the sink. Warren sticks around for an awkward time, until Nathan finally turns around, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks and hating it.
"Is there a reason you're standing around naked instead of taking your fucking shower?"
"Waiting for you", the other says easily, like it's the most natural thing in the world, and he finds he has nothing to answer for a few seconds.
"What do you mean, waiting for me?", he asks eventually, with an almost offended tone.
"Saving the environment", Warren answers cheekily, giving him that grin he's seen on him many times before. "What, you already sleep in my bed."
"Only three times!"
"In a week. Come on in."
With that, Warren walks into one of the shower stalls, leaving it open, and Nathan turns away for a moment in panicked contemplation. And, after a few seconds, he pulls off his pants and his shirt, even though he never takes off his shirt in front of anyone (except Victoria, and Hayden, and Mark... Which is already too many people). He sets his clothes down and follows Warren into the shower.
The water is hot, he almost hisses at the sudden change before he gets used to it. Warren has already started washing his hair. Nathan never starts with his hair. He grabs some soap and starts scrubbing at his shoulders and his chest and his arms, careful where recent scars are only begging to be reopened on accident. He almost jumps when he feels Warren's hands on him.
"What are you doing now?"
"Getting your back, dude. Hope you're gonna do mine."
He allows it with a grunt, and finds himself kind of liking it. Not that it isn't weird. Nobody has washed his back since he was a kid and he didn't expect anyone to. But it does feel nice, somehow.
When he's all washed up Warren turns around and Nathan starts washing his back, running wondering hands over the slightly tan skin and the muscles of his shoulders. No one ever lets him touch them, really. People are scared. Victoria allows him to grab her hand sometimes and gives the occasional hug when he's really bad, but she isn't a touchy-feely person. And while Hayden might've let him hug him and touch him and all that, Nathan didn't want that from him, didn't want to make it weird or raise odd questions.
So maybe he hasn't put his hands on anyone in a long time - not really, just fleeting handshakes and pats on the back and all that. Maybe he just wants to take his time actively feeling another human being. There's nothing wrong with that, which is why he's kind of offended when Warren starts laughing.
"Stop giggling."
"I think my back's all clean by now."
"It is."
He takes his hands away quickly, and Warren turns back around. Nathan is about to say something mean to ease up the tension he feels, before he gets pulled right into the other's arms, against his chest, and, oh boy, that's a hard cock on his thigh, no mistake about it.
Warren doesn't say anything about it and just pushes him against the wall - very cold against his back, very unpleasant - with that same smirk Nathan has come to realize means he's doing something he thinks is mischievous and quirky, like when he tells a terrible pun. This isn't mischievous and quirky. Nathan doesn't know what this is, actually, except that now there's the warm weight of someone's dick on his skin, and he can feel how full and demanding it is against him, almost like it's a foreign object and not a part of someone's body, and everything feels warm and steamy in here, except for the chill of the wall against his back, and, alright, he's kind of overwhelmed.
Warren must have noticed because he suddenly looks concerned, and after a second he's backing away, putting his hands up in surrender, and starting to say something to apologize. Nathan doesn't want to hear it.
"I'm okay", he says. To prove it, he pulls the other boy back in. As soon as Warren's body is back against his he realizes he does want it. He wants whatever this is, wants the touch and the smell and the taste and everything that comes with it. Warren's cock pushes against his own, which makes him realize two things: first that he's growing pretty hard himself, and also that Warren is fucking hung. He wonder how he didn't notice this morning. Somehow it's so ridiculously cliché - the nice naïve nerd with a huge fucking dick, it's practically a porn stereotype - that he finds himself laughing. Warren clearly doesn't get it, but laughs with him nonetheless. Nathan's laughter grows into a moan when their hips stutter together, not quite there yet, not quite right, but close enough. He hooks his arms around the geek's neck. Next thing he knows, they're kissing.
There's a lot of lips, first, an overwhelming amount of lip, slightly chapped and quite wet from the shower, and their mouths slide together easily. He isn't sure what he's doing, but he does it readily nonetheless. Their noses bump together once before they get it right. There's a unique taste to Warren's mouth that Nathan tries to focus on, to remember for later, but he gets mad at his unability to describe it, and gives up. The second time their hips roll together it's much better.
One of Warren's hands is craddling his face, a thumb stroking his cheek, and the other rests on the small of his back, a weird contrast with the still cold wall (a shudder runs down his spine as he remembers again just how cold it actually is). Nathan lets a hand down to stroke Warren's chest.
"You're hot", Graham manages against his lips. Nathan doesn't answer, just kisses him breathlessly again.
The hand moves from his face and he's disappointed for just a second before it grabs his own, fingers lacing together. Warren hold his arm up against the wall (cold again, so frigging cold, wonder how he'd like it freezing his literal ass on this wall) and they grind together again.
The kiss breaks eventually, mostly because there's just not enough air to spare in their lungs anymore, and they just stare into one another's eyes for a few seconds until Nathan starts feeling awkward. He buries his face in the crook of the taller boy's shoulder to hide it. His mouth finds the hot skin of his throat and kisses idly. Warren gives a satisfying moan.
They keep grinding against each other, slow and quiet, and Warren's hand leaves Nathan's to go down his arm. He shudders as he feels his fingers on the scars. There's no shame, no fear that Warren will be grossed out and no attempt to hide it; just the general discomfort with himself he regularly feels. Warren doesn't say anything about it. His hand keeps traveling down his arm and shoulder, down to his chest. Nathan moans quietly as a thumb rolls over his nipple, before the hand is running down his side and settling at his waist. He grinds against Warren, his busy mind going back again to the ridiculous size of the cock against his.
'Someone ate his vegetables', his foggy mind states out of the blue, and he frowns at his own thought, wondering where it even came from. He finds he had really weird thoughts in the middle of this sexual encounter; he expected his mind to clear out completely, to go blank with the pleasure, like people always describe it, yet instead he finds he retains his complete ability to think - which is honestly reassuring. His mind tries to make an analogy with what Mark did to him but he pushes the thought out entirely because it would ruin everything.
"You're so fucking big", he blurts out, because it seems like something that needed remarking upon.
"Thanks", Warren says with a laugh in his voice.
"It wasn't a compliment."
Warren actually laughs at that. He tangles a hand in the boy's wet hair and makes himself stand taller so he can grind against him better. There's a urgency to both of them as they start to grow close to their climax, and their movements are getting pretty sloppy and fast and clumsy but it's alright, it's perfectly fine. Nathan likes it all the same.
He cums first with a choked moan, and Warren follows suit as Nathan hides his face in the crook of his neck again. He gives a soft sigh and Nathan feels the muscles in his stomach relaxing. Now that he's off the wall, his back feels somehow even colder, so he's grateful for the warm water.
"You're a dick", he states. Warren looks at him with incredulity for a second, then sudden panic.
"I- sorry--"
"For pushing me against the wall. It's so fucking cold. I can't feel my ass."
Warren's face relaxes and he lets out a laugh, before pulling Nathan back against his chest.
"I'm sorry. I'll warm you up."
"You better."
"...But you know, there's other ways I could make you not feel your--"
"Stop right here."
Warren's grin is weirdly contagious, and surprisingly, Nathan ends up smiling right back.