Chapter Text
A beam of hesitant light flickers on as Warren presses down on the power source. A sheepish smile crawls up his cheeks as he, careful as to not slip on the wet floor, exits the office and stands absentmindedly along the pool side.
Then—Nathan follows in, not quite as careful with the floor plan as Warren was. He’s not quite clumsy, but not quite still, either, and Nathan is much too hotheaded to really pay much caution to his surroundings.
Warren gives him a sort of stiff smile. Nathan, though, quickly avoids his eyes as Warren tries to make some sort of pathetic effort to relate to him in a way that’s plausible. “So… Nathan .”
“Fuck do you want?” He spits back—Warren flinches momentarily, only to realize he’s stuck awkwardly across the room from him. “Hey, you’re the one who dragged me out here!”
“I didn’t… I didn’t drag you out here, okay? I invited you. And you happened to take it, okay? And I didn’t suggest breaking into the school afterhours, did I? That was all you, man , so don’t just stand there and look… I don’t know… so… much like Nathan Prescott.”
Warren’s jaw clenches when he doesn’t reply. Instead, he looks more offhanded than anything, his arms folded clumsily across his chest and that familiar scowl still planted right on his fucking face. Warren doesn’t mind it, but he also doesn’t mind when Nathan cracks a small smile every now and then. In fact, it’s quite comforting to see—knowing that even somebody like Nathan fucking Prescott can smile every now and then. He wasn’t sure if that was even possible before becoming closer with him.
“ How else am I supposed to fucking look !? I am Nathan Prescott, you fucking retard!” He shouts back, but Warren stifles a laugh. Nathan freezes, dropping his hands at his sides as Warren’s hand flies up to cover his chapped lips. “Are you laughing? Graham, are you fucking laughing at me ?”
“No,” he hesitates. “not… laughing at you, Nathan.”
“Then what the fuck are you laughing at?!” He clenches his fists at his sides, his jaw only slightly hardening, and Warren scoffs as the laugh jumps back into his throat before it can cause another black eye. “whatthefuckever. It’s not like I give a shit what you do.”
“God, you’re such a bitch,” Warren says briefly. He sways side to side awkwardly for a moment, just a moment, and Nathan shoots him another look—something along the lines of,
‘I’mgoingtofuckingskinyoulikeadeerandwearyouasafuckingtrophy’, and Warren returns this with a genuine smile. “so, are we getting in or what, asshole?”
“Dude, fuck off. I’m not doing shit with you, okay? Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbles.
Warren gives him a square look. Again, he’s hesitant.
“What?” Nathan stares back.
“Are you hearing yourself? You suggested this. C’mon, Nathan, you don’t have to keep up with that tough guy act around me. I can see right through you.”
Nathan doesn’t buy it. Or, he just doesn’t care.
“Dude, get in the water before I fucking push you in,” Warren suggests, and instantly, Nathan is reaching for his shirt.
Warren, through laughter, pulls his t-shirt over his head before discarding it by the rafts held to the wall. He briefly glimpses at the supplies lining the shelves against the wall, then, turning his eyes back to the pool, he watches as Nathan frees himself from his jacket and shirt.
And, being the person he is, Warren tries not to look. Or, more like, he tries not to look without Nathan noticing him staring. He turns his back, then, Nathan glimpses over his shoulder for a second. The two of them exchange the most-awkward-of-awkward-glances, then Warren clears his throat with a fake cough to excuse himself from Nathan’s eyes.
Much to Warren’s surprise, Nathan doesn’t say anything. He has a tendency to pick on Warren, or make his life a living Hell just because he’s Nathan Prescott and he can. He does whatever the fuck he wants, and though Warren pays it no mind, of course, that’s still his friend. And even if the two of them stood completely vulnerable in front of each other, Nathan would still find a way to pick on Warren for the tiniest thing.
Warren likes the thought of being close with Nathan. That’s mainly why he’d invited him out in the first place—he was bored on a Friday night, and though Warren wouldn’t consider them to be best friends, sometimes they’d spend dead free time with each other just to keep themselves from dying from boredom.
And Warren likes it. He wasn’t sure if Nathan does, but he really does enjoy their time together.
Warren tries not to think about it too hard as he takes off his pants, then turns back to face the luminescent teal water—Nathan fights his pants off of his legs, and Warren just stares and bites his knuckles without him noticing.
Under his breath, he scoffs something similar to, “Fuck. Fuck this. Get the hell off!”
Warren purses his lips. Cracks his knuckles. Swallows.
He tries not to feel himself blushing as Nathan slips out of his pants feet from him.
Nathan eyes him. “What? Are you fucking—”
“I’m not laughing,” Warren insists as he chuckles. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back, biting his lip, whatever.
Nathan rolls his eyes. “Fuck this. Get over here. You’re testing the temp, ‘kay?”
“Why me?” Warren whines, but obeys and joins him by the rickety latter on the edge. He dips his foot in, then winces and pulls it back, choking out, “cold.”
“Cold? Shit, okay,” Nathan hums.
As Warren focuses on the ice shooting through his foot, he’s suddenly flung forward and into the pool, face first, his elbows braced against his chest for an impact that dunks his head under the icy water and sends him up for air.
Once his eyes peel open, Nathan is hunched over, laughing his fucking Prescott ass off while Warren suffers in the water like a wet dog. “Fuck you, asshole!” Warren shouts. His trembling hands rub his tired eyes before Nathan hesitantly climbs down the latter and into the water.
“Fuck! It is cold! Shit,” he yelps, and this provokes another stubborn laugh from Warren, who, in return, Nathan splashes him with a wave of cold water. “shut the hell up, retard! What do you think you’re laughing at, huh?”
“You’re a fucking dick, Nathan! You pushed me in, and now you’re… fucking—” Nathan sends another wave of water his way, and Warren, still sputtering from his previous fall, ducks to the side and covers his face with his shaking arms. “knock it off, dude!” He chokes out through momentary laughter.
Nathan descends into the pool, and Warren lets the water carry him away and into the opposite direction. For a moment, it’s peaceful, and Warren dips the back of his head into the cool water as it warms up against his body heat, which… is already an insufferable amount hotter than usual.
Especially when he knows that Nathan Prescott is practically naked a few small feet from him—that very thought sends him reeling, or into some forgotten la la land he must’ve formed when he was a child, but he stiffens and tries not to let the thought irk him as they swim together.
For some time, Nathan stays beside the latter and clings onto it as he watches Warren float in the pool. Then, when Warren shoots himself up and towards Nathan, they’re both laughing and splashing each other with waves of warmer water.
And as Nathan draws away from the latter, Warren continues to attack him with circles of not-so-elegant waves, the water still not so hot , but not unbearably cold, either.
Nathan reaches across the dead space between them and takes Warren by the hair, dunking his head quickly into the water. And once Warren’s underwater form attacks Nathan’s bare stomach with pointless punches and claws like an animal, Nathan pulls his head up from the water.
Warren gasps for air, his eyes squeezed shut, then flung open as he stares at Nathan in front of him—now, incredibly close, a bit too close for comfort, with a giant smile plastered on his flushed face.
“Fuck off , Nathan!” Warren gasps.
“Fucking pussy deserved it ,” Nathan says with a dry laugh.
There’s now a limited amount of space between them… and that makes Warren’s head whirl. He might be dizzy for a moment, till he notices Nathan’s hands burning on his shoulders like a fucking forest fire. He instantly heats up before awkwardly scooting away from his advances and murmuring something incoherent under his breath.
“Did you say something?” Nathan squints at him. Warren only smiles and nods.
“No.” He falls back onto his back and sticks his limbs out like a helpless starfish. “Nope.”
“O-kay,” he hums.
Then silence falls between them again. Warren rises, his feet grazing the bottom of the pool, watching as Nathan looks down into the water at his own legs and watches them move in the water.
“You okay?” Warren asks. Nathan barely looks up.
“Yeah, whatever,” he says. When he finally meets Warren again, he flashes a quick smile. “hey, I’ve got an idea. A totally fucking killer idea.”
“Okay, shoot.” Warren waits patiently as Nathan paces and grows slightly closer.
“Let’s race. See who reaches the deep end faster. Start over here. On the wall.”
“God, Nate, do we have to?” Warren groans—when he realizes how badly he’s fucked up, Nathan is already turning his head in the opposite direction and covering his cheeks with his hands. “sorry. sorry. That was totally… fucked up and out of my place. Or out of line.. whatever. Sorry.”
Nathan doesn’t say anything for a while. He waits with his back turned to Warren, his shoulders hunched slightly, and Warren just wants to feel his spine, caress his gentle skin or maybe kiss him then and there.
“‘s fine,” he murmurs. Warren itches the back of his neck. “I don’t care. Call me whatever the fuck you want.”
Warren lingers on that for a moment. And only a moment, because Nathan is halfway to the wall and Warren is standing around and moping like an idiot.
He lines up with Nathan on the wall, his left hand steady against the concrete edge as Nathan adjusts his legs in the water and stares down at the other end.
Warren follows. He tries to mimic how Nathan looks, but he just seems so elegant and organized, like he’s much more experienced with this than meets the eye.
“On the count of three, okay? Just. Fuckin’… shoot yourself off. You know the deal.”
“Right. Yeah. I got it,” Warren stammers.
Nathan gives him the honor of a shy smile. Warren nearly suffocates. It’s a fucking reward.
When he counts down from three, the poor, flimsy, unathletic Warren Graham descends into the water and spurts out an insane amount while Nathan swims yards ahead.
Warren calls out, “Nathan! Get your ass back here! This is unfair!”
Nathan makes it to the other side before even considering what Warren had asked of him. He waits in the deep end, his hands studying him against the wall as he watches Warren awkwardly paddle over to the other end.
“Having some trouble?” Nathan asks with a smirk. Warren scoffs.
“Sorry that I’m not in the fucking Olympics,” Warren grumbles.
“That was pathetic,” Nathan says. “ you’re pathetic. God.”
Warren would never admit this, but something stirs inside him when Nathan says that.
It sounded so right on his tongue, so perfect when barely escaping his cold, chapped lips that Warren so desperately wanted to kiss without hesitation.
Warren tried to ignore himself blushing and the twisting in his chest.
“Maybe I am,” he replies shallowly.
Nathan combs a hand through his wet hair. He smooths it all back on his head, seemingly how it usually sticks, but Warren studies him a bit closer.
He notices how Nathan’s hair is almost curly when it isn’t intensely gelled back by whatever shit he uses to make himself look more like a fucking Greaser than anything else. And he can’t help but notice how beautiful his blue eyes look in the water—they’re like a serene ocean view that Warren would like to drown in.
He blinks, and Nathan is blinking back, staring awkwardly at his flustered face. Warren straightens his back as he paddles towards the edge of the pool to sturdy himself.
His shaking hand feels his hot forehead. He never knew this would be so humiliating.
“Fuck’s your deal?” Nathan turns to him. His chin rests on the ledge of the pool, just beside the diving board where they hover. He tilts his head so slightly, curls of blonde hair falling gently in his eyes…
“ Nothing ,” Warren coos. He can’t help but stare.
“Jesus, Warren, with the way you’re fuckin’ looking at me, you could be in love with me or some bullshit,” Nathan says with a dry laugh.
Cupid might personally be out for Warren Graham’s spinning fucking head.
“ What? Sorry. Sorry,” Warren says. “I’m not… I’m…uh….”
“Spit it the fuck out,” Nathan says sternly. But he’s still got a sweet smile plastered on his face, and Warren can’t quite read him.
“I’m not… in love with you. I… I mean, I could be. If you wanted me to. I guess. I don’t really…know…”
Warren sinks. He thinks he must be the world's biggest idiot.
There may as well be a sign in the center of Arcadia Bay stating that, he, Warren Daniel Graham, is the world’s biggest fuck up.
He bites his lip and tries to read Nathan’s mind. He’s seen it in hundreds of movies, you know, mind-reading, or rewinding time. Why couldn’t he be cursed with that eternal burden—?
Nathan’s face is still, but barely readable. He folds his arms neat as a blanket against the edge of the concrete and stuffs his chin in between the crevice.
“Sorry. Ignore me. Sorry,” Warren blurts out.
“You’re fine,” Nathan says.
It grows silent. And awkward. And heavy.
Warren locks eyes with his legs dangling in the inky abyss of dark pool water.
Nathan hides his face between the comfort of his scraped-up arms. Warren didn’t want to say anything about his cuts, but they’re kind of hard to look away from.
Warren would rather throw himself onto Nathan, kiss every inch of his body, including the faint lines of milky white that inhabit his arms and stay like that forever than relive this moment.
He really does wonder what goes through Nathan’s mind. What makes him do things like that to himself.
What makes him such a textbook asshole. What makes him so hot. What makes him Nathan in the first place.
Warren’s eyes trail down his sides. He avoids his arms, lined with white cuts, and focuses on his chest and his stomach and his thighs and every place that Warren would fucking beg to kiss.
After a second of incoherent thought, Nathan says, “Do you even like me, Warren?”
It catches him off guard and in the moment. Why else would he be having these fucking thoughts if he didn’t want to devour him—?
“Course I do,” Warren sputters.
Then he wonders: does he mean literally or romantically.
Warren freezes.
“—In what way?”
“Huh?” Nathan tilts his head.
“Y’know. Which way do I… like you…in.” Warren chokes.
Nathan seems frustrated. Likely, he’s grown to be that way after Warren fucked things over by calling him ‘Nate’ instead of his precious ‘Nathan’. God, he still feels red.
Warren draws slightly closer. Only slightly. But Nathan notices.
“Like, do you mean—”
“Do you wanna kiss me, Graham? Is that it?” Nathan asks, and it nearly sends his heart down his throat.
“What? ” Warren freezes in fear like a helpless deer in headlights.
But Warren doesn’t deny it. He truly doesn’t.
Nathan must notice, because when Warren blinks, he suddenly appears inches from him—his lips slightly parted, eyes curious, hands paddling by his sides.
Warren says nothing. With a heart beating out of control, he patiently waits for Nathan to make whatever move he’s thinking of making.
His eyes flicker from Warren’s lips to his half-lidded, yet surprised eyes, then the rest of his face and everything that comes with. His freckles, his dimples, his chapped lips, his eyebags, his forehead…
“Answer me. Do. You. Want. To. Kiss. Me. Graham,” Nathan repeats.
Warren can’t think straight. “W…Why does that matter? Why should that matter? It shouldn’t. Matter. It shouldn’t. Nathan.”
Nathan only looks puzzled. Warren’s mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. He can’t speak. His throat has forgotten him and left him behind to fend for himself and himself only.
“Graham, answer the fucking question, you bitch,” Nathan demands, and once he gets stern like that, that’s when Warren starts to turn to puddy.
“ Jesus fucking Christ , so what if I wanna kiss you, Nathan? God ! You’re so stingy! And nosy!” Warren shouts back.
The heavy silence between the two turns into something else. Nathan focuses solely on Warren’s face, then his lips, and Warren’s dizzy mind tries to conjure up any way to get the fuck out of here without embarrassing the hell out of himself.
Nathan tilts his head. Warren watches him intently. And surely, the lingering space between them comes to a faint close as Nathan draws near to Warren’s body heat in the cold water.
He slithers his arms around Warren’s shoulders. Still—Warren finds it increasingly difficult to use his words in any manner. Nathan just stares, blinking with little intent, his eyes only slightly narrowed as Warren parts his lips in acceptance.
He kindly places his shaking hands along Nathan’s sides, down by his waist, and slowly pulls him closer as their eyes trail down.
“Warren,” Nathan says quietly.
His heart skips a beat. It feels like a record that barely skipped the ending of a song. His lips twitch into a smile as Nathan returns said smile with delight.
“Mmmmmh?” Warren hums in return. His words haven’t quite returned yet.
“ In what way ?” He mimics Warren’s previous question in a sing-song voice. Warren’s face scrunches up from the embarrassment. “I thought you were supposed to be fuckin’ smart.”
“What? I am smart. At least, I think I am. I didn’t know that you thought so, too,” Warren says with a small smile.
Nathan rolls his eyes. Scoffs. Hesitates. Watches Warren’s lips. It’s tense, but Warren can bear it. He wants to see how it plays out.
“Graham, I asked you a fucking question, and you never fucking answered it,” he says.
“I did,” Warren insists. “I said I liked you. And… when you asked the… other thing… I said… that… it shouldn’t, y’know, matter.”
“That’s not a fucking answer, you retard,” Nathan tells him. “it’s ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Not maybe. Not… fucking… ‘it shouldn’t matter’. Yes or no. Do you want to kiss me?”
Warren gives in. He sulks, then, with a pathetic, sly nod, he mumbles, “yes.”
“Do you?”
“I said ‘yes’, didn’t I?”
There’s that silence again. Warren might bask in it some other time, but he doesn’t now. He sits completely still, every muscle waning against their purpose not to move now. Not to fail him now.
And Nathan studies the rest of his face and his shoulders and his bare chest and his arms and smiles like he’s the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen, then kisses him gently on the lips.
It only lasts a second, but every moment during feels like fucking Heaven. Warren flutters his eyes shut, letting Nathan’s hands roam all over him, letting himself taste Nathan, letting Nathan fill his senses…
When he pulls back, Nathan’s face is slightly redder than before. He doesn’t seem to get beet red like Warren tends to, but he’s always thought it was adorable when Nathan would get fed up and look like he just got picked from a vine in the yard.
Warren hesitates to get closer. He watches Nathan move in the water, his eyes half-lidded and admiring this new form of him. He cracks a small smile as Warren brushes a hand through his wet hair.
He inches in, yet, their mouths unbearably apart, and brushes their noses against each other before fully turning himself in. Warren presses his chapped lips to Nathan’s soft, warm ones, his fuzzy head completely lost as Nathan brings them closer by the back of Warren’s neck.
He gently brushes his fingers along where the hair ends, still sleek and cold from the chlorine and pool water. Then, Nathan tilts his head for deeper access—Warren allows it. He presses himself closer to Nathan, letting his body heat engulf him like a fire, letting his smell and taste and feeling flood Warren’s senses like a waterfall.
Warren’s hands find strands of Nathan’s somewhat curly hair as they continue to kiss—his head, still foggy, doesn’t prepare him for what to do. The only thing Warren’s ever kissed was stuffed animals when he was a kid, or awkwardly to pillows as he pretended they were Max or even Nathan sometimes. Yet, when his eyes flicker open to watch Nathan kiss him, he seems satisfied enough.
Nathan pulls him forward by the back of his neck, then his cold hands return to the comfort of Warren’s straight shoulders and back. Warren squeezes his eyes closed and slides his hands along Nathan’s hard jaw like he’s a sculptor and Nathan is his work of art. He kisses him longer, then deeper, then angles his head to the side and opens his mouth slightly as to welcome Nathan’s tongue.
He feels Nathan’s tongue slip between his teeth for a moment, then, he savors the taste of Nathan’s lips moving against his own with every ounce of strength he has in himself. He brings himself closer, lightly wrapping his arms around Nathan’s waist as if he were to drag him down into the pool water on his own accord.
Nathan smiles—when he does, Warren catches it as he briefly opens and closes his eyes, and as Nathan’s tongue travels around the inside of his mouth, Warren makes some sort of small noise—not quite a moan, but not quite a whimper, either.
Nathan slowly draws back. They’re torn apart by a string of saliva before Nathan wipes his lips, obviously sulking in embarrassment before Warren runs his hands through Nathan’s drying hair with comfort and ease.
“Did you wanna kiss me ?” Warren asks softly.
Nathan’s eyes dart away. He’s much too embarrassed to accept what’d just happened.
“Nathan?” Warren takes Nathan’s face in his hands, still smoothing his palms along his hard jaw and tilts his head up, just barely pressing their wet foreheads together. “C’mon. You made me like this, Nathan.”
He scoffs. So, not totally ashore, but not far gone, either.
“That was hot,” Nathan says, still awfully disheveled and weak. Warren cracks another sheepish smile and shakes his head. “so fucking hot. God, Graham. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Shut up, I totally do,” Warren says. “...as a matter of fact, I’ll show you.”
He hooks his arms around Nathan’s shoulders and traces absent circles into his bare back. Then, he leans forward and presses their lips together, a bit harsher this time, and a bit rougher than it was before.
Warren feels Nathan’s lips against his own and basks in the feeling until he pries open Nathan’s mouth with this tongue. He inserts it between his teeth like a coin inside an arcade machine, and he cracks a shy smile at the comparison as his mind drifts into that direction.
Nathan pulls tightly on Warren’s hair, then his scalp, then lets out a small whimper as Warren drags his tongue along his teeth without much genuine thought. He presses his hands to Warren’s chest, slightly pulling in and out like a magnet, then resorts to moving along Warren’s still hips underwater.
Warren lets out a soft moan into Nathan’s mouth. He runs his tongue along his teeth, then turns to fighting his tongue like it’s some sort of sword fight in an obscure video game of sorts. Or a movie. Or anything other than a genuine moment between them.
Nathan freezes, pulling himself backwards and suddenly hesitates, then he watches as Warren tilts his head forward to look at him in the incoming darkness surrounding the rest of the pool.
It’s just the two of them. Alone. Freezing in the water, yet so hot—Nathan’s body heat keeps Warren warm in the moment, and he can only pray and hope that it’s the other way around for Nathan.
“Fuck,” Nathan gasps. He covers his wet lips with a trembling hand, then eyes Warren as he starts to laugh. “fuck’re you laughing about?”
“How are you not laughing now, Nathan! I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking giddy!” Warren rests his feet along the wall and hangs off, semi-upside down like a monkey, then pushes himself away from the wall, leaving a trail of white waves and bubbles along the pool side.
Nathan laughs a bit. It warms Warren’s heart to see him like this, even if it really is just the two of them alone.
Warren uses whatever strength he has left to swim back to Nathan and the edge of the pool. When he does, he rests himself right beside where Nathan lingers beside the diving board. He admires him, even in the faint darkness of the pool room and the reflection of the water printed against the steel ceiling.
Without thinking, Warren’s already risked it all. He sputters, “you’re beautiful.”
Nathan turns to him. His eyes, wide and frozen, can only study Warren’s complex features as a grin crawls up his red, freckled face. Nathan seems hesitant, but accepts.
“You don’t mean that, asshole. Now you’re just playing with my feelings. Or whatever,” Nathan mumbles.
Warren leans over his shoulder, pressing his chin closely into Nathan’s neck. He debates on kissing him, but decides not to, having made too many risks in five minutes alone with Nathan fucking Prescott.
“I do. Not messing with feelings. Or whatever you said,” Warren explains. “I’m honest. I’m not the kind of person to lie all the time.”
“That sounds like a fucking insult to me,” Nathan says.
“Maybe it was. Would that be so bad?”
Warren looks up at him with pleading eyes. And fuck, he almost completely melts.
“Kiss me again. I liked it,” Nathan says quickly. Warren pulls back from his shoulder, his hands still wrapped around his back, and kisses him for the third time.
This time, he pulls back, snaking his arms down Nathan’s bare back and trailing an amount of kisses along his jaw and neck. Nathan chokes out a small noise again that almost sends Warren reeling.
Warren nuzzles his head in the crook of Nathan’s suddenly warm neck. He nests himself like a bird, his lips pressed to his collarbone as Nathan strokes the back of Warren’s soaking hair. He pulls him up by his hair, bringing him forward, then pressing another rough kiss to his lips—Warren gasps for air, fighting against Nathan for what little control they share, then turning his head back to the side to kiss his neck.
Warren quickly sinks his teeth into the skin on Nathan’s neck as if he were a hopeless vampire—Nathan gasps, digging his fingernails tighter into Warren’s itchy scalp.
“ Fuck ,” Nathan chokes out. “ Warren , I…”
Warren straights his back. His uncontrollable heartbeat could almost be the rhythm to a song he’d hear on the radio.
“Was that okay? Sorry,” He stammers. But Nathan only stares with this anxious look in his eyes… Warren bites his lip. “ Nate —”
“Do it again.” Nathan clings onto Warren with his life. And between his fingers in his hair and the tugging at his scalp, Warren leans down and buries his head back into Nathan’s neck and bites.
Warren can almost taste the smooth, metallic skin, cool and wet from the pool water, but as he licks up Nathan’s neck, he only gasps out small moans and squirms helplessly. Warren digs his front canines into his neck, then deeper, then lower and lower.
The pace of which Nathan breathes quickens and soon becomes uneasy. Warren hooks a free arm over his trembling shoulder, then he inserts himself directly between Nathan’s two shaking thighs. He doesn’t dunk his head underwater to kiss his chest like he should, instead, he bites and bruises the area along Nathan’s sensitive neck as he whimpers.
“Are you thirsty? Cus… I could…fucking…spit in your mouth and make you swallow and you’d fucking enjoy every damn second,” Warren mumbles.
Nathan leans his head back as if he’s in agony—which he’s far from.
“Do it. Fucking do it. Please. I want you. So fucking bad.”
Warren takes Nathan by the chin and easily tilts his head up. He pries open his mouth with his thumb, then draws closer and, with no hesitation, spits a line of salvia into his mouth and onto his tongue.
He watches as Nathan hesitantly opens his mouth, then, as Warren wraps a tight fist around Nathan’s neck, he swallows.
“Yeah, that’s good. That’s fucking good as hell, Nathan,” Warren says with a fist in Nathan’s hair, and another around his littered neck.
Nathan whines, “Bite me again. Please, Warren. ”
Warren sinks his teeth deeper and sharper into Nathan’s neck. He tightens his hand’s faint grip around it, too, leaving Nathan slightly struggling for limited air.
“Nathan, you said earlier that I could call you whatever I wanted,” he says quickly. “what do you…what do you… want me to…”
“Baby,” he pants. He takes a moment, suddenly embarrassed, then lowers his head and sulks. “ah…uh…I…like baby. Can you…”
“Uh-huh.” Warren nods against Nathan’s forehead. “okay, baby . Don’t be embarrassed.”
Nathan gently closes his eyes. He sits in Warren’s presence, bathing in it, basking in it, whatever.
“It’s okay, baby.” Warren’s eyes linger on his sticky, red lips as a hand trails down his chest and dangerously close to his boxers.
Nathan chokes out a small whine. Warren traces his fingers gently along Nathan’s calm stomach.
Warren bites down on Nathan’s neck, warranting another small whine, then another, and another. He claws his fingernails into Warren’s scalp and brings his head up to kiss him. His nose digs into Warren’s comforting skin as he kisses deeper, quicker, hotter—-
“Wait, wait, baby .” Warren gently sways back, their sweaty foreheads still stuck together with a force similar to glue. He lets out a hesitant, dry laugh, his skin melting closer to Nathan as he, too, lets out a confused laugh. “I wanna… call you something and… you tell me if you like it, okay?”
“W…what the fuck, okay?” Nathan pulls back.
Warren loosely smiles. Just as Nathan rebuttals, he says, “Can I call you mine ?” With a small laugh.
Nathan stares like Warren has a pumpkin for a head. “You’re not fucking real. Fuck, Graham, you’re not real.”
“Oh, I’m real. I’m very real—” He carefully slides a hand closer to the waistband of Nathan’s boxers—”Is this real?”
Nathan hesitantly looks down, just barely sucking on his bottom lip before Warren can kindly slip his hand into Nathan’s boxers. He gives him another sly smile, which Nathan tries to turn, but he’s complete slush at this point.
“Is this hot in the pool? I dunno, I haven’t seen enough pool porn to tell,” Warren says out loud. He hums, which Nathan leans into as he kisses Warren harder and quicker. Warren smoothly breaks apart, choking out a small, “wanna take this elsewhere? That’s… not… in a pool, I guess?”
Nathan lets out a broken sigh. He forces a pathetic nod, grounding himself against Warren and his sticky lips and every other part of him that he may like.
Warren focuses primarily on Nathan’s eyes. The lighting does him no justice—he’s always admired Nathan and his attractiveness from afar, but up close, he could be a whole different creature. He’s almost sculpted too perfectly to be mistaken for a human. He could be a fucking painting, or a statue, or some other heavenly work of art that Warren would never dare to tell him.
When Nathan doesn’t reply, or, at least, doesn’t use his words to his full advantage, Warren pulls his hair, wrapping another hand around his throat and squeezing, just enough to make it hard for Nathan to catch his breath.
“Baby,” Warren whispers.
In the close proximity of Nathan’s ear, Warren takes the lobe in his mouth and chews, almost nibbles like a hungry rat, and squeezes his hand against Nathan’s neck again. He gasps out a harsh, shallow breath, whining something under his breath.
Warren brings him closer. “What was that, baby? Baby, I couldn’t hear you, baby. Speak up, baby.”
His grip tightens. Nathan goes utterly red, his mouth hanging open as he lets his eyes closed. “War—”
Nathan clings to Warren’s forearms. He doesn’t pull him away from his throat, but he strangles out some unfamiliar noise as Warren smiles to himself and enjoys this feeling of foreign power.
“War, please— ” He chokes out until Warren finally loosens his hand and lets go. Nathan takes in a giant gasp of tense air, then crumbles against Warren’s wet chest. He pants like a helpless, horny dog, his hands clawing down Warren’s speckled back. “Fuck me. Holy sh…it…”
“You okay, baby? You wanna go back?” Warren whispers into his ear. His voice is smooth like honey, soft like a faint song on the radio, kind and friendly, yet something foreign lingers beneath that he can’t quite pinpoint himself. “Baby?”
Nathan pants, “Holy shit, baby. That was so fucking hot. Fuck… I’m…”
“What else do you want me to do to you, baby? I mean…what else… are you, ah.” Warren ducks his head in shame. “...what do you want, baby?”
“I don’t…” Nathan shakes his head rapidly, his eyes still and glued shut. “I don’t know. Not here. I don’t… fucking…”
Warren cradles Nathan by his neck, easing him closer, kissing his cheeks and jaw as he smiles thoughtfully. Nathan blinks away cloudy vision.
“That’s alright, baby,” Warren whispers. “fuck, Nate, you look so hot. You always look hot. But fuck. My God… I never…”
“Let’s get the hell out of here, okay…?” Nathan flutters his eyes open. He stares square at Warren’s flushed face, his skin hot to the touch as if he were a fire all along. A small smile creeps up the corners of his mouth, then when Nathan returns said smile, he only grins harder. “your room. Let’s. Go to your room. Fuck.”
Warren wraps his hands around Nathan’s gentle waist and hoists him up and towards the ledge of the pool. He climbs out, still sopping wet and exhausted, while Nathan slings Warren out by his hands and lands him inches from his face once he’s escaped the water.
They kiss again, lips like anchors for each other, and Warren runs his hands down Nathan’s, still, bare back and kisses every inch of his—seemingly—perfect face. Warren then takes his final gasps of air to admire him in the growing darkness of the pool, then turns back to slip into his clothes and leave through the locker room.
As he towels himself off by the pool side, Warren watches as Nathan steps back into his jeans, then clumsily pulls up his belt and buckles without a shirt on. Still, his heart beats out of control and his body twitches like he has no control of himself.
Warren slides back into his clothes and leaves the wet towel hanging by his absent locker in the damp locker room. Nathan studies his own for some time, digging through cheap, unfinished homework assignments and half-empty pill bottles. He finally pulls out whatever he’s been looking for and shoves it idly into the front pocket of his jeans, then grabs Warren by the arm as they exit the pool.
“What was that?” Warren squints at Nathan in the darkness—his arm hooked around his like schoolgirls, and he grins.
“Condom,” Nathan says.
Warren rubs his eyes. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”
The two go running out of the locker room, their arms still hooked, laughing their heads off as they skip out into the school’s wide lobby and dance past cameras. Warren chases his shadow through the hall and out into the campus as Nathan lags close behind and kisses the back of his neck as they move out.