Lazy Note: Hey there, Strangers. I'm trying to get as much writing done as I can because in a week I'm going on vacation for two weeks, and I probably won't be updating during that period. God, I can't wait to munch on pizza and sit in the sun. I'm too pale. :/

Also, I've been on a 'Them Kate Feels' kick this past week, so don't be surprised if that plays a part in this.

Anyway, on to the GrahamScott goodness. BTW, just a note that I will probably change the title of this collection sometime in the future, and I will let your guys know before I do so. I don't want you people to be any more confused than you already are. :3

Enjoy!

Secret or Not

by

xLazyxWriterx

Summary: Nathan's an ass, and he knows it.

Rating: T

Around an hour ago the sunset had radiated across the clouds, burning a molten orange with bands of pink and violet. Now, it was hard to imagine such vibrant colors within the darkness of the night sky. Warmth that once clung to the earth was freed and was replaced with a cool breeze chilly enough to raise goosebumps along exposed skin.

Nathan wrapped his jacket around himself tightly, attempting to maintain what was left of his remaining body heat. He sat himself on one of the many picnic tables in the area with a small huff. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, and his legs bounced in unison. He kept his narrowed eyes on the brightly lit fireflies that buzzed around in the campus of Blackwell Academy. They seemed to be the only source of light within the black void of the night. Even the moon hid it's face from him.

He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and checked the time. Shit, 12:37. Had it really only been that long? He felt as though he had been walking around campus for hours and hours. At least, that's what his numb legs told him. The hairs on the back of his neck and along his arms rose to attention, and he found himself rubbing at his covered arms in hopes of sparking some sort of heat within his veins.

Everything was still, quiet. Nathan couldn't remember a night as silent as this one. Right now, the Vortex party was going on at the pool, and he wondered why he couldn't hear the palpitations in the ground from the tempo of the music, or smell the lingering scent of sweat and booze.

He heard nothing. While there was a light smell of fresh cut grass, it wasn't strong enough to override his senses.

Nathan closed his eyes and rested his head within his arms on the table, his body involuntarily trembling. His neck and shoulder muscles relaxed as he sighed heavily. The day before yesterday, none of it seemed real. Hell, Nathan wasn't sure if he was convinced that it wasn't another hallucination. Seeing Kate stand on the edge of that roof, looking down at everyone with eyes that seemingly accepted the fate of death.

Nathan barely knew her. That's why is annoyed him when rumors of him drugging the poor girl swirled in the winds of gossip. Yeah, he wasn't a goddam saint, but he didn't drug her. Hell, the night of the party he had offered to help her, but when he turned his back she had vanished. She wasn't his responsibility, anyway, so he didn't think about it. Then, she went and told Max that he drugged her and that just made a huge mess in Wells' office, and he got suspended. Yeah, his father was real happy about that one. God...

Nathan shifted his head to lean on the other side. Max just thought she was all high and mighty since she dragged Kate's ass down from the roof. Hell, even before that he got that impression of her, and especially now with all the shit she was trying to pull; ratting on him being with a gun, blaming Kate's attempted suicide on him, getting him suspended, dressing like Rachel, and questioning him and pretending to actually give a damn. Then, there was an other matter entirely - dammit.

That hipster ho was getting on his last nerve. If the two of them hadn't been in public yesterday he would've put her in her place, regardless of the consequences. Hell, when did he ever think of consequences? Obviously never because he had managed to piss Warren off to the point of complete cold shouldering.

"Goddammit," Nathan mumbled into his arms. His body twitched, searching for warmth. His ears were beginning to go numb, and the cold had soaked in through his socks and shoes. God, he was miserable.

Okay, okay, he was an ass. Alright? He did stupid shit...like headbutting Warren, and then taking his anger out on him. Yeah, if that wasn't the definition of an abusive relationship then he didn't know what was. He blamed Max because - because he didn't want to blame his own stupidity and dickishness - she was the reason for his anger in the first place. What the hell did Warren see in the chick, anyway? She looked like ass.

...And he was an ass.

Well, damn.

Nathan pushed off the bench and stretched out his stiff legs. The first few steps he took his joints popped and ached. God, why was it this cold? He could see his own breath coming out in heavy puffs and fogging over his face. He shoved his fists into the pockets of his jacket, and kicked rocks as he made his way to the boys' dorm.

It was a secret because it had to be, not because Nathan wanted it to be. If he had his way, then he would raise his middle finger to anyone who looked on him with distaste and misplaced curiosity. But, no, his father. God, that asshole was the root of all chaos in Nathan's life; prescriptions, therapy sessions, fits of rage, uncontrolled emotions, drugs and alcohol, constant pressure, and continual dread and constant hiding...

At this point, his only source of peace and forget had been him. Yeah, right, him of all people. Sometimes, Nathan couldn't even believe it. Nathan was a piece of shit, and yet, Warren Graham had seen something worth acknowledging. The guy was smart, goofy, a bit awkward, and kind, and even though Nathan had pretty much pissed on the guy every chance he got, Warren was still kind to him when no one else was.

The memories of Warren betrayed eyes as he rubbed at his swollen head occupied Nathan's mind, and he felt his chest tighten as a reaction. The argument that had occurred after the incident was still fresh in his mind, as well. Warren had been so pissed, and Nathan was beyond furious, and everything just when down the shithole. That was the last time they talked, and - shit - he missed him.

Nathan should've at the very least apologized for punching him. Nathan's temper had made him see red and he wanted Max's blood, and Warren got hurt because of it. But, no, Nathan was always right and no one could tell him otherwise. Nathan Prescott was perfect and everyone else was shit. Hardy, har har...

God, he was an ass.

Nathan approached the dorms, and his eyes searched the various windows for one in particular, only to find darkness within...just like the others. Nathan sighed, pulling the doors open and stepping inside. The warmth of the building hugged him and he shivered as a response.

Walking down the hall, he passed him room and found himself staring at the door leading to Warren's room. His heart thudded harshly in his chest, his stomach twisting into a bundle of nerves. Warren was asleep, and he shouldn't wake him at this hour. God, it was way past midnight, and yet, Nathan remained there. He glanced over at the whiteboard beside the door.

"Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence." - E. A. P.

Nathan's lips twitched up into a small smirk. Of course Warren would write some weird shit like that. It looked fresh, too, since no one has defaced it yet. People around here liked to do that. The smirk still playing on his lips, he faced the door once more.

Gathering every last nerve, he knocked harshly on the door. There was no answer. Nathan waited a few seconds before knocking again, but this time much louder. He listened carefully, and heard a few mumbled from the other side of the door. The door still didn't open. Nathan frowned. "Warren," he quietly called, giving another knock.

The door opened slightly, and Warren peeked out with obvious tired eyes. Nathan's gaze softened at the sight of a disheveled Warren; hair matted yet sticking up, dark eyes unfocused and lined with shadows, lack of shirt. Warren stared at him blankly. Nathan reached a frozen hand out and pushed the door more open. Warren stepped back, allowing Nathan to step in, closing the door behind them.

Warren yawned, scratching at his neck as he turned a lamp on. The darkness was swallowed by the dim light. "Shouldn't you be getting down with th' Vortex club...?" Warren slurred, holding back another yawn. Nathan shook his head, and reached out - more roughly than he probably should have, actually - and yanked Warren against him.

Warren jerked back. "Holy hell, dude, you're freezing!" Warren pushed Nathan away, his hands remaining on Nathan's jacket. Nathan slipped out of the jacket, letting it drop to the floor before he tugged the still drowsy Warren back to him. Nathan pressed his parted lips against Warren's, thankful for the heat they emitted against his chapped, icy ones.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against Warren's, mumbling, "Sorry I'm an ass."

Warren scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Meh, nobody's perfect." He reached over and pinched Nathan. "My eye's fine, by the way. Thanks for asking."

"Whatever." Nathan replied, brushing his lips against Warren's once more. Warren intertwined his heated fingers with Nathan's frozen ones, instantly melting the iciness with a single touch.

Secret or not - either way, it doesn't matter - Nathan was content.

Oh my, what time is it...? Ah, jeebus. I did it again. I stayed up late writing about Nathan and GrahamScott goodness.

I think I might need help.

Thanks for reading!

xLazyxWriterx