That Lingering High

Syrup

Nothing is more embarrassing to Nathan than this moment right now, standing outside this kid's door, holding his apology in a brown paper bag, at the literal ass-crack of dawn. At least no one but him is actually awake-Well, him and Warren. He can hear the guy jammin' out to some techno-remix of the "Bill Nye" theme song at medium volume. Its kind of adorable, but mostly obnoxious.

Let's hope for his sake, none of their cohorts wake up to see him waiting there and looking like an idiot.

His thoughts travel to his response for when Warren actually opens the door. What will he say? Chances are it'll start with an insult and end with a door slam. The whole dorm will wake with laughter and cruelties. Maybe taking his meds before this encounter was a bad idea. Nathan should just turn around and wait for another day, actually plan this out before he makes a fucking fool of himself.

Sadly, he has no chance to do this, music shutting off abruptly.

The door to Warren's dorm opens and Nathan is met with the brunet himself staring down at him. The other's initial expression is confusion, which inevitably turned into annoyance, "What do you want, now? I said my apology, we're even." His eyes trailed down to the paper container Nathan was clutching onto like a lifeline, face full of disgust. It was shoved towards him seconds later, pink knuckles digging into his chest. Warren thought it was weird that the other gave no immediate response, putting his hand underneath the bag so it wouldn't drop to the floor when Nathan let go.

Why wasn't he letting go?

In his head, Nathan knew this would go horribly, but not this bad. He felt his stomach churn and threaten to throw up some day-old acid. Maybe even a lung or two. Figuring this out by himself is terrifying, head dipping down to quietly scold himself for making this harder than it has to be. Next thing he knows, he's pushing Warren back into his dorm and following. His roughness was uncalled for. He knows this. But in no way shape or form is he in the right mind to say sorry for it.

The blond does end up dropping his apology in Warren's hand, turning and shutting the door so the anxiety of people finding him is gone, as long as he's quiet, which isn't as easy as it sounds. No doubt, the brunet will have words about this intrusion. Wonderful. Just what he needs.

"Nathan, what the fuck? I didn't exactly invite you in here by opening my door. And what's this all about?" Warren holds out the small bag, shaking it gently for emphasis, "If you're trying to make me hide your drugs then you can just forget-"

"No!" Nathan interrupted, "The bag-No. Open it, open it. I wanted..augh." His voice trailed off, trying to find the right words to say in order to get his point across.

At least the other heeded his instruction, opening the bag and sitting on his bed to look at the contents. The gift got Warren to relax a little, smile even, pulling out a soft cookie with icing on it. He examined the treat briefly, "Why?"

Nathan dug the tips of his fingers into the pad of his palm, cracking his knuckles out of habit against his sides, "Its a fucking apology for being a dick a few days ago. Something I thought you'd appreciate. If you don't want it I can just take it back. Or like, if you're allergic to anything. Fuck. Why didn't I think of that? I don't even know what shit they put in there. Do you even have any allergies? Like-It looks like dough and sugar and icing. What the fuck else is it made of besides blue food coloring? Stop staring at me and eat it, fucker. Shit. I mean-nevermind. Just ignore me."

"And you tell me that I talk a lot." Warren chuckles lightly through his nose, bringing the treat to his mouth and biting off a piece. He uses his free hand to pat the place beside him for Nathan to occupy, and he does, with slight hesitation, although it seems to go unnoticed.