Despite how Nate had never been sure on how exactly he wrangled up the grades to get into Stanford, there was never a time when he regretted that choice. Running across the country to get somewhere better, with better opportunities, had let him meet Pierce, and from there the rest of his life was the history they knew. When your only older brother was ten years ahead of you, it strained the relationship somewhat - which was why Pierce was a closer friend than most of the rest of Nate's own family. The almost-thirty years of working together only made that stronger.
With the kid comfortably back in his room, Nate took the stairs (he would have tried the elevator, but he had to get in a little exercise somehow) up to his room, dropped off his coat, and then went up the last few flights to the tower room. He envied Pierce a little for this kind of amazing view but wasn't about to hold it against him - he was allowed to visit any time, after all. He pushed open the door and gave the room another once-over.
"What is your obsession with foreign beer?" he asked, shutting the door behind him and coming to look over Pierce's shoulder into the expanse of the fridge. "I'll take the one that sounds like it came from an English-speaking country, thanks."