I put down my pen and flex my fingers irritably. Writing is something I love to do, but writing essays on subjects that don't appeal to me is hard to get excited about. My eyes keep flicking to the moleskin notebook which is propped up amongst my favourite novels and I sigh. I've been steadily filling it with fond thoughts and memories, attempting to be as truthful and transparent as possible and it's become my new favourite thing to do. My fingers itch to write anything not uni related and I agree whole-heartedly, but I force myself to get my assigned work out of the way.

My phone buzzes for perhaps the hundredth time in the past hour but I don't bother to look at it. I know for a fact that it's our group chat with Ash and Robin, and I know that the only reason Sam is messaging it so much is because he's trying to inadvertently annoy me, as I've already banished him from my room twice today.

He's doing a good job at it too, purposely taunting me. He's tried every trick in the book; begging, complimenting, yelling, even trying to make me feel sorry for him but none of it has worked yet. He's becoming impatient and I know that he means well; he only wants to spend time with me, but I've been deplorably short of time since my birthday.

I want to spend time with him too, believe me. I thought he knew that but recently he's been more withdrawn and I'm starting to worry. My phone stays silent and I swivel round in my chair, padding towards the door in sock clad feet.

Instead of calling his name, I poke my head round his door; which is perpetually propped open by a miscellaneous item of his. Sam is flopped face down on his bed, his phone laying on the floor across from him and I wonder if he purposely threw it there or if he simply can't be bothered to retrieve it.

"Sam?" I murmur quietly, not wanting to wake him if he's asleep. However, his body leaps to attention at the sound of my voice, his neck twisting unnaturally quickly as he turns to face me.

"Yeah?" He asks, a tentative smile pulling his lips upwards.

"You wanna hang out?" I ask, amused at his puppy like enthusiasm as he bobs his head in affirmation. I glance at my watch, leaning back against the frame of his door.

"You want to get brunch?" I ask, deciding it's not quite late enough to warrant lunch.

"Yes! I'm dying to get another one of those breakfast sandwiches." He mumbles, pulling a shoe on with one hand as he reaches for his wallet.

I pout at the idea of going to Starbucks, my mind calculating that Alice would most definitely be there on shift. Hopefully Sam is in the mood to talk because I am most definitely not.

"Alright, but you're the one who has to deal with Alice." I mutter darkly and Sam flashes me a grin.

"Not a problem!" He chirps happily. I roll my eyes and make my way into my room, shoving my arms into my jacket, pulling on a beanie and patting my jeans, ensuring my phone and wallet are where they're supposed to be. I hear Sam bound down the stairs, his feet shuffling in excitement.

"Elias, hurry up!" His voice echoes and I grin, making my way down the stairs slowly.

Sam's face has fallen into an unimpressed and unamused glower and I laugh under my breath. He flings open the door and I follow him out, locking it behind me. Sam seems to have quickly regained his good mood, actively chattering as we walk.

"Come on, Elias, you're my best friend." He whines, his sly smile peeking through his façade.

"Yeah, your best friend, not your wing man. I don't like going out anyway, what makes you think I want to go to a gay club with you?" I remark, my face scrunching in distaste at the mere thought of having to watch my best mate hook up.

"Because I don't want to go on my own, you wouldn't want me there alone would you?" He asks and I roll my eyes.

"You have plenty of other friends." I state monotonously and Sam exhales heavily, watching my face for a sign of something.

"I don't feel comfortable going out like that with them." He says uncomfortably and I glance over, empathising with his discomfort.

"You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself." I reason and he huffs.

"I know that." He mutters but suddenly my mind is working overtime, forming a thousand different awful scenarios, all of them involving Sam in perilous or traumatic situations. Just the thought of Sam on a night out, in a new place, surrounded by people who have one track minds. It's enough to change my mind.

"When do you want to go out?" I ask, pushing open the door to Starbucks with a resigned sigh.

Sam's facial expression morphs into one of complete and utter disbelief and I laugh, pushing him through the door and out of the biting February air. I tug off my scarf and pull it around Sam's neck, noting that his shoulders have been shivering since we walked out of the door.

I wander over to the selection of sandwiches, plucking out a bagel that looks appealing before snatching the last breakfast sandwich for Sam. He's already lingering in the queue, his eyes wandering every few seconds and I join him, handing the guy behind the counter our orders.

"Hey Eli, how are you?" The guy asks and I cringe internally, not understanding how this guy even knows my name.

I half smile and nod, hoping that this response is enough and thankfully it is, as he smiles back. Sam looks irritated and I agree with his expression whole heartedly. Sam orders a drink and I move along to the end of the counter, ducking my head as much as possible in the hopes that Alice doesn't speak to me. It's very difficult to disappear when you're as tall as me however.

A grumpy looking girl hands me a tray with Sam's coffee and our sandwiches and I sigh in relief. Sam guides us over to a free table and I gently place the tray down, Sam's knee jogging the table almost immediately.

"Who was that guy?" Sam asks, grabbing at his snack but his eyes remaining on me.

"I have no idea, a friend of Alice's maybe?" I mumble, shrugging my shoulders but Sam doesn't look satisfied.

"But he knows your name." He reasons and I scoff.

"Sam, I reckon everyone here knows my name. I'm down here at least twice a week picking up your breakfast." I admit. Sam frowns, stuffing his sandwich into his mouth and I decide that eating is a good idea right now.

Sam finishes his coffee in record time, my eyes watching his jerky movements carefully. A shadow in my peripheral vision breaks my concentration and I look up, my face falling immediately as I recognise them.

"Hey Sam and Eli! It's a bit late for breakfast, isn't it?" Alice chirps and I groan internally.

"Brunch." I mutter and she nods happily. Sam initiates conversation easily and I lean back, happy to be free of uncomfortable chatter. They're talking about their classes and I tune out easily, my hands tearing up my bagel into bitesize chunks.

"Oh, before I forget, Eli, this is for you." Alice says, placing the cup in her hands onto the table. I frown at the cup, not understanding what she means and look up at her, puzzled.

"I don't..."

"Oh, I know! It's from Alex, behind the counter." She interrupts, glancing over her shoulder at the guy who's leant against the bar. He's gazing this way and when our eyes meet, he winks. I quickly look away, very uncomfortable to be the centre of attention and Sam thankfully takes over.

"Oh, tell him thank you from us!" He says happily, effectively dismissing her and she nods hesitantly. I glance at the iced coffee, my interrupted sentence coming back to the front of my mind.

"I don't like coffee." I finish quietly, glad that Alice had interrupted the first time as it probably would have made the situation worse. Sam laughs at my expression and props his head into his open palm.

"I know," He states, "But Alex doesn't." He continues, almost bitterly and I smile crookedly at his possessive tone.

The side of the cup has a series of numbers printed on it. I always thought that stuff like this didn't happen in real life, but apparently it does. I sigh and gently push the cup across the table, Sam's face lighting up at the possibility of more caffeine.

"A gift, from me to you." I murmur, trying to be as subtle as possible but Sam apparently doesn't pick up on this.

He plucks up the coffee and makes a show of drinking it, smiling cheekily all the while. I let my head fall into my hands, swearing that today is the last day I try to interact with another human being. I groan quietly into my palms, shaking my head at Sam's broken laughter.

"If you're done, I'd like to leave now. I'm mortified." I grumble and Sam nods, holding my scarf out to me. I roll my eyes and take it, stepping closer to wind it around his neck, tucking it into his jacket. He watches carefully and I smile, patting his shoulder.

"You need it more than I do." I reason. He goes to argue but thinks better of it, stuffing the straw of his stolen drink into his mouth instead. I hold the door open but Sam hesitates, glancing back to the counter before stepping out into the street. I follow him quickly, avoiding awkward eye contact at all costs.

"So, you have yet another admirer." Sam states, watching my reaction and I sigh.

"Should I be offended that they're all male?" I ask and Sam's face contorts.

"No, there's nothing wrong with..."

"I know that idiot, but they don't know my sexuality. They're all making wild assumptions based on rumours. I find that offensive." I interrupt, not wanting to create any more misconceptions between us and he exhales in understanding.

"Oh. Well, then yeah, you're allowed to take offence." He admits and I nod to myself. Nobody has ever asked me about my sexuality, they've just assumed based on crude rumours surrounding Sam and me. I feel offended, but I can't work out if how I feel is justified.

Everyone knows how blunt I am, if they have questions I'd rather they just asked.

"You know, even I don't know." Sam says, interrupting my train of thought and I frown.

"I don't even know your...preferences." Sam clarifies and I feel my frown deepen. Have we really never had that conversation?

"I like who I like, I suppose." I utter, shrugging and Sam scoffs loudly.

"You literally couldn't have come up with a more typical response. So, you identify as, what? Bi? Pan?" He questions eagerly and I shrug.

"Why do I need a label?" I ask and Sam ponders my question.

"I guess it makes it easier for other people." He answers eventually and this time I scoff.

"Yeah, makes it easier for other people to judge me." I finish, fishing out my keys and Sam nods in agreement. I unlock the door and hold the door open, retrieving my keys as Sam enters the flat.

"So, getting back to what's really important," Sam states, a sly smile engulfing his face, "Are you free tonight? Cause we're going out." He finishes, winking at me flamboyantly and I laugh.

_

"I am not wearing those." I state, my voice never firmer and Sam pouts in response.

"But they'll look amazing on you!" He whines, trying to reason with me but I shake my head.

"White jeans? Sam, we're going to a club, do you really think they'll be white by the end of the night?" I ask, arching an eyebrow and his face contorts. He pulls the jeans away from me, clutching them to his form closely and I roll my eyes.

"I'll get you into them one day." He insists and I hum sarcastically, happy to remain in my signature black jeans.

"Go and get ready, would you? Stop pestering me." I groan and he huffs, waltzing out of my room with arms crossed and head held high.

I find a white button up that I thought was long abandoned and shrug it on, pleasantly surprised that it still fits my torso snugly. I try to ignore the fact that it's white as I button it up, my hands quickly moving through my hair and pushing it back slightly. Overall, I'm pleased with the way I look and I honestly cannot be bothered to try any harder. I nudge my feet into my favourite, worn pair of converse and slide my wallet, phone and keys into my pockets.

I pull my arms through my old jacket and lean against the wall of the hall, awaiting Sam's presence. He bounds down the stairs wearing a plaid shirt, dark jeans and his favourite trainers, his whole face beaming in excitement.

"You look great, ready to go?" I ask, nodding towards the door and Sam nods, giving my outfit a once over.

"I've never seen that shirt, is it new?" He asks, still eyeing my chest and I shake my head.

"Found it at the back of my wardrobe, is it too much?" I ask but he shakes his head.

"No, you look great. Thanks for doing this with me, Elias, it really means a lot." He admits and I shrug, following his subtle directions into another part of town.

"It's no problem." I insist and he smiles widely.

We walk into town as it's not far and meander down a side street which I am not acquainted with. The night is buzzing with the energy of youth; music and laughter floating through the air. It's still fairly early for clubs, but not too early that it'll be empty; which Sam insists is the best time.

We come to a stop outside a club which is brightly lit with neon lights. The sign says 'Planet Queer' and I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing. The entire club seems to be space themed and the longer I stare at the décor, the more I fall in love with my surroundings. The cocktails are written on chalk boards; all space themed of course. The dance floor is lit up in greens and blues, the music varying from modern songs to 70's and 80's classics.

On a table, beside the entrance, is an array of different coloured glowsticks. Each colour is labelled differently to indicate the preference of the wearer. Purple indicates that someone is looking for women, whilst green indicates men. Yellow is an indicator for anyone to approach, and red indicates that the individual isn't interested in romantic attention.

Personally, I think the system is wonderful. I grab a green one for Sam and hesitate between yellow and red for myself. In all honesty, I'm not looking for anyone's attention and after the disaster at Starbucks, I'm not taking any chances. I take a deep breath and snatch a red one, winding it round my wrist quickly. I approach Sam and wind his around his wrist.

"What are these?" He asks and I smile.

"Green means you're looking for men, purple means you're interested in women, yellow is anyone." I explain and Sam glances to my wrist, his expression faltering for a split second.

"What does red mean?" He asks.

"That you're not interested." I mumble.

"You're not looking for someone?" He asks and I shrug, frowning to myself.

"Not really, besides, who'd be interested in me when you're available?" I tease and Sam laughs, making his way to the bar. I follow quickly, watching his drink closely as he pays. He downs three shots in seconds, pushing them away and substituting them with a beer.

Sam eyes someone up and down and I nudge him, encouraging him to go over.

"Are you sure?" He asks, finishing his beer all too quickly and I nod.

"Positive." I state, watching him approach the guy intently. I lean against the edge of the bar, thankful that it's not too crowded and try not to pay too much attention to Sam. My eyes flicker to him every now and then, which is why I'm very surprised to find someone beside me.

"Eli! Hi!" I hear, their voice incessantly chirpy and I glance around, looking down and recognising Alana and her girlfriend.

"Oh, hi! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you." I insist and she laughs, dismissing my apology.

"It's no problem, I'm surprised you recognised me." She says and I smile.

"It wasn't that long ago, besides I had more trouble finding you than recognising you." I admit sheepishly and her girlfriend laughs heartily.

"I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Eli." I state, holding out my hand and Alana's girlfriend looks taken aback.

"Oh, I'm Gracie! The taller one of the duo." She clarifies and I smile softly at the introduction.

"Well, it's not my fault I'm vertically challenged!" She cries and I chuckle at her choice of words.

"It's ok, small is universally seen as cute. I have to duck every time I get on the tube." I reason and Alana nods empathetically.

"Is Sam with you or are you...?" She trails off, leaving the question open. I debate whether to tell her that I'm here with Sam, ultimately deciding that Alana and her girlfriend are probably very accepting.

"Yeah, I'm here with Sam." I respond, tilting my head in his direction. Their mouths drop at the sight and I smirk at their expressions.

"Oh! I thought that... I'm sorry, we made assumptions that you two..." Alana mumbles and I shrug, looking over at Sam who is smiling largely.

"A lot of people do." I state and they smile sheepishly.

"So, you're here for moral support?" Her girlfriend questions and I nod reluctantly.

"Can I buy you two a drink?" I ask, feeling less anxious than usual at the thought of socialising.

Alana and her girlfriend share a look that I'm not privy to, but I don't ask. I'm not entirely sure I want to know, but they both nod politely. I wait for their order and relay it to the barman, allowing them to take their drinks themselves.

I pay the bar tender and join them at their little booth. I still have a view of Sam and I'm glad to see he still looks happy and carefree.

"Do you guys come here often?" I ask and Alana nods enthusiastically.

"This is the place we met! We come here all the time, it's so cool and chilled out." She insists and Gracie nods in agreement. My gaze slides back to Sam, my eyes widening fractionally when I can no longer see him. It's nothing to worry about, but it doesn't mean that I won't.

"Is this your first time here?" Gracie asks and I nod.

"Bars and clubs aren't usually my scene but I think this place is really cool." I share, smiling at the coloured lights that reflect off of our exposed skin.

We continue to chatter amiably, a few of their friends joining us after a while. They introduce themselves but for the life of me I can't retain their names. A girl, who I believe is called Jasmine, keeps glancing over but I'm far more concerned about Sam. I haven't seen him in a while and a heavy feeling has long settled in my stomach.

"I'm going to get a drink, I'll be right back." I insist, excusing myself from the group effectively. I wander around the club aimlessly, my eyes scanning for a familiar mop of brown curly hair.

I finally spot his familiar checked shirt, pushed against the wall of the club. The guy he was stood with is against him and I sigh in relief, turning away but my eyes linger. Sam's posture isn't normal, it looks tense and uncomfortable, his hands restraining instead of holding. I frown and push my way through the mass of people, not thinking logically anymore.

Sam's eyes meet mine, widening in a moment with pure relief and he waves me over. I walk over happily now, knowing that my presence is welcomed and try to harness my most threatening look. I come to a stop beside them and the guy looks up, appearing slightly concerned at my expression.

"Get off him." I demand, my voice not leaving room for argument and he shifts, but doesn't move away enough to soothe my irritation. He backs off, holding his hands up and curses under his breath, rolling his eyes.