Our first date consisted of our favourite food, our favourite music and my favourite person. We talked into the early hours of the morning, laughing when we both had to curl under the picnic blanket because neither of us wanted to go home just yet. We played on the swings and I felt like I was nine years old all over again, watching my best friend who could always run a little faster and swing a little higher, but I never cared because everything we did, we did together.

I walked Sam home, as any chivalrous gent would and left him blushing with a kiss on the cheek. I swear that Camila was watching the whole thing with bated breath from behind her translucent curtains, but who am I to judge.

And now I'm being bombarded with texts from the spy herself, demanding to know when I'm going to take Sam out again because he came home radiating the most 'dazzling smile and candy floss blush' Camila's ever seen.

I pack my clothes into my bag and give my dad a quick hug goodbye.

"Thanks for everything dad, this weekend was great. I'll see you soon, okay?" I murmur and he nods happily.

"No problem, Elias. I'm glad it went well." He says softly and I leave it there, because I know if I stay any longer things might get emotional. So, I flee.

I make my way across the street and knock on the Rivera door, smiling to myself as I hear footsteps clattering towards the door.

"Eli! Come in, come in." Camila says, ushering me in. I can hear Sam's voice from the kitchen and it sounds as though he's arguing with his sisters which is unusual for him. Usually he dotes on them.

"Why don't you believe me?" He demands as one of his sisters' scoffs.

"Because you're obviously making it up!" Victoria says smugly as I awkwardly enter the kitchen. Sam's eyes widen in pure relief at the sight of me.

"Quick, let's go." He mutters, grabbing his bag and Victoria smirks victoriously.

"Prove it then, Sam." She dares and I quirk an eyebrow.

"Prove what?" I ask, peering at Sam who looks positively peeved.

"I don't have to prove anything to the little brat." He mutters.

"Sam says you're together." Victoria speaks up, her tone a little less brash now that she's addressing me and I smile widely, chuckling at Sam's thunderous expression.

"Ha! See, I knew you were fibbing." Vicky says as Emma strolls into the kitchen. Sam groans helplessly, his head flopping into the crook of my neck. I wind my arm around him, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Sam's not lying." I say simply, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he looks up.

The twins stare at us for a moment, their mouths hanging open slightly as they observe us.

"So, if that's all, we really have a train to catch?" I murmur, glancing at my watch. Victoria doesn't move but Emma nods minutely. I call out a goodbye to Camila who's roaming upstairs and she coos back.

"Come on, quick. I can barely put up with your crazy, let alone four of you." I say quietly and Sam laughs, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers.

"You are so very sneaky, Elias. Utterly charming but very sneaky. Makes me wonder how good you are at pretending to like people." Sam ponders, voicing his thoughts aloud as we make our way to the station.

"I'm a professional. I can count the people I genuinely like on one hand." I say, flashing my cast covered hand at him. Sam laughs, swinging our interlocked hands.

"We can get these taken off on Friday, the doctor called the other day." Sam tells me, gesturing to the casts and I grin at the prospect of having two fully functioning hands again.

"All the things I can do with both my hands." I say dreamily and Sam raises a devilish eyebrow.

"What kind of things?" He asks, wiggling his brows suggestively. I decide to humour him.

"Typing properly, showering without a plastic bag, jacking off, playing piano again." I list and Sam splutters as he registers what I said.

"Elias! You can't just...! I didn't think you'd actually say it!" He stutters, his cheeks a bright shade of red as he shakes his head.

"People often think that, but I was joking," I assure as Sam laughs softly.

"Besides, I'm left handed." I add, waving my cast-encompassed right hand at him with a mischievous grin. Sam bursts out laughing, dropping my left hand as he feigns disgust.

"You're a fool, you know that, right?" He says fondly, shaking his head at me and I grin.

"Yeah, I know."

A lovesick fool.

_

We get our casts off sooner than expected and life as we know it returns to normal. Well, our new normal.

I wake up, I either make or buy breakfast for Sam and we eat together in a fond sleepy silence. I then walk Sam to his lectures, run to my own and we eat lunch together afterwards. I then walk Sam to his afternoon lectures, run to my own and then we walk home. Every Monday and Wednesday are hockey practice, our games on the weekends.

Our evenings consist of me making dinner and watching a film from our extensive collection. I had planned on taking Sam on another date as soon as humanly possible, but the amount of work we are being assigned suddenly increased tenfold, seemingly overnight.

I am loving every moment with Sam, every hesitant touch and every delicate moment that we share. Sam, on the other hand, seems antsy. He moves away from me when I sit next to him, as if trying to retain space between us and he's been quiet, far too quiet for Sam.

It's finally warm enough for us to return to our spot by the tree, the one that Sam fell out of months ago when I finally decide that I've had enough of his surly, silent attitude.

"Okay, what's wrong?" I ask, watching carefully as he glances over, feigning confusion at my question.

"What do you mean?" He asks, leaning back on his elbows as he stretches out on the grass.

"You've been acting strangely all week. You're quiet and distant." I explain. His face falls slightly, as though he didn't think I'd notice his abnormal behaviour. He sighs heavily, looking away from me as he watches the wind rustle the leaves of the tree.

His expression hardens in determination as his eyes flick back to rest on my face.

"Are you ever going to kiss me?" He asks boldly, his cheeks far less pink than I'd expect. He looks offended, but the idea that I wouldn't want to kiss him is hysterical.

"If you're so damn impatient, why don't you kiss me?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow as he blushes crimson. There it is.

He looks down, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. When he eventually meets my gaze again I find my amusement drains away at the tortured look that I find in his eyes.

"Elias, this is something that I've been thinking about since we were like thirteen years old. I can't just kiss you...I don't know how. I mean obviously I know how to...but not with you, you're not just anyone else. You're Elias Grey; Eli, the guy I've been crazy about for years." He explains, his voice strained as his eyes wander away from mine in embarrassment.

I pull his chin back towards me, leaning closer to him.

"I want to, of course I do. How could I not?" I assure him, his eyes searching mine.

"Then what are you waiting for?" He breathes.

I wonder exactly that. What am I waiting for? I want to kiss Sam, I have wanted to do just that for weeks but I refrained. I convinced myself that I was waiting for the right moment, a sign from Sam telling me that he wants this just as much as I do. Maybe the perfect moment just doesn't exist, maybe we make the perfect moments?

I come to a resolute answer as my eyes flick to his lips.

Nothing. I'm waiting for nothing.

I brush my fingers along his jaw, my hand coming to rest at the back of his head. I cradle it gently, finding that I don't need to encourage Sam to close the distance as we meet halfway.

I press my lips against his, my fingers tangling in his hair as his hand comes to rest on my lower back. Our lips move slowly but surely, a warm thrill igniting my body. I smile against his lips, not quite ready to give up this feeling and I feel him return it. My heart is racing in my chest, adrenalin coursing through me like electricity.

Sam's hand is clenched around my shirt as we break apart. His smile is wider than I've ever seen it, his eyes glittering in the sunlight and I'm certain that he's never been more beautiful. A perfect moment.

His eyes are glazed over with a dazed expression on his face and I chuckle lowly, dipping my head to kiss him just once more. His lips are so sweet and warm, so strangely familiar against mine, like they're supposed to fit together.

I'm not entirely sure I'll ever stop kissing him now that I've started.

"Did I live up to your fantasy?" I ask cheekily, watching his blush only grow stronger.

"No one should be able to kiss that well." Sam breathes, his eyes roaming my face with a tender expression. It soon turns into one of suspicion though, his mind clearly leaping to presumptions.

"Why do you kiss that well?" He demands and I laugh, already very familiar with the jealous side of Sam.

"If I had ever kissed anyone else, you'd already know about it." I remind but apparently this isn't good enough for him.

"You've just stolen my first kiss." I state accusingly.

"I didn't steal a thing, you kissed me." He retorts and I roll my eyes. I go to pull away when Sam's hands wind around my neck, effectively bringing me closer. He initiates this kiss and I more than happily comply with his desire.

When we break apart again I find that he's once again left me breathless. I lean my weight onto one hand, my other hand travelling down his arm and resting on the leather bracelet that encircles his wrist.

"I'm glad you're not waiting anymore." Sam mumbles, watching my hand fiddle with the leather strands.

"I can't for the life of me remember why I ever did."