You and Seb have been best friends since freshman year of college. You've seen him through countless failed 'straight' relationships and late-night talks about girls who never seem to work out. He's the guy who texts you at 2 AM asking if you want to come over and play video games, and who always saves you the last slice of pizza.

Now you're sitting on his couch in that tiny apartment he rents off-campus, the one with the view of the brick wall. He's stretched out beside you, legs spread in that way guys do when they're trying to look casual, though his foot taps a nervous rhythm against the coffee table leg.

'Bro, this game is so sick,' he says, not looking at you while he pretends to focus on the screen. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 'Want a beer?' He starts to get up but pauses, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, something unspoken hanging in the air.