"So are you just gonna stand there all night, Forman, or are you coming in?"
I jump. I didn't know he had seen me there. I lean against the doorframe, laughing nervously. "Uh. Yeah, I . . . I guess I'll come in."
I walk in, standing in the middle of the room awkwardly. Hyde stands up, glancing at me, and I can still smell the pot smoke from earlier. His eyes look a little red; I wonder if he's still coming down. Hell, I wonder if he'll even remember this tomorrow.
"Can I sit?" I ask, breaking his gaze and looking over at the bed. He shrugs. I walk over and he sits down next to me on the cot. It's silent for a moment, the only sound being Mick Jagger's soft croon of "Paint it Black" on the turntable.
It's an uncomfortable silence; something I'm not used to with Hyde. In the moments when we're not talking, we're usually stoned or drunk, too dumbfounded at our soaring, drug-induced alternate reality to care.
But this is very real, and I can feel the silence weighing down on the moment. I'm very aware of the cold cement floor and the thudding of my heartbeat and Hyde's warm hand, so close to mine.
He exhales quietly and turns to face me. "Why are you here, Eric? I thought you said this was a mistake." His words hit me and for a moment, I can't even look at him. As I take a shaky breath and remind myself why I'm here, I slowly place my hand on top of his.
"It is a mistake," I say. Hyde stares at me. I can't breathe. I can't do this.
"But . . . but everybody makes mistakes," I whisper, in the few seconds I have before I close the gap between us, pressing my lips to his for the second time that night.
It's sweet and slow and terrified, almost the opposite of our first kiss, two hours ago. But there's still that desire, that hunger that lets me know that he's wanted this for as long as I have. Hand shaking, I reach up and bury it in his hair as I deepen the kiss, letting the feeling of this surreal moment wash over me.
And all of a sudden, I realize what drove me here, what convinced me to come back to Hyde's room tonight. Everything would be so much easier if I had walked away, if we had blamed it on the weed and never mentioned it again. But sometimes what's easy isn't what's right; it isn't what makes you happy. All I know is that in this moment, I can feel him next to me, holding me, kissing me, and for the first time in my entire life, everything is completely, utterly perfect.
Hyde breaks away from me, smiling. He laughs softly, and I can't help but grin. "Some mistakes are worth it," I say softly, almost to myself.
It's dark in his room, but I still see his eyes, icy blue and glistening. I reach out and touch his face, and he catches my hand, holding it. He looks happier than I've ever seen him. He looks . . . complete. Leaning in, he kisses me softly one more time before settling back into the cot, closing his eyes.
"Definitely worth it."