Foreman was home when I got home from work, I heard him scamper up the stairs to his bedroom when I slid open the sliding door, which was fine by me, I'd spent the past few days trying to figure out what I'd do when I had to see him again. I'd only been at the store for about four hours today, but I was beat: all of the new inventory came in, a few people called off sick, so the only person left to man the registers, put away stock, and answer dumbass questions until my two o'clock-shifters came in was yours truly. I was too low on weed to spend the rest of the day stoned out of my mind like I'd like to, but I could at least get afternoon-drunk on a few of Red's beers, jerk off, and take a nap. It'd be nice to get some decent sleep for a change.

I'd give anything for Fez to have not told me about the picture, because now it dominated my every thought. Eric fucked someone other than Donna. And that someone was another guy. And the other guy...he made Buddy look like shit in comparison, all muscular, dark even complexion. Not that Foreman was bad looking or anything, but I figured if he was going to be with another guy, it'd be another, well, Foreman. Not whoever this guy was. But I wish I didn't know about any of it. It'd get to the end of the day, and I wouldn't be able to sleep and I'd find myself just...looking at it. Almost studying it. Looking for...something. But I could never find it. Eric's lips turned up at the corners, as if the other guy had said something to make him laugh before clicking the shutter, and the guy, whoever he was, was mirroring it. They seemed so fucking happy. Every time I looked at the picture I felt my breathing get tight in my chest, but I couldn't seem to look away. It was becoming a nightly ritual to study this thing that got dumped in my lap, feeling like a complete asshole the whole time for hiding this from Eric. Not that you could blame him for not wanting to tell me about it.

I cracked the beer as I headed down the stairs to the basement, another in tow under my arm, preparing for a few hours of relaxing boredom, but as I rounded to the corner to my bedroom door, I stopped. It was open. I never left my door open, not in Red's house, not when I had weed to hide. Hurrying inside, the rest of my room didn't look out of the ordinary, the trunk looked untouched, vinyls looked fine, but when I turned to my bed, I saw it. The pillow was moved. Hastily setting down the beers, I tossed the pillow to the floor, feeling under the blankets, looking around on the floor, but I knew it was gone. And I knew who had it.

I could've stayed down there. There was no reason Eric and I ever had to talk about this, he could just know that I knew, and I could live with him knowing. It's not like I would tell anyone about this, it's not like I thought anything less of him for it. I knew this was different than whatever Buddy was to him, whoever this guy was, he was...real. Together, they were real. It could've died with me, right there in the basement. But, blind with panic, I went to find him. Every part of my brain screamed at me to stay where I was, we hadn't had a normal conversation in almost a year, this wasn't the thing to start with, but before I knew it, I was in the kitchen.

""Foreman?" I hesitantly called out. No answer. I rushed to the base of the stairs to the second floor and tried again, but he still didn't respond. Fuck. I started up the stairs, adrenaline in my veins. I didn't know what to say to him, but I wanted him to understand, I wouldn't tell anyone, I'd convince Fez he dreamt it up and keep him quiet, this didn't have to change anything. For the first time since we were still in school, what felt like a decade ago, I was knocking on his bedroom door. "Eric," I tried, with a sharp rap of my knuckles. After there was still no response, I added "please."

The door opened just a crack and I looked him in the eye for the first time since he came home, anger written on his face. "What the fuck do you want, Hyde?"

"I…"

"You went through my shit." He opened the rest of the door, standing fully in front of me, arms crossed.

"I didn't. I swear, I-"

"Well, I hope it was everything you wanted it to be. What a fucking fag am I, right? Bet you're laughing it up like you were with Buddy, huh? What a fucking surpise, Eric Foreman sucks cock? Can't wait to spread it to everyone? I'll be the whole gang knows by now, right?"

"No. Eric, I swear, I wouldn't-"

He got closer to me, our faces now only inches apart. "You've known since I got back, haven't you? That's why you've been such a fucking asshole this whole time, and I only just got the proof back, right? Just wanted me to know how disgusting and sick you think I am?"

I could only look at him, shaking with anger, brown eyes starting to brim with tears, still trying so hard to be strong.

"Fez gave me the picture a few days ago. He said he thought you had pot from Cape Town in your bag that you weren't sharing and he...found it. And I took it from him. He was drunk and freaking out." I put a hand in my hair, nervous and uncomfortable. "And I...just held onto it. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want anyone else to find it and I didn't...I didn't know how to tell you."

The anger started to ebb out of his voice "Only Fez knows?"

I nodded "I...think so. I don't think he's told anyone other than me. Eric…you have to know, I would never..." I struggled to think of what to say next, but he'd already crumpled to his knees.

"Please don't tell anyone. Please, Hyde. I know you hate me, but please don't. Please. I can't...I'm trying so hard not to be...please."

I hadn't seen Eric cry since we were kids. I remember thinking it was so funny and pitiful then, Kelso had melted the face off of one of his GI Joes and Foreman burst into tears at the sight of its' lumpy, burnt-marshmallow face, whining and snotting over some dumb toy. I think that's all I saw in all of my anger, some spoiled, bratty kid who'd cry over a hunk of plastic. I wouldn't let myself cry at something as stupid as that when I was a kid, Edna didn't believe in crying, crying was for soft losers, for snitches. It was easy to be angry with him for not seeing what was going on with me in the background. In that moment, I realized that I've never seen Eric as he was before, not really. Not the way I should have. I cautiously sat next to him.

"I don't hate you."

He scoffed in response, still not looking at me. I turned to face him.

"I don't. Really."

"Bullshit." His eyes burned in his tear-stained face, but he still wouldn't look at me. Without thinking, I grabbed his hand, feeling my own tremble.

"I'm sorry. I don't...know how to explain. It's been hard since you left. A lot happened to me, and you weren't there for it. I know it's not fair, but sometimes….sometimes it just felt like you left me behind. I had the rest of the gang but I...it wasn't the same. I trust you the most. And you were off making this better life that didn't have me in it, and then you came back and it was like nothing...like you hadn't changed. And I felt so different from you."

He finally looked at me then, and relief washed over my body as he gave me a small smile. "Guess you were wrong about that, huh?"

I chuckled, feeling my face flush.

"I missed you so much, Hyde. It was so hard to be there without you. And it was harder to realize that I'm...that I might be...gay...on my own."

I became aware then of his hand still in mine. I should have let go. I should clap him on the shoulder, tell him to buck up, and go back to the basement. Instead, I held on tighter. "Are you...um...gay? What about Donna?"

His face crumpled at her name. "I don't know. I love her, I do. She's the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and so smart and funny. Can...can you be both straight and gay?" He stared at his hand in mine. "I think I might be both."

I could hardly breathe. We both sat there in silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry you felt like I abandoned you." He gave me a soft, sad smile and I felt my face grow hot.

"No, don't be," face flushed, I turned my gaze back to our hands. "It's not your fault. I was being a dick about it."

He shrugged. "I don't regret leaving, I think it was the right choice for me, but I didn't think about anyone else when I made the decision. I knew Red would call me a dumbass, as usual, but it...hurt people. People I love. Donna. My mom." He trailed off then. It was quiet again

"Did you...do you...love that guy?"

I felt him freeze and then sigh. "I don't know. I...think maybe I was starting to. I was afraid that maybe how I felt about him was just...loneliness. Maybe I wasn't really...whatever I am, I was just afraid to be by myself and he was there. And he wanted me. But now we're apart I...miss him. In a lot of the ways I missed you when I was there."

I raised my gaze to his, neither of us speaking. He missed that guy...in the same way he missed me. I still held his hand in mine, and I felt that feeling building up again, the same one I'd felt in the garage when I wrestled him to the ground, how close we were, how flushed and warm his skin was. My heart raced. The last time I felt like this was with…

Jackie.

"Hyde?" Eric asked, his tone confused. I moved in closer to him. "What's-" I cupped his face in my hand and he quieted.

"I…" I couldn't find the words. He wasn't looking away. I brushed my thumb on the length of his cheek, heart pounding in my chest at how smooth and soft it was, free of the stubble he had when he first came back home, all things I wasn't expecting to feel, which made my own skin light like a livewire. I climbed on top of him then, our faces closer than they'd ever been, closer even then in the garage, and pressed my lips to his.

For a moment, he didn't react, and I went to pull away, mind racing with possible excuses. But then I felt his hands in my hair, lips hungrily pressing into mine. A moan of relief, I held the back of his head in mine, kissing him furiously. What was I doing? I liked girls! What the fuck was I doing with Eric Foreman?! But it didn't feel wrong. It felt like exactly where I was supposed to be.

But this isn't who I was. And that's when I pulled away. Our eyes locked, and I saw Foreman's lips, red and puckered, his cheeks irritated from my beard.

"Oh god," was all I could think to say.

"What the FUCK, Hyde?!" Eric wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, looking at me like I'd just sucker punched him. He shoved me off of him, scrambling to his feet, but I was frozen to the floor. "Stay the fuck away from me. Don't fucking talk to me again."

Numbly, I watched him storm into his room, slamming the door behind him. I could still feel the press of his lips on mine, and I absently touched them with my hand, as if to keep the memory of them there. Mind racing, I noticed my long-forgotten beer still next to me in the hallway, and with a shaky hand, cracked it open and took a long swig.

"Fuck."