You’ve suspected for a long time that Eddie and Rich were more than friends, by the way they look at each other, the laughter behind a locked door. Now, one day, you come home to find them caught by your sneaking footsteps in a naked embrace. In no acid trip could you imagine how hot and dirty they would look, their flesh pressed together, lips in a kiss. Small differences in the size of certain muscles, tans, and body hair—makes them individual, but sculptural at the same time. You feel no jealousy, only raging hormones, until they kiss again and exchange their love in words. Silently, you slide out the door. You come back slowly and loudly, finding them clothed and far apart on the couch—but breathless.