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It’s been a grueling filming week for reasons that even as CEO he knows are out of his own control. It happens every spring, and it takes them by surprise each and every year.
On Thursday they filmed the “Inflation Station” episode, where they tried fast food snacks and guessed how expensive they might’ve been in yesteryear. Link didn’t eat a single bit of food, and Rhett felt so freaking helpless the entire time. The audience is definitely going to notice that he was spinning out the whole second half of the episode. He lost his dang mind. It’s just, he knows those looks and the easy way Link played it all off. He’s seen it before.
His phone goes off as he approaches the entrance to the warehouse they’ve called home for what feels like forever. Tim says hi as he holds the door, so Rhett hop-steps through it and doesn’t pull his phone out like he really wants to.
When he gets into the office, which is situated toward the middle of the hallway - that way they can keep up with the ebb and flow of creatives on the regular - he realizes he’s alone. Not knowing whether Link’s going to slide in right behind him, he quickly checks his phone and realizes the message is from Christy.
8:12 AM
Mornin’ Boo, wanted to let you know our
boy just left and he is struggling this
week, so please be kind.
8:14 AM
Hi darlin, thanks for the heads up.
Meant to check in yesterday. You
think I can have him tonight?
8:15 AM
Oh I think he’d like that a lot honey.
I’m taking Lando and his friend to a
movie tonight anyway
He smiles at that, the easy way he, Christy, Jessie, and Link have added a litany of pet names to the repertoire, putting into words the way their new arrangement has solidified how they feel about each other. It’s cute that they both now call Link baby… because he is.
They continue to chat about life, how Jessie’s new accountant is working out, the summer plans for the kids because you have to sign up for summer camps and internships months in advance, but Rhett’s brain is mostly occupied elsewhere. He’s already coming up with a plan for the night and figuring out how he can leave work early but also get Link to go with him to the Creative House.
By the time Link walks in 20 minutes later, it’s been decided.
“Hey bo,” Link says as he strolls into the office. After placing his bag into his chair, he makes his way over to where Rhett’s sitting in his own office chair and drops a chaste but sweet kiss on his upturned lips. They linger, just long enough for him to twist a lock of salt and pepper hair around his index finger.
“Hi babe, how was the drive over?” Rhett asks when they separate, his fingers gliding through LInk’s hair as he retreats.
“It was fine, but I wish we’d commuted together,” Link says, crossing his arms over his chest. His grumpiness is thick in his accent.
“Nah, it’s better this way. Turns out I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon and gotta dip out early. I already rescheduled our 3:30 and 4 o’clock meetings.”
“What? No! I was –” Link cuts himself off, biting down on his lip and then just nodding, like maybe he’d really been looking forward to the Friday afternoon writers’ room meeting or something. Breathing slowly in and back out, until he looks calmer, Link tries again. “Did you maybe want to meet at the house after your appointment? If it doesn't go too late?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Rhett smiles over at his… boyfriend? partner? “I was hopin’ we could meet when you’re done with the 4:30 I couldn’t reschedule. Chase needs something important, so you’ll have to cover that one and then I can meet you at the house around 5:30?
“Phew, how long you been here? You got it all figured out, huh?” Link laughs as he lifts his bag into his lap and plops himself onto the chair. Immediately, one leg comes up to tuck behind the other, and he pulls his laptop out of his backpack and connects it to the dock on the desk.
“Little while. I just wanted to get it off our plates so we don’t have to stress.”
“This week has been so stressful.” Already Link’s hand is up by his mouth, playing with his lip and scratching his beard in that nervous sort of habit.
“Right? Whataya think it is?” Rhett asks, trying to be nonchalant about needling Link to tell him what’s on his mind.
“I dunno, man, the final push toward summer is always a lot, you know? Filming schedule, and trying to plan Mythical Summer, make it bigger and better than years past?”
“Yeah, I’m tired. I’m excited for some time off.”
“I’m excited for our week just the two of us in Oregon.” Link finally looks over, his smile crooked from leaning on his hand. “I’ve always wanted to explore up there.”
“You say that like I’ll let you out of bed at all for the week.”
“Well, I’m sure Oregon looks real pretty out a window.” Link winks at him and it feels like butterfly wings flapping against his heart. Rhett keeps thinking he’ll get used to this, but he’s just not sure it’ll ever not be exciting.
Unlike a lot of the last few weeks, the day goes off with very few hitches. They only have the one episode and More to do in the morning, and Link actually eats most of the food, only spitting out the things Rhett would spit out himself. He knows that doesn’t always mean much, that the man is probably still stressed past the point of shrugging it off, but it’s a small sign.
After filming, they regroup in the office to answer emails and get some planning done for the next week. By two, Rhett is itching to get out of there so he can get shopping and prepping. He decides he’s waited long enough when 3:15 rolls around, and gives Link a scratch on the head and a kiss to his temple on the way out of the office.
“See you in a bit. Hey! What doctor do you have to see? Everything okay? I can’t believe I forgot to ask.” Link is looking up at him with a worried look, and Rhett can’t believe he didn’t think to come up with a clever excuse.
“Eye doctor. The PCP is worried I’m gonna end up all blind like you.”
“Ha ha, ya jerk.”
Slipping out the door, Rhett runs to his car and heads off to the grocery store. Normally he’s overwhelmed by the amount of, just, everything at the market, but today he knows exactly what to purchase. A rack of ribs, a fancy barbecue sauce, potatoes, and all the ingredients for collard greens.
Barbecue is their love language, and collard greens cures all, so he doesn’t even question his instinct. The shopping trip is over quickly and he makes it back to the creative house in record time, checking his watch to make sure he’ll have enough time to prep everything before Link shows up.
There’s something soothing about preparing food, especially for loved ones, and Rhett’s mind calms while his hands are busy soaking the greens and marinating the meat.
He never really thought his life could shift so drastically in a little over a year, but life has certainly come a long way since January of ‘22. They were fools to promise each other nothing would change. They knew better. But Link had looked at him with such blind trust that night, and asked - no, begged - to be reassured they could stay as they always had been. Rhett hadn’t been lying, per se, when he promised they would, but he had definitely underestimated how watching Christy handling Link, making him beg, would affect his entire worldview.
The sight had loosened something inside his heart that he’d tucked away a very, very long time ago, and before he knew it Link’s tongue was sliding into his mouth, slick and tasting of the wine from dinner. It was meant to be something chaste. He’d just needed to connect to his friend somehow after the transformation he’d witnessed, but the moment they touched it was already too late.
Rhett couldn’t - wouldn’t - stuff those feelings back into the box they’d been sealed in his whole adult life. He’d also taken one look at the awe on Christy’s face and known that he would never have to.
From that first night it was a slow sort of seduction of both him and Jessie, and this week marks a little more than a year since he and Link took that ultimate plunge. He could still remember the nerves, the hesitation of those first touches without their wives present, and then the overwhelming feeling of lust when Link finally wrapped his hands around Rhett’s waist.
“Anybody home?” Link yells when he comes in the front door. It’s perfect timing really, waking Rhett from his daydream in time to put the lid on the just simmering greens to let them do their thing. The kitchen smells divine and the ribs and chicken look marinated and ready to go on the grill. Christy taught him that if you put the potatoes in the microwave for three minutes, they’ll cook a lot faster on the grill but still get that good blister to the skin, so he’s wrapping the heated potatoes in foil when Link makes his way into the kitchen.
“Hi,” Rhett says, smiling so hard he can feel his cheeks crinkling his eyes.
“Smells good in here,” Link says, smiling back, but there’s also a tension in the hand he’s wrapped around a belt loop. The smile doesn’t quite reach all the way to his eyes.
Before he can settle into a seat by the island, Rhett comes out from his spot by the stove and puts a hand on Link’s shoulder. They’ve developed a sort of ritual around touch, after years of so much regulation around it: Rhett puts a hand on Link’s shoulder and lets it linger; when Link’s ready he puts his hand over Rhett’s and entangles their fingers; then those hands usually drop and Link will slide the other around Rhett’s waist to pull them closer together; finally Rhett will wrap his hand around Link’s shoulders completing the circle.
Once this is initiated, they can take as much or as little contact as they might need. Today, Link lets their fingers untangle and wraps his other arm around Rhett’s middle and clasps his hands together behind his back, which usually means he’s feeling really out of sorts.
“Had a tough week?” Rhett asks, still floored by the easy touches between them. It feels like a new world order, where he can give love and support through physical touch.
“Yeah,” Link says, not elaborating. When Rhett waits it out, he gets more detail. “I’m worried they all know. And they’re all judging us.”
“Whataya mean?” Rhett asks, even though he knows, as he leans down to kiss the crown of Link’s head.
“What if they think the girls aren’t in on it? Or that this is just some tawdry affair? What if they think it’s a phase and we’re ruinin’ our lives? What if they think we’re… nasty?”
“Baby, where’s this comin’ from?”
Link then mumbles some sort of answer into the crook of his shoulder, but Rhett won’t have him hiding so he lets go a little and picks up Link’s head so they can see each other. Link sighs, his whole face falling with the air from his lungs. He tries to step back but neither of them has fully let go, so Rhett slow-dances him over to the island so he can lean against the granite.
“I read the stupid comments on our last video. And then I got curious so I went on Twitter.” He released Rhett to grab the counter behind him, dipping his head, clearly as distressed at his own lack of will power as he is about anything anyone said on the internet. “And I just hate that no matter how hard we try, Rhett. No matter how hard. We will never get to control that narrative. People will always think we’re gross or that we deceived them or that we deceived our wives. ”
Rhett can’t take the pain in his voice, the tremble in his lip, so he reaches out, cupping Link’s jaw between his hands and rubbing careful thumbs along his jawline.
“I know, bo.”
“They won’t understand,” Link whispers finally. Rhett immediately understands. He knows so much of Link’s issues with food are about lack of control.
“They might not,” Rhett whispers, laying gentle kisses on Link’s forehead, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, until Link turns and opens and their tongues find each other in the space they’ve made.
Like it’s second nature, the hands that were gripping so tight to the counter release, like they know their place is, instead, on Rhett’s back. They glide up his spine, sending shocks through his whole nervous system and making him sigh into Link’s mouth. He could stay exactly here all day, but the sound of the pot’s cover jostling pulls him away.
“Hold on, stove’s too high,” Rhett whispers against Link’s mouth. Link nods, sliding his hands slowly from Rhett’s back to his hips and then off. While Rhett bounds over to the stove, because overcooked greens are no one’s favorite, Link grabs a Topo Chico out of the fridge and makes himself comfortable on one of the barstools.
“What else you got planned for this dinner I’m sure Christy told you I needed?” It sounds harsh, but when Rhett turns around to defend himself, Link’s eyes are already brighter.
“Ribs, of course, because we – because I – love you.”
“Never doubted it,” Link says, twirling his sweating bottle of water around on the counter. “Thank you, I think I needed this break more’n I realized.”
They’ve been working, lately, on not apologizing to each other when they’re in need, and it makes Rhett’s heart swell to hear appreciation in Link’s voice instead of self loathing.
“You’re welcome,” Rhett says, smiling so wide he feels like his face might break. “Wanna come outside with me while I grill all this stuff?”
Link hops off the stool and follows Rhett out the sliding glass door and onto the patio. Before they can change topics, Rhett hurries to put the food down on the prep table and turns to Link, wrapping him up once more.
“Hey,” he murmurs into LInk’s ear as he holds onto him, their feet intertwined on the same patio tile. “They don’t have to understand, okay? I need you to know that. That even if we lose the whole fucking business tomorrow, we don’t lose this.”
He makes his face as serious as he can, this close to Link’s, and gets the same in return.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
As though he’s trying to physically receive the words Rhett is saying, Link takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the warm air catching in Rhett’s shirt. “I know you’d never leave me. Even back in high school, gosh when junior year was such a struggle, you never wavered in your love for me. It’s what’s kept me sane for a long time. ”
“Same, you know.” Link gets a look on his face at the response, like maybe he didn’t know that little tidbit, but then it falls again.
“But Rhett. This is our lives. This is our everything. Ya just can’t be that lackadaisical about losin’ everythin’.”
“I’m not, Link, I promise. I’m just tryin’ not to catastrophize.”
“You’ve seen what happens, Rhett. We laughed about people running over cans of Bud Light, but that could happen.” Link lays his head on Rhett’s shoulder and butts his head into his jaw. “Could happen to our dreams.”
“I want to tell you you’re underestimating our fanbase, but honestly, you could be right. Which is why this is still between us, you know?”
“I know, I know. It’s just stressful; you know I don’t keep secrets well!”
Rhett laughs at that, because it’s the absolute truth, but he knows laughing at Link’s pain isn’t really helping.
“I know this is hurting you, and I’m real glad you could tell me. And you’re right, we don’t get to control how this happens, and that sucks, man. But I can’t see anything we can really do one way or another at this particular junction, so why don’t you let me grill these ribs, and we’ll get some real food in our bellies, and then we can try to come up with a game plan. Just in case.”
Link doesn’t respond, but he nods his head against Rhett’s chest and squeezes a little harder before he lets go and pulls a chair from the table to sit in.
They fall into the normal chatter about their lives, the exchanges that are so comfortable to them. They’re unlike the banter of GMM, or even the long winded conversations of Ear Biscuits. This is the kind of comforting babble that is just for the two of them, a language all their own, untouched and untouchable to the outside world.
When the meat reaches temperature and the potatoes are soft to the poke, he plates them on the clean plate underneath to tote them back into the kitchen. Link moves to help, but he motions him to stay put. Tonight, Rhett just wants to take care of this man who means everything to him, and whose anxieties sometimes get to him in ways Rhett will never truly understand.
But he can see him, and he can be there, and maybe that’ll be enough.
Popping the top on two Topo Chicos, he stacks the plates on one arm and grabs the bottlenecks in the other hand. In another life he might’ve been a waiter for how smoothly he manages the walk back to the table. Link’s eyebrows even raise at the service.
“I feel downright spoilt.”
“Good,” Rhett says, laying first a water and then a plate, and stealing a quick kiss before he retreats. “That’s the point.”
Link spins the plate, so the greens are at his 9 o’clock, and then again so they’re at 3, and then he picks up the fork and places it down so it’s perpendicular to the edge of the table.
“Looks good.” Link lets out a breath and bites down on his lip.
“Barbecue is our love language, whether you’re feeling up to eating it or not.”
As though the words have chipped away at a dam, LInk’s eyes mist over but he just laughs and nods, squeezing Rhett’s forearm in a silent thank you.
“I’m actually pretty hungry.” Link says, voice cracking only the slightest bit.
As they dig in, sitting catty-corner to catch the sunset because, in Link’s words, the best part of this whole relationship thing is that we don’t have to always eat across from each other anymore , Rhett sighs out the worries of the entire week before ripping off and devouring his first rib.
“Ohhh, what is the flavor in this barbecue sauce? It’s amazing!” Link is sucking sauce off his fingers in the most unintentionally sexy way, until he notices the heated look on Rhett’s face and purposefully pushes his finger in just a little too far to be polite. Baring his sharp teeth, he bites down on his own finger just slightly, until there’s a white outline on the skin, before letting go and pulling it back out.
Rhett is frozen, rib halfway to his mouth, until Link laughs and pushes at his shoulder to wake him up.
“Oh right. It’s some sort of fig barbecue sauce - lower in added sugar or something. I don’t know, it sounded like something you might like.”
“I do!” Link says, ripping another chunk of meat from the bone. Something about that mouth, the way it can be prudish and angry or slack and inviting, and now is covered in sticky sweet sauce, tongue poking out to catch drops but never getting it clean. The light catches Link’s eyes and they’re alight with mirth as he glances in Rhett’s direction to see whether he’s enjoying himself a fraction as much.
They take their time, falling into silence punctuated by sounds of pleasure at the tastes and smells of the meal Rhett put together.
When it’s well and truly dark outside, and the glasses of wine Rhett eventually poured are lit only by the solar lights adorning the corners of the patio, Link grabs Rhett’s plate, stacks in on top of his own, and moves his chair back to get up.
“Don’t worry about those, I can do it,” Rhett says, leaning his head back to direct the sleepy statement at Link.
The only thing he gets in return is one of those firm squeezes of his shoulder that Link is famous for.
“I got it, bo. You cooked.” The firm hand slides easily off his suddenly looser muscle before the whoosh of the sliding door signals that Link has crossed back inside. He sits, quietly, giving LInk time to get some of the dishes done while he finishes the quarter glass of red that’s left. There is a languid nature to his bones; the outcome of a night of good food and important conversations. He hasn’t forgotten that he promised they’d talk through a plan, but he has more important things to do first.
Link is hunched over the sink, the sleeves of his sweater pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, and Rhett loves the domesticity of it. The ease with which he can picture their home, a life where they live here together with no other responsibilities in the world but each other. Then he remembers that if that were the case they wouldn’t be who they are. They wouldn’t be whole. They need all of it to thrive - the wives and the kids and each other. A perfect constellation of stars, gravities keeping their world in order.
Tonight, however, could still be just for them.
It’s the thought that pings in his brain as he wraps his arms around his partner from behind, dipping down to bury his nose in the softness of Link’s hair. It smells like the clay pomade they’re always promoting, because the weirdo actually uses it. Continuing down, he tastes the sweetness of the skin at the juncture of Link’s neck and shoulder. That spot that makes him jump just a little. Link continues aimlessly scrubbing the pan in the sink while Rhett concentrates on making him forget himself.
“I’m tryin’a do the dishes,” Link whines, all the while tilting his head just a little to give Rhett better access. He takes full advantage, nibbling up and down the patch of exposed skin while grasping Link’s hips and pulling them into the cradle of his body.
“Leave ‘em for later, baby.” Rhett bites Link’s ear as he says it, pulling them so flush together that he considers for a moment whether they could become one being. He giggles at how many times they’ve fit into one pair of pants. How did they not see this coming?
After drying his hands on the dish towel, Link carelessly tosses it over his shoulder and onto the counter only to giggle and turn back to hang it on the oven door. Only then does he take his place back in the loop of Rhett’s arms, wasting no time leaning up to slot their mouths together.
Kissing Link is, if he's brutally honest, easier than kissing Jessie, or even Christy. Because of the height thing, but also because there is something there in the give and take between them that fills in all the holes inside him he didn’t know he had. Link tastes like figs and good red wine and sweet summer days with never-ending warmth.
“Take me to bed?” Link asks, whispering it against Rhett’s lips while he presses their hips together. Neither are particularly hard, but Rhett knows that’ll change the moment they start moving in the right direction.
The house that was supposed to be used for creative endeavors has certainly shifted in its role in the last year - they added a cozy bed with real sheets to a room with real curtains so the boys could have time to themselves outside of just working. It comes in handy tonight as Rhett leads them back into the room and toward the big bed.
He climbs on, scooting all the way up to the pillow-laden headboard, pulling Link along with him until they’re situated on their sides among the pillows.
“I know we put a pin in the planning part of our conversation. You wanna talk about that now?” Rhett smooths his hair down and stacks his hands under his face to show he’s ready to take that leap and think through it.
“No,”
“No?” Rhett asks again, but this time Link is shaking his head against the pillow as he scoots across the duvet before knocking Rhett onto his back and straddling his hips. His kiss is unhurried, but the rhythm of his hips against Rhett’s belies a certain sense of desperation.
“This is better,” Link says, slotting a knee between Rhett’s as he dives in for another kiss. Soon, Link’s long fingers are finding purchase under his shirt, drawing patterns on his hip before sliding up along his chest in a wordless request to take it off. They both lean up so Link can pull Rhett’s t-shirt off, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull his own sweater and undershirt off either.
Laying back down underneath Link’s weight, now skin to skin, he revels in the proximity, bathing in the warmth from Link’s body heat as he hikes a leg around Link’s hip.
“Mm-mm, pants too. I want you nekkid .”
“Oh aren’t we pushy tonight?” Rhett punctuates the question with a light pull of Link’s hair, which makes him grind his hips down mindlessly.
Rolling apart, Rhett pulls the duvet down before discarding his pants and briefs, not bothering to waste time with modesty. Link takes a little longer, giving Rhett time to capture the man under his own weight, pinning his legs open and slotting their bodies together in the most addictive of ways. He steadies himself on his knees so he can look his fill: Link’s shapely hands combing through his hair, broad shoulders and prominent collarbones, down his strong torso to the juts of his hips, his growing erection, and finally his well toned thighs that are now thrown haphazardly over Rhett’s own.
Kissing down Link’s neck toward the center of his chest, he detours to a nipple to bite down quickly, making Link curl his fingers through his hair. It pulls slightly, as a reminder where he is and who he’s with; that Link trusts him with his body, with his physical and emotional safety.
He was willing to be vulnerable today, knowing that Rhett was worried, and that he could find solace in his partner and friend instead of going it alone when he was so worked up. They’ve always had that trust, he never doubted it, and yet it still feels so new - like he can now burrow his way into Link’s bad days as well as his good ones.
Another pull at his hair makes him refocus his energies to the task at hand, trailing his tongue down the line of Link’s sternum to his belly button. He takes a quick bite, leaves a trail of kisses, and by the time he ends up where he’d planned to be, Link is hard and rocking his hips up ever so slightly.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he says before dragging the flat of his tongue up the ridge of Link’s cock. Those headlight eyes do a number on him, with the unwavering hold they have. He gives as good as he gets, keeping his own gaze steady as he opens and allows Link’s cock to slide into his mouth.
“Fuck, Rhett,” Link whispers, fingers tightening once more in his curls.
That’s all he gets, other than panting moans while he puts his all into taking Link apart piece by piece.
“Rhett. Need you.”
“You have me.”
“No, need you.”
“You want me inside you?” Rhett asks, lip nudging Link’s cock as he speaks. The nod he gets in response is undoubtable. Link looks wrecked: hair askew, sweat rolling down his temple, eyes half lidded but still locked on his face. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”
He takes one more hard pull, earning a squeal from the man splayed out on his back before he crowds him up toward the pillows again. Slicking his fingers with the lube from the bedside drawer, Rhett reaches down to get Link ready for him. The breathy groan at that first finger makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.
“Good, bo?”
“Good. So good. I’m ready for you,” Link moans, taking Rhett in a drugging kiss as he bears down on the digits inside him. His body is loose and relaxed, a far cry from how it had felt under Rhett’s careful hands mere hours ago. As though the time shared together has seeped some of that raging anxiety out of him. The only tension that’s ratcheting up now is of a sensual sort, as Link’s leg wraps over his hip, pulling him in while he kisses and bites at Rhett’s mouth.
“Love how you taste,” Rhett whispers, licking into Link’s mouth once more as he adds another slick finger below.
“Love you,” Link responds when he can get his breath back, stealing the words right out of Rhett’s head.
“Love you too. So much.” Then there’s little left to say as Rhett slicks himself up and pushes ever so slowly into Link’s waiting warmth. He gives Link the time to adjust, slipping into their nonverbal communication as Link grabs his shoulder, then pushing forward when the grip loosens and instead his thighs tighten around Rhett’s hips.
The way they make love is often a reflection of their moods, sometimes playful or sensual, aggressive, or even downright angry. Today it’s quiet, calm, because they have nothing more pressing to do but be in each other’s space like this, building something together that’s greater than its parts. Rhett takes his time, hooking a leg in the crook of his arm to get a better angle, all the while keeping them as close as he can, the feeling of Link’s skin on his own like a balm for his senses.
“Close, Rhett, I’m so close,” Link finally whispers, breath hot against his ear as they rock together, fingers intertwined, as close as two souls can get in every way possible.
“I got you, Link, I always got you,” he responds, canting his body so he can reach down, finish what they started what feels like hours ago. He’s lost all track of time, sinking into the rhythm of their heartbeats and bodies moving together.
Link’s muscles pulse around Rhett, pulling a gasp from his lungs as Link’s come pools in the dip of his hip. He leans his head down, pressing it against Link’s shoulder as he’s overcome as well. Pulling out, he adds to the mess on Link’s skin before collapsing next to him, one hand wrapped around the inside of his thigh.
Getting up to grab a wet towel to clean them up, Rhett sees Link’s face light up with curiosity as he dips his fingers into the puddle on his hip, the physical manifestation of the pleasure they give to each other. Watching the scene, his heart grows wings in his chest.
Once they’re clean, Rhett rolls onto the bed, letting Link crawl up and rest a head on his shoulder. Legs intertwining, they quietly relax into the bliss of a night well spent. Rhett’s just nodding off, thinking about whether he should turn the air conditioning colder so they can sleep huddled in the middle of the bed when Link clears his throat. He’s propped on an elbow looking down at Rhett when he opens his eyes.
“I’m sorry I was messy this week,” Link says, looking down at his fingers twirling patterns on Rhett’s chest. “I do still want to talk about everything. Sometime. Figure out how we want to play this, deal with the fallout.”
“Hey,” Rhett whispers, linking his fingers into the Link’s now still ones. “We all have messy weeks. But I still see you. And I still get it, okay? And whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here. You know that, yeah?”
“Yeah, bo. I know.”
“And all the days after, too, yeah?”
“Yeah, I know.” Link nods, still not making eye contact.
“You’re literally stuck with me.” Rhett squints his eyes and purses his lips, making Link giggle.
“Stuck with each other,” Link says, smiling, as he pulls on a lock of Rhett’s hair. When he lowers himself back to the bed, he throws an arm over Rhett’s chest – the kind of move that signals they’re settled here for the long run.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rhett says, brushing Link’s still sweaty hair back and kissing his forehead. “Wouldn’t have you any other way.”
The squeeze around his middle makes him smile, because at least this time Link just might agree.
