#another man playing with link's hair and it's NOT rhett???

[jula483]

"the wings" 🥺

[asherlockstudy]

LMAOO!! ok I'm not gonna spoil the R&L video but plspls if you watch it tell us what you think!!

OKAY I have watched it twice now. It is obviously another symbolic work but the first time I was so dumbfounded by all the weirdness that I got like only a couple of symbolisms. The second watch was more fruitful. So let's get to it!

The Brown Diamond

First of all, the moment we got the title and the teaser I knew this would have potty humour and that, also, it would be about anal again.

The standing doggystyle in the beginning is fun but does not have a significance in the story. However, since the title is "The Quest for the Brown Diamond" it might be an attempt to create a subconscious connection between the two.

It is interesting that the very next scene sort of subverts the expectations formed from the previous one: Rhett is a very awkward and reserved, shy, gentle, intelligent man with many phobias, Horst, whereas Link is Sandy, a loud, crude, angry but good hearted man, with an established interest in women. They seem like total opposites of the characters they play, however there is truth hidden in them i.e Rhett is an introvert and he can be gentle and intelligent and Link can be angry and loud despite being a good person. I don't understand what was exactly the concept behind making the characters diverge so much from Rhett and Link in other aspects. Perhaps it was a red herring.

Whatever they said in the end, there is no more genuine statement of affection than "You look weird as hell...... but you always do".

Horst says he has this hair to have a form of natural shield and this might give as a hint as to why Rhett's character has so many phobias and puts up so many defenses; maybe it's about all the things he considered sinful and unacceptable when he was still in the faith.

The whole quest to essentially steal the diamond is Sandy's initiative and passion, while Horst simply follows because that's what he does, he follows Sandy. This might explain Sandy's assertiveness; by every allegorical work of theirs we have seen before it is implied again and again that Link (perhaps counterintuitively) was actually the pursuer of their relationship. Don't forget Carney in Friday's GMMore freaking saying that Link was Romeo between the two, whom Stevie had just described as an extrovert who pursued his relationship with Juliet! And that was the last episode before this video! Isn't all this...WILD? This also suggests that at this point a lot of the crew members know.

Horst opens tentantively the door and Sandy sarcastically says: "Look, Horst contributing already to the project!". They get in the mansion, where Sandy decides to rub himself on every single surface while Horst watches scandalized. The one time poor Horst tries to mimic Sandy, he realises he was trying to rub on a cherub which obviously kills his mood again. So this is likely about how much Link had to "throw himself out there" to make this work and how hesitant and scared Rhett was in the beginning.

By the way

Of course.

This gives me Rhett mixing his words flashback and saying "Link McLaughlin". Except this here is intentional. Then again someone could say best friends and branded business partners could do that too. However, with all the other stuff here, we can suspect this is not that simple of a case.

Horst pumps them both up with energizing food for the quest and it might be associated with the whole theme of the puzzle video, where it was implied they needed some... assistance in their first times. Sandy has to eat some seaweed, an experience he describes as "cunnilungus with the ocean" and Horst eats a sausage wrapped in bologna, which is the point where he breaks character a little, as Rhett apparently finds this too amusing! This all means that the energizing food scene though is heavily sex-coded.

After a straightTM moment, when Sandy builds up the courage to ask his ex-stepson (Tanner? Tunner?) if his mom still thinks about him, he starts looking for the diamond. He mentions he was looking at his Nana's drawers when he was young but then he asks this to be cut from the film as he doesn't want people to think that about him, which means this too is suspicious and in this case it probably implies he was exploring his feminine side. Ironically, this was also mentioned in the last GMMore, when Link asked for a few more years before he starts dressing like Miss Pingy...!

Meanwhile, Horst doesn't look for the diamond but gives as an empathetic, admiring, caring and loving description of Sandy. Yes, Sandy is frantic, angry, a brute but Horst sees through him and understands why he is the way he is. Sandy's childhood is similar to Link's to some extent.

Sandy follows and gives a shorter but emotional description of Horst: he stands out, he is a little weird but he is good and smart. Sandy also establishes he is protective of him and warns the stepson to not hurt Horst.

AND THEN OF COURSE THEY BROUGHT UP THE PUZZLE ARRYFFUJBIOGD Sandy even has a tattoo of the notorious puzzle piece, while Horst keeps it in his bracelet of things he fears and loves. (If you don't know what the deal with the puzzle is please read this).

Horst finds a guitar and starts playing a sweet song... so sweet that it is literally called

Sandy, much like real Link every time Rhett sings and plays music, stops his frantic search and listens hypnotized to Horst's playing. He joins him by the fireplace and they sing together. It is very sweet, very domestic. When the song ends, the silence between them is heavy and uncomfortable but full of warmth. Sandy asks Horst how he is feeling and Horst admits he is still scared. Sandy, pensive but respectful, decides that they should go, as apparently this whole thing isn't working out for them. He expresses regret for dragging Horst into this.

But, lo and behold! At the last moment, Horst finds a secret door and is suddenly the more excited one who reminds Sandy of their quest. In this secret room, they find a video recorded by the deceased owner of the mansion and the diamond, who gives instructions on how to get the diamond. The quest is bound to a riddle and this riddle IS THIS ONE:

To be shared between three, the heart must not be free but the damage is done if the heart is given to one.

Get it? If you have to give your heart to other two, your heart is not free, but then again when the heart is given to THE one only, that's when shit hits the fan (well literally in this video).

Can you believe it? Can you believe this is the story of these apparently extremely romantic middle-aged Southern youtubers?

The heart, the diamond, is of course inside Bahau moon, a three-ass artifact. Reminds of "the way to a woman's heart is through a worm's / woman's anus".

Sandy and Horst hear noises from upstairs and it appears Brandy, Horst's best friend at work, was trying to steal the diamond before them. And that is because Horst told her their secret as “he tells her everything”. What does Brandy symbolizes? Horst loves her a lot as a friend and keeps no secrets from her, Sandy is antagonistic to her. Sandy gets his hand in this ass first and competes with her for the diamond. Horst follows hesitantly again. They realise neither can win over the heart and all be happy. So Horst implores them to all lay off the heart diamond. In fact, Sandy has grabbed the heart and agrees to let it go only if Brandy promises to also not stick her hand to the ass again. Sorry for suggesting this...but can Brandy be a wife, like Jessie? Once they are all out of the Bahau moon and safe, Horst realises that his "phobias and loves" bracelet is dropped inside the artifact. He begs the other two to get inside the Bahau moon once more so he can retreive his bracelet. This might be associated to Rhett always having this pattern that he wants this to stop, to prevent it but then he is the one falling back to it (check Hazel where he tries to save Link but then Hazel takes him first and in the dig-a-hole video where he pulls Link out of his enjoyment only to later suggest a larger hole than Link did and drive the excavator himself). Horst really begs Brandy, tells her to do it for the sake of their “old good memories” together. This whole thing reminds me of that time Rhett was bringing up a lot that his marriage had gone through a milestone, that he and Jessie had had a very big and serious talk that changed but also supposedly “strengthened” their marriage. And then once Link let it slip that he was present during that serious talk of the couple, which one would expect would have happened privately.

Brandy betrays them, takes the brown diamond and leaves them. The Bahau moon starts releasing toxic gas. Sandy tells the camera man to save himself. The camera man still records Sandy and Horst's last moments from outside the window. As they are dying, they hold hands with their still free hand. Sandy asks forgiveness for everything but Horst does not hold anything against him. Before he takes his last breath, Sandy tells Horst he loves him. They die there, trapped forever. This ending resembles Hazel a lot, where they disappear forever in Hazel's forest. In Hazel, Link was also trying to tell Rhett he loves him before what he thought would be their last moments.

This gives the riddle another dimension, because in the end Sandy and Horst remain with their One, meaning each other, also stressed by the love confession, and this kills them. It is perhaps suggested that Brandy (a wife?) got her heart back and went on with her life, while they can't do the same. They stay trapped with the love that kills them.

And here's another ANON I got, I hope they read it cause I am answering here:

Thanks a lot for telling me!!! Yes it doesn't surprise me one bit. The ending is supposed to have that despair and melancholy of always staying trapped, hidden. Just like Hazel. Very interesting that it was braver before the cuts. Perhaps they thought it would make it too obvious? But, too little is obvious for A LOT of their fans, right? I also don't understand, do they actually want people to pick up on it after all, or not? They confuse me so much.

Unless the few of us still imagine all that stuff lol never in my life before have I seen friends act like that but the funniest thing is that I haven't seen people in love act like that either! Will we get an autobiography from them in the distant future, I wonder? Because we should.

[cellard0ors]

An indulgent idea - some times I write things for me. And share them with others for funsies! Warning for sexy times & set in world with established Rhink/No Wives AU

Relaxing Peace

It seems like such a silly thing.

A strange idea.

In his youth, Rhett would have completely scoffed at the idea. Rejected it as 'girly' or something else ridiculously ignorant. Ah, the arrogance and foolishness of youth.

Now, as a grown and vastly more educated man, he still gave it a little bit of the side eye, but recognized how it might have it's merits. Especially since Link was so on board with the idea.

In fact, he'd been the one to approach Rhett about it. Normally Link was the one stressed beyond capacity, but lately Rhett has been the one feeling the brunt of the daily grind.

So Link pulled him aside and suggested this. Suggested the bathroom lit only by candlelight, the soft sounds of music streaming from a little speaker on the porcelain counter near the sink.

Rhett rests in the bathtub, the scents of sandalwood and lavender rising from the sudsy bubbles covering his nudity. His legs hang out a little awkwardly above the rim of the tub, but the air greeting his bare skin is pleasantly humid.

Link sits to one side of him and raises a glass flute and a green bottle, "Champagne, sir?"

Rhett chuckles and rolls his eyes before sighing, "Why not?"

Link pours the drink and hands it to Rhett who takes a sip. It's delightfully cool and crisp, with just a hint of apple and he lets out a surprised him, "Not normally a fan, but this is pretty good."

"Josh," Link says simply and Rhett grins, repeating their friend's name, because of course Josh would be able to recommend a champagne that actually tastes good.

Rhett eases more into the water, the temperature of it and the alcohol flowing through his veins helping to ease his tension. Link, for his part, puts the bottle aside and pulls out a pretty pitcher, "You about ready?"

Rhett just hums again as Link goes to the tap and fills the pitcher. He comes back and asks in a hushed tone for Rhett to lean his head back.

Then he proceeds to grab a bottle of shampoo and pours it into his hands, coating them well before letting his fingers descend into Rhett's mop of wild hair.

He does as asked and Link pours the pitcher of warm water over Rhett's hair, right along where his hairline starts. It cascades downwards, soaking the curls, but Link makes sure to pour a second pitcherfull just to make sure it's nice and wet.

Rhett restrains a moan of sheer pleasure at the sensation of Link massaging his scalp, working with ease through the thick strands. Whatever shampoo he's using smells delightful, but Rhett can't narrow it down to anything in particular.

He could ask, but he's too busy just enjoying every minute of this. The fantastic sensation of someone just playing with his hair...no, actually, the fact it's Link playing with his hair makes it far better than if it was just anyone.

Link pays such good attention to every curl, to his entire skull, thumbs and fingertips pressing with the perfect amount of force, working up a rich lather that extends entirely throughout the mass of Rhett's leonine hair.

Softly Link says he's going to rinse it away and Rhett makes an even softer sound of assent, the feeling of warm water easing away ticklish bubbles and rolling idly along the back of his neck and the top of his spine deliriously good.

He can hear Link grabbing another bottle, smell a new wonderful scent as conditioner is worked in now and a very tiny part of Rhett's mind worries for half a second that he might pass out from pure relaxation.

Every single part of him feels at ease, feels...floaty. Floaty and nice and then there's a rush of water again, the conditioner being rinsed out just as easily as the shampoo and he's pretty sure he's mere inches from sinking beneath the water.

With each passing moment he's been dropping further and further into the tub's inviting water, the pleasing fragrances, the tempting warmth, the music and lighting and entire atmosphere simply...

...and then there's a hand coasting deftly beneath the surface tension of water to find, well, him. The most intimate part of his anatomy and his eyes snap open to see Link has maneuvered his seat some, come to a spot where he can dip one hand down and take a tender grip on his very unaroused dick.

"Uhhh, Link?"

"Shh," Link hushes, "Just relax."

"Re-?" Rhett can't help but repeat - part laugh, part shock, "How can I relax when-?"

A confused grunt bottles in Rhett's throat and while part of him wants to talk, a much bigger part of him does not. Link suggested the bath, suggested washing Rhett's hair, all as a method of selfcare. Rhett wasn't expecting this kind of selfcare too.

Link's hand runs over his entire length, then dips lower to cup his sack, giving it a very gentle squeeze and Rhett groans because, okay, his dick had been unaroused, but it's perking up to life now at Link's attention.

More so at the husky quality of his voice as he speaks, "Just feel, baby."

But as Link's very sure palm and dexterous fingers work over him, Rhett finds the idea of it more and more appealing. He goes from flaccid to hard at an almost alarming rate - at least Rhett considers this might be the case for someone his age - after all, he's not a teenager anymore.

Albeit he feels like one as Link proceeds with one of the best handjobs Rhett can recall receiving in...well, probably since the last time Link gave him one. There's something about how the man handles his body that's neigh mystical.

The way he knows how to work the pad of his thumb right beneath the plush head, to the way he can smooth his touch back down and under, pressing the sensitive spot just beneath Rhett's balls and Rhett can't stop his hips from moving, can't keep himself from moaning wantonly as his eyes go liquid with lust.

He looks through heavy lids to see Link looking so...determined. Jaw attractively set as he works Rhett as one might work at a very meticulous task or a music instrument or-!

"Gosh...bo..." Rhett tips his head back, gulping air as his nerves alight with ecstasy. Link smirks, "Good?"

Rhett wants to wipe that smirk right off his face. He wants to grab Link (who is fully clothed) and drag him right into the tub, soak him - own him - just-!

"Nu uh," Link keeps his eyes locked with Rhett's, as if reading his mind, "This ain't about me, honey. It's about you. Now come on..."

The speed of his strokes pick up and Rhett knows he's not going to last much longer. Not with the way Link's touching him, looking at him, speaking to him and Link- still managing to keep a fantastic grip on him - manages to ease close enough to run the very tip of his nose along Rhett's jaw, the side of his face - and when Rhett feels just the barest scratch of stubble and Link's wet lips, he loses it completely, crying out as he cums.

He can feel his cock jerking in Link's grip, can feel his whole body tighten - balls, toes, scalp - as he falls over the edge again and again. His salty release mixes with the other scents of the room, intoxicating and naughty and he feels entirely boneless as he finally succumbs, all his stress released.

Link eases back, running his hands through the water before withdrawing them and wiping them off on a nearby towel. He looks so stupidly pleased with himself as he asks cheekily, "Feel better?"

Rhett wants to say that now he's dirty again. He wants to say he'll only really feel good when they switch places. He wants to say a lot of things, but all he can manage is a nod and Link looks so happy - honestly - that Rhett doesn't mind holding his tongue.

A happy Link? Now that - that is what truly brings him pleasure.

That's what truly brings him peace.

[lallyloo]

Jealousy

(So @imincognitohere and I were talking about EB recs, and porn, and how Link’s entire porn collection would consist of a dark haired guy with glasses and a John Mayer lookalike. Then we imagined Rhett finding Link’s JM porn collection and crying, and then just railing Link. And now we’re here.)

*

He’s not really supposed to be on Link’s laptop, but Link’s running behind and Rhett really needs the May 2022 Ear Biscuits schedule now.

He silently curses himself for not keeping the schedule on his own laptop, or even his phone, but Link’s the one who types during planning sessions and they’re always together, so it’s never mattered before.

But today Link’s stuck in traffic on the way to the creative house, and Stevie’s trying to book their first guest in nearly two years, and Rhett needs the info now.

And they have each other’s passwords for this very reason.

So Rhett waits for the sign-in screen to appear, and he types Link’s password.

RaisinCRUNCH1984!

And he’s in.

 The desktop is just a line of neatly organized folders against a backdrop of some douche playing guitar.

Rhett stares at the douche for a second.

He knows his name is John Mayer.

But in Rhett’s mind he’s just ‘douche’.

Link’s crazy about his music but Rhett’s not, and the guy seems like a tool anyway.

And why does Link need him on his desktop? Why not Christy? Or the kids? Or hell, why not him and Rhett? Would that be too much? No.

And sure, Rhett’s desktop is a silhouetted photo of himself in Death Valley, but that’s neither here nor there. It was a great trip, and it’s a great photo, and it’s not just some random musician guy.

Rhett tears his gaze away from the background and scans the labels on the desktop folders, stopping when his eyes hit one called ‘May’. It seems to be the most obvious choice, likely full of schedule info, brainstorming, personal appointment times, etc.

To Rhett’s surprise, the files inside seem to have much more random names than the desktop folders.

It doesn’t seem like Link at all, and Rhett is a bit flummoxed as he reads down the list of random letters and numbers jumbled together.

He settles on a file called 324_eB_32_MMdrmfanta.

He’s in such a hurry he doesn’t pay attention to the file type, and Rhett realizes it’s a mistake as soon as he clicks it.

It’s not a list of dates or information. It’s not a schedule.

It’s a video.

And it looks like porn.

There’s a room. An office maybe? The camera pans and there’s a desk and a chair and a window.. and a bed. Yep, it’s porn.

The camera pans to socked feet, and up bare legs, over a little red speedo, to a bare chest, up to the face of someone who looks a bit like a younger Link.

Dark hair, blue eyes, glasses.

There’s a knocking sound in the video, someone at the door, and Rhett is curious to see who might walk in. It’ll be a blonde woman, he assumes. A Christy lookalike.

“Link you dirty dog..”

He’s invested now, curious to see what kind of fantasies Link is into. He knows Link and Christy’s relationship has its ups and downs, and Link’s blue balls have been an ongoing joke for years, and maybe he’s invading their privacy a bit by watching this video.. But it’s not actually Link and Christy. It’s just porn. Just a fantasy Link has. And they’ve talked about fantasies before. Hell, Rhett told him about the first time he ever jerked off. Watching a little porn video is nothing.

The guy with the glasses heads for the door and Rhett is enraptured as the scene unfolds – slipping off the chain lock, a hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. Rhett wonders what the woman’s going to be wearing. What she’s going to say. What they’re going to do. How they’re going to fuck.

On screen, the door opens and Rhett pulls back a bit, surprised, when he realizes there’s a man on the other side of it. Another brunette, with longer hair – not as long as Rhett’s, but longer than Link’s. And flowy. The guy’s kinda pretty.

Huh. Maybe it’s a threesome video? Two guys and a girl? The guy with the glasses looks surprised but pleased, and Rhett stares at the screen, wondering when the girl will show up.

The other guy says something Rhett doesn’t register, and then he steps into the room, wraps the glasses guy up in his arms, and shoves his tongue down his throat.

The unmistakable sound of a porn sax overdub echoes through Link’s office, and Rhett pulls himself out of it. He clicks through the video, skipping ahead, his eyes growing wide as he gets quick glimpses of erections, blow jobs, sloppy kisses, a finger in a butthole, AND IS THAT HIS TONGUE?? And fucking, so much fucking, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Rhett skips to the end to see the long-haired guy trailing his tongue over the glasses guy’s dick, licking up every messy drop of cum.

And. Oh.

The girl never showed up.

Rhett closes the video.

So Link watches porn. Gay porn.

And he’s never told him.

Rhett can’t help but feel a little confused. And a little jealous.

Why hasn’t Link told him? Why haven’t they talked about it?

Does Link like guys?

Rhett’s never been into guys. Not once, like ever.

Well, sure, he’s thought about Link once in awhile. What it might be like to touch him. Kiss him. Maybe more.

But that doesn’t count. Because it’s Link.

It’s Link!

Rhett’s not into guys. Link doesn���t count.

And if Link is into guys he clearly doesn’t want to tell Rhett yet. And that’s fine.

Isn’t it?

Rhett is a little hurt, but he’s alright with letting Link tell him in his own time. That’s what best friends are for. They’re cool and they’re understanding and they’re patient. And Rhett is all of those things.

He closes the folder, and his eyes fall to the desktop again.

To that douche.

With the familiar face.

Why does he suddenly seem so familiar?

Rhett stares at him for a moment and his blood runs cold.

The video.

The guy at the door with the stupid floppy hair.

Rhett quickly opens the folder again, choosing another file at random.

Cheesy porn music starts and Rhett watches another slightly geeky dark-haired guy with glasses flirt with a dark-haired flop. Rhett skips ahead quickly. There are blowjobs, and the flop is lifting the cute geeky guy, kissing him, spreading his cheeks as the glasses guy gasps–

Rhett closes that video, and clicks another one, and moans fill Link’s office as the video starts right in the middle of a fucking scene. Two guys. Another cute eyeglassed guy with dark hair, and some long-haired jerk. As Rhett watches, he catches sight of a guitar in the background and his face burns hot.

“Rhett?”

Rhett fumbles with the laptop, slamming it closed, but the video keeps playing and the moans of two guys echo through the room as Rhett turns towards the door.

“Link!”

Link looks furious.

“Dude, what’re you doing??”

“I was just looking for– ”

“You’re snooping on my laptop??” Link pushes past him and opens his computer, typing in his password.

“No! I wasn’t! I was just– ”

Link clicks the little x in the top corner of the video and the room falls quiet as he turns back to Rhett.

“That’s my private stuff.”

“I was looking for the Ear Biscuits schedule!”

“And you thought you’d just watch some of my porn while you were in there?”

“It said May! I thought it meant the month!”

“Well it doesn’t mean that!”

“I know that now!”

Link looks at him for a moment and then rolls his eyes. “It’s a stupid name. I’ll.. rename it.. and hide it, I guess.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What if you need somethin’ else in the future?”

“Well I’ll know not to look in the John Mayer folder.”

Link makes a sound, something akin to a squawk. “What??”

“That’s what it is, right?”

“It’s– I mean, it’s..” Link stutters, unable to look at him. “NO.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s not.”

Rhett gestures to the laptop, which still sits open on the desk. “You’re tellin’ me all those dudes with the long hair don’t make you think of… him?”

Link doesn’t answer the question, he just frowns. “I should’a called it something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. PORN maybe?? THIS IS MY PORN RHETT DON’T LOOK AT IT?? Does it need to be that obvious?”

Rhett can’t help but laugh, “That wouldn’t help at all. You know it’d only make me more curious.”

“True.” Link says, and he’s smiling now at least. “So fine, I’ll call it something you won’t care about.”

“Like what?”

“Well I’m not gonna tell you, ya dummy.”

Rhett raises his hands in defeat, “fine, fine.”

The room is quiet for a moment as they look at each other, and Rhett can’t help it when his gaze moves from Link’s face down to the idiot on the screen.

He’s so smug. So full of himself. He writes stupid lyrics and people just swoon over him. Link swoons over him.

But Rhett writes lyrics too. And he sings. What’s wrong with his songs?

“What’s John Mayer got that I ain’t got?”

Link’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “WHAT?”

“I didn’t even know you liked guys,” Rhett says quietly, “and now you’re into HIM of all people.”

“What’s wrong with HIM?”

“Well, for starters, he’s a– ” Rhett stops himself from calling the guy a name. Yeah he’s a stupid dumb idiot who steals the affection of certain best friends, but Rhett doesn’t need to say that to Link. He doesn’t need to make him more upset. “He’s not.. ”

“I know you think he’s not cool,” Link rolls his eyes again. “I don’t care.”

“It’s not that.”

“Well what is it??”

“He’s not.. me.” Rhett can feel his face start to burn the moment the words are out of his mouth. It’s stupid. He’s stupid. What is this? What’s he even doing?

“Not you??” Link laughs. “Dude, don’t tell me you’re jealous of John Mayer now too.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Rhett says, and Link shoots him a skeptical look. “I mean, maybe just a bit. But now...”

“Now what?”

“After I saw those videos..” Rhett chokes out. “Link, why’re you thinkin’ about him and not me?”

“Rhett, you’re not into guys!”

“And you are??” Rhett can’t seem to help the hysterical tone in his voice.

“Well, yeah, man.”

“Since when??”

“Since.. always, I think.”

“What about Christy?”

“Christy knows,” Link shrugs, “she’s okay with it.”

“Oh.”

Rhett thinks of his own wife and how she’d react if it were him.

Lately Jessie’s been more open-minded than anyone, more willing to learn and explore and grow. Would she be okay if he were.. if he liked..

And he already knows the answer – has heard her say a hundred times, a hundred ways, ‘we’re not who we used to be.. so whatever that means for you and Link, that’s fine by me. The four of us can figure it out.’

Rhett hadn’t questioned her at the time. Hadn’t realized what she meant.

“So, look, you found my porn,” Link is saying, “but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about this whole jealousy thing you’ve got going on. I’m not gonna stop watching it just because your feelings are hurt.”

“But..”

“But what??” Link asks, exasperated.

“I want you to think of me.”

“Look,” Link sighs and takes off his glasses, rubbing a hand over his eyes, “I used to think of you..”

“When??”

Link shrugs. “Awhile ago. Years.”

“Why’d you stop??”

“Rhett, listen, I knew it was never gonna happen with you so I made myself stop.”

“And it’s gonna happen with John Mayer??”

“No,” Link laughs, “it’s just a.. just a stupid fantasy.”

“So let me be your fantasy.” Rhett hates himself the moment it’s out of his mouth – he’s never said anything more embarrassing – and Link just gives him an odd look.

“Dude..”

Rhett cringes, “I know.”

“I’m not gonna fantasize about my straight best friend.”

“But I want..”

“Rhett, WHAT.”

“I’m not into guys,” Rhett tries to explain, feeling like an idiot, “but I’m into you.”

“Well, I’m a guy.”

“I know, but you’re – ”

Link steps forward, and before Rhett can say anything more Link leans in and kisses him. It seems to be a test at first, gentle, and then Link slips his tongue out, pressing against Rhett’s lips, encouraging Rhett to open for him.

And Rhett does. He doesn’t even question it. His brain just screams, yes! Finally! And he’s kissing Link, soft and wet, and an ache shoots through his body, straight to his dick.

When Link pulls away, Rhett’s still got his eyes closed, his head tilted, with a smile plastered to his mouth.

“Did you like that?” Link asks.

“Yeahhh,” Rhett sighs dreamily.

“Then you’re into guys, you dummy. The percentage don’t matter.”

Rhett’s eyes snap open. “Okay, I’m into guys.”

Link looks at him, wide-eyed, and smiles. “So kiss me again then.”

Rhett does, taking hold of Link’s face and kissing him, and he knows he’s supposed to be doing something else. He came in this room for a reason. A file or something.

But none of that matters because he’s kissing Link and Link’s kissing him back, and as Rhett pushes Link up against the desk they bump the cable on Link’s laptop and it beeps to notify them that it’s come unplugged.

“Hold on,” Link mumbles, pulling away to plug the cable back in, and Rhett’s eyes are fixed to the photo on the desktop.

Stupid John Mayer douche.

He’ll never have Link.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

Rhett glances up to find Link watching him curiously.

“What?”

“You’re staring at my laptop like you wanna murder it.”

“What,” Rhett sputters, “no I’m not.”

“You really are jealous, huh?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Link, I’m fine.”

“Guess I’ll just leave it open then,” Link smirks. “Since it’s not botherin’ you.”

Rhett reaches past him and slams the laptop shut. “No.”

Link laughs. “You’re like a jealous girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now?”

“Maybe,” Rhett says, and he’s dying. Literally dying. Link’s never going to let him live this down.

But Link kisses him again and suddenly Rhett doesn’t care. They’re kissing and Link is touching him. Link’s hands move down to unbutton his shirt, so Rhett grabs hold of Link’s shirt and tugs it up and over his head.

“What ones did you watch?”

“What what?”

“The videos, which ones.”

Rhett nearly chokes, looking away, and Link takes him by the chin and pulls his gaze back.

“You can tell me.”

“I don’t know,” Rhett admits, “I just skimmed a few.”

“Well what’d they do in them?”

“Blowjobs,” Rhett says, replaying the scenes in his mind, “lots of fingers everywhere. Fucking.”

“Fucking?”

“Yeah, tons of it.”

Link’s fingers slide down Rhett’s belly, stopping at his belt, and the buckle clinks as Link undoes it. “You wanna act it out?”

“Act it out??” Rhett feels like he might actually scream.

“Yeah.”

“DO I HAVE TO BE JOHN MAYER?”

“No!” Link laughs and shuts him up with another kiss. “Just be you, dummy.”

“You want me to– ” Rhett stammers, speaking against Link’s lips, “Want me to go to the door?”

“The door? Why?”

“To knock? Like in the video?”

Link laughs again, and at least Rhett’s managed that. If nothing else, he can always make Link laugh.

“You watched the dorm fantasy video?”

“I don’t know.”

“Guy studying? Red speedo?”

“Ohh, yeah, that one.”

“And how’d it end?”

Rhett’s eyes go wide. “Fucking.”

“Right,” Link says, smiling back at him. “So you wanna just skip to that?”

Rhett’s died. He’s a corpse.

But he manages to breathe out, “Yes.”

Link opens a drawer and tosses a bottle of lube on his desk, and he’s saying “come on, come on,” and Rhett’s brain finally returns to him, because if there’s one thing he’s good at it’s using his dick.

He’s not quite sure of the next step because he’s never done THIS. But Link walks him through the lube and the prep, and god, his ass is beautiful, and now Rhett gets to fuck it, and when Link’s hand slips over Rhett’s dick, slicking him up good, Rhett’s knees nearly give out.

Then Link’s turning away, still talking to him, teasing, asking, “You gonna fuck me better than John Mayer would?” and Rhett grips his hips and slides in slow, easing in deep, gasping at how tight Link is around him.

And Link groans,“Oh god.. fuck, you’re in..

And moans, “Rhett, do it.”

And Rhett does.

He fucks the hell out of Link.

Plows him into the desk.

Tries to fuck John Mayer right out of his mind.

Just rails him.

And Link keeps gasping, “Yeah, like that, yeah, Rhett, fuck me like that,” and when he breathes out “better than John Mayer ever could..” Rhett stops and grabs hold of him, turning him around, needing to see him, wanting Link to see who’s fucking him and giving it to him so good.

Link goes easily, seemingly happy about it, and when Link is bare-assed on the desk with his dick in his hand, Rhett hooks his arms under his knees and fucks in again.

“Tell me,” Rhett sputters as he fucks with everything he’s got.

“Tell you what?” Link is looking up at him, dazed, and they both know Link’s teasing.

“Tell me I’m better.”

“Better than who?”

���You know who,” Rhett grits out, and he’s going to come. Soon. Real soon. And he needs to hear it so bad. “HIM.”

“Oh..” Link grins, and his voice catches in his throat as he says, “John Mayer?”

Rhett can only nod, silently begging Link to give him what he needs.

“You’re better,” Link smiles up at him, his breath stuttering, and Rhett can feel him tighten around his cock. “You’re so good, Rhett, fuck, you fuck me better than anyone.”

“Yeah,” Rhett gasps, pulling Link’s knees up higher, fucking in tighter, harder, faster, and he nearly folds Link in half when he leans in to kiss him again.

And Link breathes against Rhett’s mouth, “No one fucks me like you..” and he comes, shooting hot between them, and Rhett groans and stills, coming hard inside Link.

“Fuck, yeah, so much better than him,” Link sighs, “You’re bigger too.”

And Rhett’s pretty sure he passes out.

When he comes to, he’s still holding onto Link, and he lets go slowly, easing his legs down.

“You alright?” Link’s asking, with a little worried expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Rhett says, “was I out long?”

“You were out??” Link sits up quickly, getting a better look at him.

“I think so,” Rhett shrugs, “I dunno. Maybe it was just too good.”

Link laughs, “Dude, stop.”

Rhett stares down at him, looking hurt.

“What, you’re sayin’ it wasn’t good?”

“Rhett– ”

And Rhett knows he’s teasing again, and he knows it was good, but Rhett pushes against his chest anyway, encouraging Link to lie back down on the desk.

And Rhett leans over and licks up every messy drop of cum from Link’s chest, and sucks his dick clean too.

He’s clearly better than John Mayer.

And he definitely likes guys. Especially Link.

[malienessan]

Well, I got a little inspired by the awesome pictures of Rhett golfing. @rhettjmc was it something like this you had in mind?

Can you help me find my balls?

THWACK!

The red ball flew in a perfect arc, over the fence at the 300 mark and landed with a thud in the thick grass, in the general vicinity of a couple of dozen other red balls.

THWACK!

The next red ball mimicked the previous almost perfectly, over the fence, landing with a thud.

THWACK!

And again.

THWACK!

And again.

It had been going like that for a while now. Rhett “Red Ball” McLaughlin was grooving it in a way like he hadn’t been since he was on the pro tour. As a matter of fact, a small crowd had gathered behind him, studying his technique, the perfect hit he made with every swing, his skill. Well, a few might have studied his physique as well. He was tall, 6ft7, with long, curly amber hair, that was partly covered by a trucker hat at the moment. And that strong body, well, he could really get some clubhead speed

THWACK!

“You ready to go man?”

“Oh, I’m just watching this guy drive.”

Rhett could clearly hear the mumbling coming from behind him. He almost smiled a little to himself but managed to refrain. He knew it would be way cooler if he didn’t acknowledge it.

Another ball.

THWACK!

It had been almost six months since Rhett played his last game. Life had been good since, he’d played a fair bit of golf, mostly for fun. He was working as a pro at Pinehurst so the game was ever present in his life.

But this.

Just swinging, driving ball after ball, no, that was a long time ago. His back wouldn’t usually let him either, but it had been good for a while. Probably because of the sweet massages he got from his love and former caddie, Link “Blue Balls” Neal.

THWACK!

Apparently someone in the party was ready to leave, but as far as Rhett could make out, they weren’t in agreement. Maybe it was time to break out the 7 iron? He adjusted his trucker hat, protecting his head from the sun, but letting his amber locks flow freely over his shoulders. His Ray-Bans perfected the look he was after.

THWACK!

Yep, he still got it. The red ball landed exactly where it should, Rhett didn’t even have to look after it, he could feel it in his body that it was a perfect hit.

THWACK!

“Damn…”

Oh, the audience was captivated. It was like being back on the tour, Rhett could feel the adrenaline, the endorphins, the need for attention and appreciation.

THWACK!

The second to last ball joined the dozen other red balls and Rhett pegged up his final one. He could hear some rustling behind him, he figured his audience knew that the show was all but over and had decided to leave.

He lined up the shot, swung back and right as he let the club descend…

“Babe, what are you up to?”

THWOOKK…

Nothing in this world could have gotten Rhett out of his groove, except the gorgeous man standing behind him, cheeky smile on his face, blue eyes twinkling. Rhett grinned at him, before turning towards the general direction in which the golf ball was heading and shouting “Fore!”. Hopefully it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Link! How long have you been standing there?”

Rhett put his club back in the bag and went up to his lover, giving him a kiss on the cheek, brushing his silver-streaked hair behind a beautiful ear. All of Link was beautiful, Rhett told him everyday.

“Long enough to see a bunch of men ogling you. And I know you could hear them, you filthy bastard.” His words were followed by a wide smile and a gentle touch at the growing hard on Rhett was sporting. Rhett glanced over his shoulder, they were pretty much alone.

“Oh, come on, you know how it is. And besides, I only have eyes for you, honey.” He patted the plaid clad butt, Link always wore such tight pants, and Rhett loved it. “Do you have 15 minutes to spare?”

Link tried to look scandalized but failed miserably. “What did you have in mind?”

Rhett pulled off his sunglasses, he wanted to have a proper look at his boyfriend. Then he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out two red balls, one for luck, and a spare, for extra luck. He threw them into the small grove nearby, and it sounded like one bounced off a tree trunk and one landed directly in the thick grass, impossible to see.

“Can you help me find my balls?”

He smiled at Link, who grinned back and took the lead, dragging Rhett by the hand.

A little while later, Link actually did find Rhett’s balls, and took a firm hold of them.

[leelaihardly]

Ch1. That Stupid F*CKING ugly Sweater

AU where Link Neal is a kids TV show host and Rhett is an aspiring entertainer. Featuring light sub!Rhett and Dom!Link and ugly sweaters.

[Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Audition day.

He smashed his alarm clock, apologized to his alarm clock, stepped in the shower and immediately had his head flooded with thoughts. The possibility of working under- with- his idol, the sweater-clad host of the live action Mythical Valley, a world he'd put down as a kid (the books, the cartoon and eventually the lunchbox) and then picked back up again.

Starting with putting it on the tube a few years back as background noise. Those late nights at the shop when he was struggling with an overdue repair, a man whose voice he ended up listening to on lunchbreaks, in the dim corner of his apartment, who always seemed to have a sparkle in his eye and a... way to everything he did.

This guy who had brightened the gloom of Rhett's bedroom for years without ever meeting him. Had brought out a side of Rhett none of his work buddies, his college buddies, his roommates could ever (under any circumstances) see. Had looked him in the eyes through glass, had sang his silly song and got Rhett to sing along, to scribble notes for harmonies, to dig his shitty puppet rigging back out of the basement and dust off his old guitar, to hop a train to L.A.

"No son of mine is gonna give up school to be a dang puppeteer."

Rhett knew he'd change his mind when he made it. A struggling puppeteer was a loser for sure but a puppeteer with a Hollywood role was another thing. This audition was just for the role of a new character being introduced, a small part but hey- he'd work his way out of obscurity- stick out for all the right reasons. The train jolted his head off the window and he forced himself to quit daydreaming, clear his head and look at the notes in his lap instead.

Woah. It's huge.

He wasn't prepared for the studio lot, the line for auditions, the scale of the whole operation. He half expected the woodsy creek-side cabin with its standee trees and painted waterfall vistas and miscellaneous suitcases book cases and folksy knick-knacks. Now he stood in a line of hopefuls, some pacing, some reciting lines from past episodes, one strumming a guitar far nicer than his, and a harmonica. And bongos. The casting call had said 'ability to play at least 1 instrument'. Not ten.

Friggin showoff.

A guy walked by twirling a tasseled rain stick.

Oh, come on!

He made himself quit it with being so judgmental. He was nervous. Jealous. He knew his height made him stick out and unconsciously assumed his default slouchy stance. A long-haired blonde woman with a headset and tool belt spoke into a walkie talkie,

"Dunno about that early lunch, Link, this line's pretty long. Plus one of them's like," she squinted up at Rhett like he was a mountain and he pressed himself against the wall, "6 foot seven."

He didn't hear the rest as she stalked off and continued mumbling -something about having to adjust the prompter rigging height and asking Link- Link Neal?

The Mister Neal.

Fuck. He was here. Rhett's head was spinning suddenly. He tried not to dissociate - the last thing he wanted was to end up in dream land and wake up and hear the blonde's deadpan voice go 'That's a wrap folks, gimme your forms if you haven't already and thanks for coming dooown.'

The guy in line in front of him seemed to be reading from one of the O.G books. The Mythical Valley books had been handed down to him by his big brother.

'These are for babies.' he'd said, thrusting a box of broken toys and too-small shirts at him. Those same books Rhett had bought second hand a week before audition day at a yard sale, loudly explaining they were for his niece to a bored-looking cashier, nervously flipping through them night before. As if he'd find something about Mythical he didn't already know.

Mister Neal was a perfect replica of his TV persona, itself a real-life rendering of his cartoon and ink-and-paper counterparts- the watercolor depictions from Rhett's boyhood, the pages he'd worshipped for longer than he'd admit.

"Good gracious, you're tall."

That voice- Him! Rhett spun around and was suddenly greeted by the face of his idol. There was one bulb in the hallway but somehow Link Neal was still the brightest thing in view. He felt like he'd been smacked by a sunbeam, knees weak and head spinning.

Guess that's why they call it 'star struck'.

Link Neal might as well have been immortal, looking at him now and noting the hint of grey- he was probably around Rhett's age but Rhett felt like he'd known him forever. And somehow, magically, mythically- this man he so looked up to was at the same time larger than life and at least a head shorter than him.

A noise escaped Rhett that must have sounded like a 'huh?' because then Link Neal said. "I said- how tall are you?" Rhett snapped out of it. "Um. 6 Foot 7."

"Gosh..." Link stepped back, seemingly taking him in and ignoring him all at once.

"Lookadat..." he said, more to himself.

"Link, auditioneer #12 is ready." spoke the blonde. Link adjusted his sweater- the sweater- Rhett noted, and followed her inside the room. The door shut.

That sweater. Rhett had always hated it yet it was inescapable if you watched the cartoon, which Rhett had, multiple times. The other boys had the shouty and perpetually shirtless He-Man but Rhett had Mister Neal. Mister Neal was different.

"Just yourself be if quare is you." he'd sing, like he was singing just for Rhett, who'd sing along, too close to the TV. Rhett's dad would frown. Cartoon Mister Neal skipped animatedly across some giant letters.

"True to yourself be, Q-U-A-R-E." Rhett's dad would tell him not to sit so close. As he got older he felt like he got some of the jokes in there that had gone over his head. Eating toast before school, still in his PJs he'd chuckle and say "Ah, classic Mister Neal." Smart. Charming. Funny.

Mister Neal never, ever took his sweater off. In the Spooktacular Special he sported the same sweater in hideous black and orange, in the Holiday episode he wore a turtleneck version of it, with light-up features added to the hideous multicolor pattern.

In season 3 a zitty-er, gangly-er Rhett had gotten embarrassingly excited for the 'A Mythical Day at the Lake' episode, thinking Mister Neal might shrug off the old thing and sport some swimwear or something but instead he'd spent 15 minutes sat there slack jawed and frustrated as the various Valley-dwellers stopped him every time he started to take it off, coming to him with their problems, as always, which he (dutifully, neighbourlyly) helped them with.

After the chance to see what cartoon Mister Neal looked like under that mess was yanked away yet again by appearances from Train Conductor Chase, Cartographer Chase AND Clown Chase, a hormone-addled Rhett had had enough of the gag and shook his TV yelling in his cracking voice,

"We all know you're the same friggin guy, Chase! Let Mister Neal take his dip what the heLL, man!"

Of course, his dad had walked in the room just in time to catch that part and that particular outburst got him 40 licks and lost him his Mythical Valley watching privileges for good. He'd hidden in his room and ripped the Mister Neal motivational poster from the wall, then immediately regretted it and apologized to it. He tried ~his mythical best~ to tape it back together. Mister Neal's glossy poster smile forgave him, absolved him. He fought the urge to kiss it like he used to kiss the last page of his copy of "Goodnight Mythical Moon" before bed.

Somehow doing that now...now that'd feel... weird. Instead he opted for whacking off and shooting some Space Invaders.

Grownup Rhett looked up and there was nobody in line ahead of him-

Crap.

He was outside Mister Neal's- Link's door!

Craaaap.

The blonde woman from before leaned out and gestured for the next one to come in. If he wasn't hunching he'd have had to duck from the light blue soundproofing sponge that lined this room, giving it the odd vibe of being suspended in a cloudless sky.

Judgement day. Feet away, looking more comfy than anyone had the right to, sitting cross legged in a director's chair and flanked on either side by the blonde woman and a tan skinned guy sporting a short cut.

"Well hi there," said Link. "We meet again, my tall auditioneer."

Someone hunched over a camera tripod gestured him to stand on the X marked out on the black and white checkered floor. "C'mere- get on your mark and just-" Link inhaled and exhaled for effect ,

"Relax."

He spoke to him like Rhett was a particularly timid wild animal he was coaxing out from behind a bush. Rhett's face flushed.

"We ain't gonna bitechya." he said, "Show us what ya got."

he put his chin on top of his curled wrist and leaned forward.

Rhett's face flushed HARD. The room got quiet.

The words to 'Be Your Mythical Best' were stuck in his throat. All eyes were on him but only two of 'em mattered. The blue ones that made this sky room pale by comparison.

Hell, they could give the ocean an inferiority complex.

"Gonna sing for me?"

He gripped his guitar protectively and nodded. Come on, Rhettster. You've done this a million times in front of the TV. How is this any different? He steeled himself against that penetrating gaze and played to camera. He was four strums in before one of his strings snapped.

"Fuck!" he said.

Link frowned immediately.

"No naughty words." he said, a note of warning in his tone Rhett had never, ever heard before.

The blonde and the other guy glanced at him slightly nervously. His intensity was almost storm-summoning. Then, he just breathed a practiced sigh and regained his composure, smoothing his sweater.

"I'm sorry, I-"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He thought.

He was blowing this, big time. Then he heard it, Link shut his eyes and started humming the first few bars, softly.

...Gosh.

He'd thrown him a freaking life preserver so Rhett grabbed on. He started singing the first verse, including some mouth guitar and strum miming, drumming on the front panel to keep time. And Mister Neal's smile was back -and he was singing along!

That juiced Rhett up and he let go-let his accent come through when he belted out the refrain, let it get throaty in the low parts. This allowed him to keep his eyes shut for most of the performance, scrunching his face for emphasis at times.

Part of him was just high on the rush of duetting with his idol, feeling their voices echo together, complement each other and resonate through the room like...like they were the only ones there. He let himself open his eyes for the last verse, voices softer, and he made eye contact with Link for that last line, and they held that note together, Link Neal could hold his own at note-holding, but he sure seemed to enjoy this challenge to his hard-won superiority, his eyes sparkling playfully.

Rhett was so genuinely tickled by this competitive streak he seemed to have teased out of his idol.

For some reason an image flashed in his head of the two of them- wrasslin' like teenagers, eye contact unbroken. Hands around wrists. Around waists. Link straddling him.

Uh-

Rhett shook the random thought away and unconsciously choked on his note.

The song was over. Link was a little winded, but the smile was still there. So, Rhett didn't stick the landing, but he definitely landed this one. He ducked his head to hide a spreading cocky grin.

He stopped himself short from premature celebration though when Link turned to face the short-haired guy and whispered in his ear. The two conferred suspiciously closely for a minute, then the guy whispered in Link's ear, although Link's face -suddenly serious- continued to gaze at Rhett.

Rhett felt a flurry of -something- go through him (he was working on naming his ...feelings, okay, cut him some slack) and realized he had forgotten to breathe. Link put his hand up as if to say 'Enough' and cleared his throat and glanced at a clipboard the blonde woman handed him.

A short woman with curly hair opened the door and leaned in, "Should we send in the next one, Mister Neal?" Link hand-waved without turning his head. "Not yet, Nicole, 'm havin' a little fun." he said, scrinching his hands up. "Come back in five."

"Yes, Mister Neal." she said, ducking out in a way that resembled a bow.

Wow. This guy's staff sure is whipped.

"Okay. So. Rhett McLaughlin, right?" Rhett nodded. "Well, can't make heads or tails of your guitar skills - but we did look at your video submissions. Both of 'em."

Both?...had he heard that right?

Well...Rhett had sent another video.

It was for the character submission contest a year back. He'd done an intro bit about his Original Character, had expanded it to be an entire episode even. He had attached the name 'Brett' out of some fear it'd end up in a blooper reel or get aired in a cheesy call-a-thon somewhere. He was so paranoid he hadn't even shown his face, just voiced the different parts from offscreen. It had been ages since he had shoved that into the P.O box, kissing the package for luck and waiting for The Call that never came for weeks after.

How'd Link make the connection?

It felt like he could read his thoughts so Rhett willed them away.

"I'm not so great with names but I never forget a performance. 'Specially one like that."

Rhett felt himself sway on his feet. He was warm all over. Link Neal's attention felt like sunshine and Rhett was bouncing like a stupid cartoon flower beneath it.

"Yeah, you did that same thing throat thing with your voice when you sang the outro." Link did a wiggling gesture at his neck. Then he turned away from him, concentrating. Rhett's foot quit bouncing.

"What was it, it was uh..." He snapped his fingers to jumpstart that memory. "Daniel... No-Damiel! Damiel the Shy Wolf, right?"

"Uhuh" Rhett nodded. "What's that? Speak up." Link said, hand beckoning expectantly.

"-Yes! Uh, I mean yes, Mister Neal."

Who's whipped now.

Mister Neal sat up and appeared to get comfier in his chair. He was having fun. He continued,

"So...How come you chose a wolf? You like dogs?"

"Uh Yes, Mister Neal."

Mister Neal grinned summore at that.

"You got a nice white, fluffy one back home?"

Mister Neal said in a syrupy voice.

"Yes Mist-"

Wait- how'd he know that? Could he actually read minds?

Mister Neal got up and sauntered over to him. The sway of that pelvis, that smirk, even that ugly sweater was hypnotic...somehow.

Mister Neal's hand was reaching out, torturously slowly, up towards him. Rhett imagined those fingers stroking his face, scruffing his beard, fingertips flirting higher to tug at his hair, tugging

...hard.

He snapped back to reality and Mister Neal was holding a long white hair so close to him Rhett went cross-eyed.

Oh. Right. Barbara probably shed on his towel again.

"Lucky guess." Gosh, he looked so self satisfied, taking his place back in front of the panel, stance tall.

"Tell me, Rhett, can you show me summore of Damiel, right now?"

"Wh- now? Mister Neal?"

Rhett cursed himself for sounding so stupid but his head felt empty, fuzzy with that soft gaze and that soft voice crowding out all logical thought like his head was full of cotton.

"Yeah, get down all small like you did in your little video."

Rhett made an unsure motion and Mister Neal fixed him with a Look, so he got lower.

"Yup, kneeling's good."

Mister Neal's presence was soft, grounding but- no denying it- also powerful, downright dangerous when he wanted it to be. Rhett found himself all the way on the floor, kneeling.

Kneeling is good.

His brain repeated. His gaze lifted cautiously to meet his idol's. Though it grazed over slacks, a belt buckle, and a sweater and a stubbly, exposed Adam's apple on the way. Blue eyes, a firm gaze. Cupid's bow lips smiling at the corners. He'd never seen Mister Neal from this angle before but now it was unspooling something inside him.

Kneeling is good.

"Yeah, thassit. Just like that." Rhett had to shake his head to snap out of it. He'd never pass up a chance to show off something he knew he was aces at.

"I'm not Damiel the w..woof I'm uh...just your common or garden talkin' shrub!" he improvised.

Rhett shrunk down and reared up his shoulders in a defensive canine pose, "Go away!"

"Hey there little Damiel, we're not gonna hurtchya. We're all good mythical neighbours here."

"N-no!" he said, growling. Mister Neal chuckled, undeterred. "Awh, okay, Damiel-" He turned as if to go up the steps to the cabin, then sniffed the air and turned back around.

"Hey- smellathat...is Chef Josh in the cabin cookin' something up? Somethin' tasty?"

"I don't smell anything!" Rhett said in the scratchy, higher pitched voice he adopted as Damiel, and tacked on "and 'sides I'm not hungry!"

"Hmmm..." said Mister Neal, making a wafting motion with his talented hands, "Smells like bacon."

Then Mister Neal made a sizzle noise with his talented mouth.

Wait- what?

"Sounds like bacon too!" he said, making sure to share a smug knowing look with the audience but then snap back to feigning innocence towards his timid wild wolf.

"I don't want your yummy- I mean -yucky bacon!" retorted Damiel. Link crouched down and pushed the invisible bush out of the way, making eye contact with Damiel- Rhett.

"Wanna find out what it tastes like?" Rhett gulped.

"Yes, Mister Neal." fuck- that was his voice, his actual voice-

Fuck, find your brain, McLaughlin!

He coughed and switched back to Damiel quick. "A-and I'll only come out once you promise the coast is clear and here's no stinky ol' h-hunters around." Mister Neal grinned.

"I promise." he held out his pinky. Rhett cautiously hooked his around. Any lines he could have come up with caught in his throat. Mister Neal sprung up to stand, somehow pulling Rhett up too. He had the smirk of a man who'd just caught himself a wolf. And he had caught him. Literally, he had him around his little finger. That night at his too-short bed at his too-small apartment, Rhett tossed and turned. He hadn't had dreams in a long time.

Rhett's brain had always had a dreaming problem. In fact, when he was little, he'd scurry down the hall and bore his dad with stories about Blondor or flying on his pet dragon. Until he'd flat out told him to quit it. So he did.

He stopped dreaming, or at least remembering his dreams. He was still an ideas guy, but he kept his head down and his nose in his books. Rhett's brain had always been highly suggestible, too.

Granted, today had been weird. Probably the weirdest audition he'd been to. He was pretty sure if he didn't clinch it he could still sue Mythical Valley for the host having put his hands on him during the interview.

He chuckled darkly to himself.

Wait- had he touched him? Actually?

Looking back he was struggling to remember, through the mental clouds, anything but Mister Neal's sharp eyes, his talky hands, his fuzzy sweater, his mischievous smile, his voice...

He dreamed, that night, of Mister Neal in the Mythical Cabin Kitchen, a blue apron over his sweater which slouched off to reveal a sunburnt shoulder. Rhett must've been on the floor cause he was looking up a him.

Dangling a strip of bacon. His voice...teasing him...

"You gonna sing for me?"

"You gonna kneel for me?"

"Sit."

"Speak."

"Roll over."

"You wanna treat? You're gonna have to show me a trick..."

Oh, he wanted it. Bad.

"Gonna cum for me?"

A whine.

"Yes Mr. Neal"

"Yes,...hh.. Mr. Neal"

"Oh- oh gosh, y-yes Mr. Neal!"

Rhett woke up early, milked the snake and tried to remember the hot, wet dream he'd woken up from but his brain was...fuzzy... He was pretty sure he'd gotten lucky, and whoever it was it must have been good to wake him up all achey like that.

Achey and dizzy, like all his thoughts had slipped away and been replaced with some kind of craving.

He bent down and flipped open his mini fridge.

Where's that bacon from Tuesday? Ah, there it is!

His hand seized on it and at that exact moment. It came back to him.

The dream did. All of it.

All of it.

"Oh, Fuck."

[memzhay]

Get a Switch

After the episode and the More had wrapped, there were still the thumbnails to shoot, and the Instagram teaser. Swipe Up Y'all! Link powered through it pleasantly enough, but Rhett could tell he was edgy, if not outright pissed. Once everything had wrapped for the day, Link made a point of joking around kindly with Kaitlyn to show there were no hard feelings about the flyswatter. He excused himself shortly thereafter and headed off quickly towards the offices.

Rhett hung around with the crew for a while, giving him some time to cool off. Link didn’t like being confronted on things when he was riled, but if you gave him space to sort himself out, he course corrected pretty quickly. Kaitlyn approached Rhett nervously and asked if he thought Link was alright. Rhett assured her heartily that he was and went off to see for himself.

Link was sitting on the corner of their office sofa, one leg crossed over the other, and staring off into space. He looked tired, and his foot bounced restlessly in his lap.

“Hey,” Rhett said softly from the doorway. “You alright?”

“What?” Link said, noticing his presence. “Of course, I’m alright. Did you want to start planning out that TikTok series we were talking about?”

Rhett closed the door, came over to the sofa, and sat down next to Link. “I just thought maybe you might want to talk some about what happened in More. The flyswatter. If you knew you were going to have issues with it, why didn’t you say something when we were deciding what to put on the survey?”

“I didn’t think about it at the time. Wasn’t really until she swatted me that I freaked a little. You know I only halfway pay attention to those things anyway. It’s funnier if I’m a little caught off guard. Makes the reactions more genuine,” Link explained. “Besides. It was a long time ago.”

“Well, as someone who was made to go ‘get a switch’ a time or two, I know how scary that could be as a kid. Why didn’t I know?” Rhett asked helplessly. That was the thing that was really bothering him. He thought he knew everything about Link. Every phobia. Every fascination. Where the bulk of his childhood trauma came from, and how it shaped who he was as a person. Learning that Link had pain that he didn’t know about was surprisingly hard to deal with.

Link paused, sensing that Rhett was really concerned about this. “You know,” he said with a sigh. “You go to therapy. You do your honest best to figure out where the things you don’t like about yourself come from, and how you can do better. You work hard. You cry. You ask yourself hard questions. You journal. Sometimes it seems like there is no bottom to the well. There is always going to be a time when someone casually smacks you with a flyswatter, and you feel too many feelings about it, and you wonder if you’ve made any progress at all. I mean, what do you do when you want to be an emotionally healthy adult, but you keep getting reminded that at the root of it, you’re just a scared kid?”

Rhett nodded in sympathy, reached out, and squeezed Link’s shoulder.

Link’s eyes teared involuntarily for the briefest of moments before whipping out a reassuring grin. “Well, the ethical dilemma of archaic disciplinary methods for children aside, we really should start plotting out that bank heist sketch. Maybe do a flowchart or something?” he suggested, quickly rising to his feet.

Rhett stood up and manhandled him into a fierce bear hug.

“Oof!” The force of it knocked the wind out of Link for a second. He returned the hug. After a few seconds, when they would normally let go, he lifted a hand to do the old manly hug and slap but found that Rhett continued to hold on.

Link retuned his hand to Rhett’s back. Rhett could feel Link squeeze him tighter, like he was trying to match the force of Rhett’s arms around him. Rhett wondered for a minute if Link was about to turn this into wrestling. Maybe he was thinking of trying to toss Rhett on the couch or wrestle him to the floor. After another moment, when Rhett didn’t budge, Link relaxed into his arms.

Link is a bit like a chocolate bar: hold him long enough, he’s gonna melt.

Link brought his hands up to Rhett’s shoulders and idly kneaded his muscles. “You ok, Rhett?” he asked, his voice muffled by Rhett’s chest.

“Yeah,” Rhett replied. “We just don’t hug enough, you know?”

“I thought you didn’t like it,” Link said, turning his face and resting it on Rhett’s shoulder.

“I thought it was you,” Rhett replied.

“Hmmm,” Link mused. The hug continued. Now that it was established that nobody was going anywhere for a while, Link allowed himself to relish the feeling of being held, and that Rhett was worried about him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you had a thing about flyswatters,” Rhett said sadly.

“I’m sorry I don’t pay more attention in meetings,” Link returned. Rhett brought a hand up to the back of his head, petting his hair and settling on his neck.

“I’m not gonna cry, if that’s what you want,” Link said sarcastically into Rhett’s shoulder.

“I don’t ever want that!” Rhett said, choking up and going back to practically squeezing the life out of Link.

Link smiled. Rhett really was a big softie sometimes. “It’s alright, big man. I’m alright. You hug me as much as you want, but if you toss out an idea for an episode at the next pitch meeting entitled ‘Rhett and Link Hug and Talk Vulnerably for 15 Minutes’ I’m gonna be mad.”

Rhett laughed and let go of Link. “Well, at least you have something to talk to your therapist about the next time,” he joked.

“Shut up, man!” Link laughed. His eyes were lit with mischief and he seemed himself again. Rhett smiled.

“So,” Rhett considered. “We can do a flow chart, or we figure the resurfacing of childhood trauma more than caps the day, and we go over to the creative house and play old school Mario Karts on Super Nintendo.”

Link thought about that. “Business talk about the sketch in the car, game time once we are in the door of the house?” he offered.

“Deal!” Rhett agreed. They grabbed their things.

“And I get to be Yoshi,” Link insisted.

“You always get to be Yoshi!” Rhett protested.

“My babysitter beat me with switches and flyswatters!” Link moaned theatrically as they walked out the door.

“Fine! Fine!” Rhett laughed, shutting off the lights and closing the door.

[captainsourwolf]

okay hear me out.

everyone knows about link’s crush on john mayer. it’s no secret, he happily told everyone on camera his crush is the singer. nobody is surprised of course, least of all rhett, because rhett is the one that gets to hold his hand and love him and fuck him and kiss him and do all the things john mayer just wishes he could fucking do with link neal.

which okay, maybe rhett’s a little jealous sometimes. but he can’t help it. john mayer gets brought up and link’s eyes light up, this spot on his throat that ticks when his pulse rate spikes starts jumpin’, he gets this weirdly euphoric look on his face because he gets to talk about his stupid crush. the last time he reacted like that to rhett was when they were in college and he thought he was being smooth hiding his feelings.

okay so rhett is a lot jealous. sue him.

one day at the creative house he walks in and link’s playing an old john mayer cd and rhett’s blood instantly boils. he follows the source straight into link’s office where link is bebopping his head along to some stupid song about something stupid and rhett clenches a fist before he can even stop himself.

“link,” rhett would huff when he’s ignored only to feel bad a second later. he’s had crushes before. he remembers what it feels like.

but this different. this is link getting weirdly giddy when the other man is brought up, this is him bringing the singer up any chance he gets, it’s link acting like a teenager experiencing his first boner because someone made him feel all tingly.

rhett hates it. supremely. with everything in him.

which is why he can’t be blamed when he slaps his hand on link’s dumb boom box he just had to have and effectively stops john mayer’s crooning. link jumps in surprise and finally notices rhett has entered the room.

“hey—! i was listening to that!” but he isn’t angry, just peeved, cheeks flushing a bit when he glares at rhett and gets up to turn it back on.

rhett is taller and bigger so he blocks the boom box and crosses his arms.

“maybe im tired of listening to john mayer all the time,” rhett snips and link huffs and his mouth pops open into a perfect ring and he looks a bit murderous for a second if rhett’s bring totally honest. “your crush is cute, but come on, do we gotta listen to him all the time?”

link gets all huffy again and throws his hands in the air. “it’s not a crush, shut up, man,” he grumbles. but the spot on the back of his neck that gives him away all the time flares up and he reaches up to scrub at it.

“you loooooove him?” rhett teases. he can do that. he can tease, even if it means reverting back to when he was a high schooler that thought the way to a girl’s heart was through jokes and rude comments. he grins a little when link looks away, to the side and down, rubbing that spot even harder.

“shuddup, rhett.” there’s no venom to it, just a bit of amusement and embarrassment to go with the pinkness rising up his neck.

“you wanna hold his hand and swoon over him while he sings to you?”

link’s blush disappears under the collar of his—surprisingly enough—john mayer sweatshirt. the one that’s cream colored and splashed with pinks and blues, and looks soft against his skin.

“rhett—“

rhett grins a cheeky little grin and leans against the table the boom box is on.

“want him to wine and dine you? show you a good time?”

link’s tells are starting to pop out: shifting on his feet, scrubbing his neck, pushing at his glasses, fidgeting with his wedding ring. rhett is hitting every button and it sends a thrill through him knowing he’s making link a bit hot under the collar.

and of course that’s when he notices the blush deepen when he says “show you a good time” and the subtle way link is trying to adjust his pants. rhett swallows and licks his lips and thinks he could have some fun with this. he is jealous after all. get link hot, get him off, remind him rhett is the one he should be blushing for.

“want john mayer to kiss you, link?” rhett shoves away from his perch and stalks towards him. link licks his lips and looks down at the floor, shuffles his feet.

“you don’t—“ link shrugs and huffs. “you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

rhett bumps link’s chest he gets so close. dips down and kisses his hot cheek, his ear, tugs on it with his teeth a little.

“you wanna fuck him?” rhett whispers and tugs again. link whimpers a little, a tiny thing rhett almost doesn’t hear. when he registers that’s what he heard, he rears back enough to see link’s cheeks ruddy and hot and giving him away. rhett swallows, shuffles closer, feels an unmistakable bulge pressing into his leg.

link is hard. the realization makes the jealousy burn in rhett’s gut.

“do you want him to fuck you?” rhett murmurs and that’s the clencher. link’s cheeks turn tomato red and it disappears down his neck into that silly sweatshirt and his cock twitches on rhett’s hip.

link swallows so hard his throat clicks and he shoves rhett back, hardly far enough to put any space between them, but still. he glares up at rhett with no heat, digs fists into rhett’s shirt, yanks him down into a kiss that’s more bite than anything.

they don’t do things half-assed that’s for sure. link is naked and bent over his desk in no time, rhett naked and two fingers deep with spit and lube they keep hidden in the desk and leaning over link’s backside to get at his ear. breath hot and damp and making link shiver.

“wonder how good it’d feel to have john mayer’s fingers up your ass, baby? think his are as thick as mine?” link moans so loud rhett feels it in chest. his dick twitches at the sound.

link is a needy whiny mess. looks fucked out already spread out on his own desk, back heaving, cock dripping a sticky trail on his thigh and the floor. rhett can see his eyes where he’s leaning close, can see how dopey and unfocused they are just from rhett finger fucking him and talking about another man. the jealousy only makes him harder, makes him get a little rough with it, crooking his fingers just right to make link jerk and moan.

rhett pulls his fingers free and link whines and chases the feeling. he’s on his knees behind link biting an ass cheek and dragging his thumb over link’s stretched hole, teasing and kind of all over the place, not really knowing what he wants to do just that he wants to do it. so he makes link turn over, gets his mouth on a thigh, on a hip, on his balls, at the base of his cock.

“such a good singer, must have a nice mouth, too. surely he does.” link’s head thunks on the desk and he whines again, raises his hips to try and get rhett’s mouth on him. “think he can suck a cock with that nice mouth?”

“rhett—“

rhett licks him from root to tip, sloppy and messy, precum and spit wetting his beard, shining up his lips.

“want him to suck you off, link? fuck his mouth the way you do mine?” rhett gets a weak kick to his thigh and fingers winding in his hair. link leans up, on his free elbow, peers down at rhett all fucked out and horny and desperate. he growls and yanks rhett’s head back to look at him, at his flushed and sweaty face and his perky nips, taut belly, his cock throbbing and wet. “admit it,” rhett huffs a laugh and digs his fingers into link’s thighs.

“what if i do?” link admits, voice too rough around the edges.

that just won’t do.

rhett growls this time and shoves link’s hand off his head then stands, fits himself between link’s thighs. they stare at each other a moment, link smirking in challenge, rhett glaring. he roughly grabs link around the knees, hikes his legs up till he’s resting his calves on rhett’s sweaty shoulders. he drags his cock along rhett’s, the tease, and moans, smirk widening when rhett chokes a little.

“come on, then, fuck me, rhett, bet john mayer—“ it’s enough for rhett clamp a hand over his mouth, use the other one to slick himself up and line up and slip the head of his cock in link’s tight hole. link’s clipped off moan and the way he shudders it out makes rhett’s head spin.

again, they don’t do things half-assed, ever. rhett gives him his time to adjust, barely enough, and fucks into him messy and quick. link licks his palm and bites at the meat of his hand but rhett doesn’t budge. he keeps his hand there and pulls out and thrusts back in, starting up a steady rhythm. doesn’t take long to build a pace that punches the air out of link’s lungs.

link’s legs slip and wind around rhett’s waist. he yanks rhett forward and down, brow knitting when rhett’s cock hits deeper, smoother. rhett finally removes his hand and winds it through link’s hair and presses their chests together.

this close he can see the thin ring of blue left, the freckle beside his eye, the sweat beading on his upper lip. he tilts link’s head back and bites at his throat, takes his time sucking a bruise into the delicate skin over his jugular. he soothes it then goes back in for more and fucks link harder, making the desk rattle and groan under their combined weight and pace.

“this good enough?” rhett asks, having to stop and catch his breath before he can continue speaking. he starts a slow grind, barely out and right back in, making sure link feels it when he shoves his cock deep and presses his pelvis right up against link’s ass. “could he do it better?” the legs around his waist tighten.

“want that crooner to fuck you like this?” link’s breathing changes, hitches a little around his throat, and he’s scrambling to get his fingers in rhett’s hair, on rhett’s body. they slip on his back and end up around his waist, back in his hair, down again to his belly before finally giving up and squeezing around rhett’s neck. “want him to screw you against your desk all nice and slow? or get you on your belly and hold your head down and make you feel it?”

link gasps and rhett is done with the grinding, the slow pace, and sits back, holding onto link’s thighs. link can’t get a grip on anything in time and nearly bangs into the wall behind him, moaning loud and strangled, and reaching for rhett.

it’s always a punishing pace when they’re like this. rhett can’t help it. he likes to watch link fall apart like this, a sweaty mess, mouth open around choked off and desperate sounds, back arching as rhett fucks him. and he likes it when link finally blissfully falls apart.

rhett watches link’s face contort, his brows knitting so tight he’ll have a headache later, hands searching for something to hold onto. he’s almost there and he hasn’t even been touched since rhett got him up here. rhett loves it when he’s so horny for it that he cums untouched.

this time there’s an edge to it, a sting, and rhett can’t help himself from catching link’s eye, watching when he finally focuses enough to catch on.

“he fuck you better than i can, baby?”

and link loses it, jizzes all over himself in thick spurts, seemingly never ending as rhett screws him through it and he keeps cumming, speechless with it. he clenches around rhett’s cock, still a tease even when he’s just blown his load so hard he’s probably seeing stars. rhett likes that part, too.

link starts muttering little yeah’s and come on’s, fighting the over sensitivity and squeezing around rhett’s dick to milk it out of him. doesn’t take much, he was already about there, so when link sits up and drags fingers through the mess and reaches between them to feel where rhett’s fucking him and slick him up, that does him in. his hips stutter and he moans and folds in on himself, nearly loses his footing and takes link with him.

after a moment he finds he’s got his face buried in link’s neck, breathing evening out, mouth still hanging loose in satisfaction. link’s got him held up with an arm around his back, other propping himself up on the desk so he doesn’t fall.

takes a second but he gets himself together enough to unstick himself from link’s body. his dick slips out and with it a trickle of his release. link’s quiet moan and the way his ass clenches makes him chuckle and use his middle finger to plug it back in.

“it’s so gross when you do that.”

“you love it,” rhett laughs again and link flutters around him, sighing in resignation.

his blush is back. rhett sees it traveling from his cheeks to his neck to his chest. he’s embarassed, probably a little turned on still if the way his dick gives a valiant effort at twitching is anything to go by. but overall he’s spent and he lays back.

it’s quiet for a moment as rhett just waits for link to chill, to get himself together enough to face rhett’s amused stare. when he finally looks he has this softness there, in his eyes and around his mouth, only for rhett.

“you know you’re the only one,” he states it simply, quietly, pink in his cheeks flaring up for a moment.

rhett gathers him into a hug and kisses his temple.

“as if id ever believe john mayer could fuck you as good as me,” he whispers.

“oh my god. i hate you.”

rhett shakes his head, knowing better.

“nah, you love me.”

[rhinkthreeways]

Miracle (Angst Version)

The words reverberated through Rhett as his body responded physically, seemingly shutting down as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor.

“Sir, Mr. Neal was in an accident. We were unable to save him.”

The voice became a concerned muffle as the room swam in his vision before he passed out. 

The first thing that Rhett noticed when he came to later was how dull everything seemed to be. It was a hospital, it was kind of naturally dull, but...this seemed even more drab. Then, he heard a voice. The nurse who happened to be in the room told him to keep laying in the bed while she got the doctor, but for him, the words bounced off of him. 

He felt hollow, save for a throbbing, crawling pain that was inhabiting his skin that felt like it was stretched too thin. The person he was eviscerated by six words. His entire life, Link was there. And now…

What would it be like telling his parents? The crew? Link was always there to help shoulder the brunt of bad news, to provide support when things got hard. But now…

Rhett gasped for air that felt thin. In a way, he wished he were unconscious again. Easier to breathe, easier to not face the blistering truth. 

Link was gone.

Something clenched at Rhett’s heart, wrenching nothing but pain and tears from him as he gasped for breath. 

“How—how could you?” he whispered to the air. “Why? For what purpose?”

He gulped large mouthfuls of air, willing himself to go on. In the midst of his religious deconstruction, talking to God in times of pain and worry was still one habit he couldn’t seem to break.

“This can’t be real. Why would you do this? He was…” Rhett stumbled on the words. He never said them aloud before, letting them sit in a box, tucked away in his heart. But in the ruins of his heart was the box, cracked open and demanding to be known.

“He was everything.”

Rhett sobbed as he wrapped his arms around himself, squeezing himself tightly and desperately wishing the arms were Link’s.

“I know we don’t talk much. I don’t even know if I really believe in you. And I know you owe me nothing. But I need a miracle. I need this to not be real. Please. Let this be a nightmare, a mistake—anything.”

He brought his knees up and placed his elbows against them, burying his face in his hands. He knew it was a futile request. A man can’t be brought back from the dead. Besides, he already had been blessed with one miracle in his life. How selfish could be to ask for that miracle back?

Rhett stayed motionless, trying to figure out in his mind what he could, should, would do to begin living this new normal.

“Rhett?”

His mind was playing tricks on him. A voice silenced forever ringing in his ears. He sensed someone walking into the room, making their presence known beside him. Rhett slowly pulled his hands away to face the doctor. Instead, he saw vibrant blue eyes filled with worry and concern.

“Rhett. Oh, my gosh.”

Link threw his arms around Rhett’s shoulders, pulling him in for a desperate hug. Rhett, for his part, was concerned that his gut feeling he couldn’t live without Link was prophetic and he was in Heaven. But the sudden wetness on his neck and the warmth of Link’s arms seemed to burrow into his body, restarting his brain and churning his senses back into roaring existence. His arms flew around Link’s waist, heaving the smaller man into his lap. Link twisted himself around, allowing his legs to straddle Rhett’s and bringing the two even closer together.

Without thinking, Rhett pulled back, grabbed Link’s face in his hands and kissed him, pouring everything he could into it and feeling the grief that had taken over replaced with a warm, molten feeling of happiness as Link kissed back with equal fervor. 

Eventually their kisses slowed and Rhett pulled back again, his eyes roaming Link’s very alive face.

“How? Wha—?”

“My car was stolen,” Link said, sniffling, as he twirled the ends of Rhett’s hair in his fingers. “I was surfing and didn’t realize it until about an hour and a half ago. The cops told me the guy who stole my car, got into an accident and died. I left my wallet and phone in the center console so they assumed it belonged to him. He apparently looks like me. But then one of the cops here told the cops helping me what happened and that you had been notified and passed out as a result. They drove me here.”

“You’re alive.” Rhett whispered, awe flooding his voice as he stroked Link’s cheek.

“I’m alive. And you kissed me.”

Rhett could feel warmth in his cheeks, but he wasn’t embarrassed. 

“I thought I lost you. So many things I never told you because it felt like we had so much time. To have my future—our future—gone in an instant like that...it tore me apart.”

“So what haven’t you told me?”

“That I love you. I’ve loved you forever.”

Link smiled. “I love you too, Rhett. So much,” he said before diving into another kiss. 

Rhett savored the moment he thought he’d never have and the miracle that was Link Neal.

[harper44]

Mine and Yours

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck...” Rhett groans, back arching off the bed and fingers twisting in the bed spread. He’s still surprised Link didn’t tie his hands up, instead trusting him not to touch himself. So far he hasn’t, but as the stimulation increases, it gets harder. His dick weeps on his stomach, fluid pooling on his skin, getting smeared around every time his dick twitches. 

Link is somewhere near him, but Rhett doesn’t know exactly where because he can’t possibly open his eyes. He knows he’s close though, he can picture him now: light blue eyes turned the color of the bottom of the ocean as he watches every twitch of Rhett’s body, hand wrapped loosely around the remote delivering pleasure to his partner, a soft grin on his lips and legs spread wide.

To Rhett it feels like he’s been doing this for hours. Forever ago Link had kissed him sweet and sucked him off before pressing in the vibrator and tying his ankles together, sitting back and turning the toy on. He’s cum a couple of times now, but Link continues to edge him. It fluctuates between painful and euphoric, but the safe word hasn’t even entered his mind. He’ll let Link use him like this all night if he wants or at least until he passes out. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

His muscles jerk him through yet another climax and as he comes down from it with a sob, finally, mercifully, the vibrator stops. Groaning, his body relaxes slowly, patiently awaiting Link’s touch that he knows is coming. 

“I’m impressed, baby. You were so good for me,” Link murmurs, smoothing a hand over Rhett’s hair. 

Blinking as he opens his eyes, Rhett squints up at Link, adjusting to the low light of the room and searching out those comforting blue eyes. He finds them blown with lust, but his expression is attentive. With gentle hands, Link wipes drool, tears, sweat, and snot off his face. Once Rhett has gathered enough energy, he leans his face into Link’s hand and kisses his palm. “Use me, Link,” he whispers and the other man’s eyes snap back to him. “Want you to get off. Fuck my ass, my face, whatever you want. Use me.”

Link groans, hand sliding more firmly into Rhett’s hair as he tilts his hips forward slightly so his dick presses into Rhett’s arm through his pants. Rhett can’t even imagine how hard he must be. The prospect of cumming one more time plays in his mind. Link grips himself with his free hand and squeezes, eyelids fluttering closed before they open again when he says to Rhett, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

With a sharp breath in, Link pulls his pants down just enough to take his cock out and he strokes slowly, gaze drifting over Rhett’s body. His chest is still flushed and there are drying ropes of cum all over his stomach. Half hard because of Link’s display, his dick rests against his hip, thigh muscles still twitching occasionally. “Fuck,” Link breathes, letting go in order to lean down and kiss Rhett softly, lips ghosting down his neck and collar bones, tongue lapping gently at the cum on his stomach, and a few love bites scattered over his thighs. Then, Link is untying his legs, rubbing at his ankles and spreading them to find a sight that makes him sigh. 

Rhett’s fingers absentmindedly trace patterns into the blankets as Link settles between his thighs, one hand sliding up his skin toward his hole and the other back around his own dick. Through lidded eyes, Rhett watches him pleasure himself. He traces a finger around his hole, making Rhett shiver. The dark haired man bites his lip as he grabs the end of the vibrator and pulls it out slowly. Rhett groans long and loud and obscene, making Link mutter another, “Fuck,” before his hand speeds up and he’s grunting out his pleasure. 

Dick giving a valiant effort to get hard, Rhett watches his every move, saying, “You made me feel so good, Link. Never want anyone else to make me feel like that.” His eyes flit up to meet Rhett’s again as his mouth opens around a moan, shooting thick ropes of cum up his love’s chest. Rhett grins and closes his eyes, shuttering as his cock spills out the small amount of fluid it had left. He hardly registers Link’s careful hands cleaning him up until he’s encouraging him to get under the sheets. 

They curl up together and Link gives him a few more kisses. “You’re all mine.”

“All yours.”

(In case you want it on Ao3)

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (3/?)

For @peachworthy (The tale continues!) Part 1 here, Part 2 here

Link’s doing his best to tip toe in. It was a long night at the café he’s currently working at and he doesn’t want to wake Rhett. True, his roommate’s hours are strange (to say the least) but it’s always been ingrained in Link to be as respectful as possible.

Mrs. Neal raised her boy to be polite and one of the heights of good manners is not charging into the house you share with someone else in the middle of the night, raising a ruckus.

But as Link edges towards his room, he notices a glow coming from the living room and finds himself unable to not take a peek. Maybe Rhett left the television on?

Yet when he gets closer he sees that while yes, the television is on, it’s not because Rhett forgot about it. Rhett is actually in front of it, but not watching it. Instead his eyes are downcast and…wet.

A light sniffle comes from him and he runs the back of his right hand beneath his nose as if to wipe at it. Link can just barely make out a paper in his left hand when Rhett senses him.

Rhett turns and blinks, folding the paper up and clearing his throat, doing his best to sound amiable even despite the clear note of tears in his voice, “Oh! Hey, man! Didn’t know you were home.”

“Yeah,” Link says softly, “Had to stay late. Boss wanted to do a deep clean on the place after we closed,” he then adds cautiously, “You okay?”

Rhett looks back to his letter than to Link again as if internally debating something. Finally he comes back with, “Yeah. Kinda.”

He holds the letter up, “Got a message from my Momma.”

Link can only offer a sound of acknowledgement, not certain where to go from here. Rhett shifts about on the couch and Link takes it as a signal for him to come over, so he does, sitting across from his friend.

Rhett lowers the letter, but plays around with it, turning the carefully folded rectangle of paper over and over in his hands, “First time I’ve heard from her in a long time.”

“Good?” Link feels stupid and kind of helpless, but he’s trying and this is the only thing he can think to offer. Rhett sniffs again, but his lips twitch as if to smile, as if he recognizes that Link is doing his best, “I suppose. Looks like my brother got married awhile ago. Dad’s alright, stuff like that.”

“I see.”

“They’re still living in the same place. Mom changed jobs, but she likes the new one more. They adopted a dog and-and…” he sighs and just tosses the letter on the nearby coffee table, linking his fingers together to tuck his hands behind his head.

He lets out shaky breath, eyes directing upwards towards the ceiling as if to stave off more potential tears, “They’re fine…”

Link licks his lips, feels awkward and awful, and can only manage to say Rhett’s name before Rhett’s hands lower and he curls in on himself – his tall lanky form growing small as he whispers to the floor, “…totally fine…without me.”

That alone breaks Link. Without a second thought he moves over, draws Rhett close and hugs him tight. The bigger man lets himself be held, lets Link gather him up like a small child and rock him as he silently weeps.

Link murmurs nonsense into his hair for a while, little things like ‘it’s alright’ and ‘it’ll be okay’ and he doesn’t know if he’s doing more harm than good until he feels Rhett’s tense body begin to uncoil, begins to hear his breathing smoothing out.

Once he feels like Rhett’s doing better, he releases him – gets up and finds some tissues, a wet warm washcloth and a glass of water. He offers it all silently to Rhett, who takes it – using the washcloth to wipe his face clean, the tissues to finish up the job. He finishes more than half the glasses of water before he mumbles, “Sorry about that.”

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, bo.” Link doesn’t know where the endearment comes from. He hasn’t used it in ages and just as he’s about to explain it, Rhett lets out a broken bubble of laughter, “‘Bo’? Oh, man…haven’t heard that in an age.”

Link offers an apology but Rhett waves it off, “Nah, Link. I…I like it. I’ll be your ‘bo’.”

And then he turns vulnerable green eyes on him as he asks quietly, “Mean…if you’ll be mine.”

This is, of course, when Link knows his crush is over. It’s over because he’s now completely and totally in love with Rhett and he swallows thickly, even as he nods, “Yeah. Of course.”

“Good.” Rhett nods to himself as if they’ve just made a blood pact or something and he looks at the television which is just showing some random commercials. He gestures to it, “How’s about we watch something, huh? Get our minds on something else.”

By ‘our’ Link recognizes he probably means himself in particular, because Rhett can’t possibly know about the revelation Link’s just had, yet he feels a little too…seen. He bites his bottom lip hard and – even though he knows he shouldn’t – finds himself playing the part of devil’s advocate, “We can – or you can tell me if you plan on writing back.”

Rhett sits up straight, eyes wide, and Link wouldn’t be surprised if the man snaps at him. Link feels like a total jerk – just because he’s realized he’s in love with Rhett doesn’t mean he should hurt him this way, and, he knows that’s the real reason he said what he did. A sort of, ‘please-push-me-away’ move.

But he did anyway and now he braces for an argument, an insult – something. But then, much to his surprise, Rhett says hollowly, “I don’t know.”

Link presses his luck, “Mean, if she wrote you…think it means she misses you…”

Rhett snorts, “Doubt it. Probably just felt a bout of guilt. Thought she should reach out to her black sheep son.”

“Or maybe she wants to hear from you,” Link offers, “Know you’re alright.”

“Yeah and what am I supposed to write?” Rhett grumbles, “‘Hey Ma, I���m doing good. I filmed a three way yesterday – how ‘bout you?’”

“…a three way?” Link repeats, but Rhett continues on as if he didn’t hear him, “It’s not like I can tell her or-or any of them what I’ve been up to. I don’t think many parents like to brag about their kid’s accomplishments when that accomplishment is DPing a woman while making out with a guy at the same time.”

Link wants to ask what ‘DPing’ is, but he thinks he has an idea and it’s probably best not to get too in depth (pun not intended) on that, as he instead takes a different route, “It’s not like you have to tell her about your job. You can just say you’re in LA, you’re healthy, you got a fantastically handsome roommate named Link…”

That makes Rhett laugh, but in a good way, some of his ire easing, “‘Fantastically handsome’, huh?”

Link spreads his hands out, “What can I say? I’m truthful.”

Rhett chuckles some more and shakes his head, “Nah, I mean – sure, I can tell her all that, but if we…if we do reconnect, I’m just-? I’m afraid it’s going to come up.”

“Thought you said you aren’t ashamed of what you do.”

“I’m not,” Rhett affirms, “But she’s my mom. They’re my family. You know that and I know you get why it’s not something I want them to know about…”

“Well, I mean, I could tell you to get another job, but if this is what you like doing-!”

Rhett gets up from the couch and starts pacing, “It’s not that I like doing it. It’s that I’m good at it. And, like I’ve told you – good money, good co-workers,” he sighs and his pacing picks up pace, “I mean, granted, I’m getting on in years and I can’t do this forever and I always did plan on getting out when I, y’know, found someone.”

Someone not you, a thought hisses in Link’s ear and he almost physically swats out at it as Rhett continues, “‘Cause it’s not like I’d want to be in a relationship and do…what I do. It’d feel sorta unfaithful to me, albeit I know some people in the biz who are married and their partners are fine with it, but for me…”

Rhett stops pacing and flops down on the couch, groaning, “…and it’s not even like I can show off. I can’t show someone one of my films with pride and be like ‘look what I did’! Not my folks, not my theoretical other half, not-!”

“Me,” the word leaves Link’s mouth and he’s sort of shocked it left him. Rhett is shocked too, head whipping in his direction at the declaration and Link’s mouth just keeps working on its own, disconnected from his brain, “You…you can show me. If…if you want.”

The last comes out almost silent.

And Rhett just…keeps looking at him.

Link can hear everything. His breath. Rhett’s breath. The ticking of a clock some place. The television show whispering some medical mumbo jumbo. The air conditioning. His heart beat. All of it. He hears it all and then he hears a tentative, “Yeah?”

And Link just nods.

*I swear the next part will have some kind of sex. I know it’s weird that I’ve had 3 parts of a fic now about pornstar!Rhett and no porn but it’s coming. I just…got lost in feels here.

[lallyloo]

The Frozen Corn Incident

(I have stuff going on and haven’t written in a bit, but Rhett’s cold taint wouldn’t leave me alone.. so here’s some awkward silliness and a small amount of smut. Thank you @imincognitohere for listening to me ramble on about this today.. and yesterday) They’d been back in the office for awhile, and Link had been so focused on his own work, typing away, he’d barely registered the grunts and sighs from behind him. Complaints after filming were something they were used to – belly aches from hot peppers, headaches from too much sugar, chafed balls from wedgie hangman. They were both equal complainers, and they’d both grown accustomed to tuning the other one out. And Rhett was trying to be quiet, but he couldn’t help himself. He was freezing in places he never imagined he could be so cold, and nothing he did seemed to help. When a frustrated whine cut into Link’s concentration, he spun his chair around to see why Rhett was still complaining about frozen corn on his taint. Rhett looked miserable with one hand stuffed down his jeans, and the sight didn’t surprise Link – after so many years side by side, they’d been in all kinds of crazy situations. They’d seen the good, the bad, and a whole lot of awkward. A hand down the pants seemed par for the course and Link couldn’t help but smirk. “You still sufferin’, brother?”

Rhett’s eyes flicked to him, as if he hadn’t even noticed his presence, and he gave Link a pained look.

“My taint is still freezing, man.”

“You still sittin’ on the corn or what?”

“No, I’m not sittin’ on the corn,” Rhett huffed, and his arm tensed up as he cupped himself harder. “It’s been an hour and I’m still cold. Think I got frost bite or somethin’.”

Link’s eyes went wide, “Frost bite on your taint?”

“Man, I dunno. It’s still freezin’ and nothing I’m doing is helping.”

“Not even your hand? You’ve got the hottest hands out of everyone– ”

“Yeah, but– ”

“Always so dang sweaty– ”

“Link, I know, but it’s not makin’ a difference. It’s like the cold dries up the sweat, or turns it into ice or something.”

“I don’t think that’s– ”

“I gotta figure out somethin’. What happens if you get frost bite on your taint? Can they amputate a chode?”

“Ugh, don’t call it that.”

“But can they?”

“Rhett, they’re not gonna –

“I don’t wanna lose my taint.” Rhett stared at him in horror, “Or my balls?? What if –

“Rhett, you’re not gonna lose your taint or your balls. You’re crazy, dude.”

“Well, it feels like it. Feels like I’m losin’ feeling..”

“In your balls?”

“Everywhere.”

“Your butthole?”

“I dunno, maybe!”

“What about your..” Link raised his eyebrows and made a pointing motion towards Rhett’s dick. “Your tallywhacker?”

“Dude, shut up!” Rhett leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, bringing his free hand up to cover them. “Don’t make me think about it. I can’t lose my dick to a frozen corn incident.”

Link laughed, “You’re being dramatic. You’re not gonna lose your dick.”

Rhett lifted his hand to glare at him, his eyes narrow. “You don’t know.”

“You want me to get a heating pad or somethin’?”

Rhett was hopeful for a moment. “Do we have one?”

“I don’t know,” Link shrugged. “I could text Jenna and ask her to get one.”

“No,” Rhett waved his hand and covered his eyes again. “I’m not askin’ her to get a heating pad for my nads.”

“What? Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Dude, I don’t have to say it’s for your nutsack– ”

“And my taint.”

“Your nutsack and your taint. And your butthole if you’re gonna get specific.”

“Link, I’m sufferin’ here.”

“Can I text her?”

“NO!”

Link stared at him for a moment before letting out a loud sigh. “Stand up.”

“What?” Rhett sat up a little straighter in the chair.

“Just stand up.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna help you, now stand up.”

Rhett stood up slowly, his hand still stuck down his jeans.

“Gimme this.” Link grabbed Rhett’s wrist and eased his hand out of his pants, running his fingertips over Rhett’s. “Dude, your fingers are like ice!”

“I know, I told you!”

Link forced Rhett’s hand into his pocket, shoving it down deep and giving it a couple forceful pats for emphasis. “Leave it in there, let it warm up.”

“What’re you gonna– ”

“I’m gonna help you.”

Link took him by the shoulders and angled him so Link was up against his right side and Rhett went willingly, glancing down between them where Link’s hand was hovering over his zipper.

“Like, help help?”

“Yeah,” Link cupped the air and made a rubbing motion with his hand, “Help help. That okay?”

Rhett nodded, his eyebrows raised, “Well, yeah.”

Link popped the button on his jeans and eased the zipper down, and Rhett held his breath as Link’s hand slipped inside his boxer briefs.

Link was to-the-point about it, seemingly unfazed by the proximity of his hand to Rhett’s dick.

“You want me to– ” Rhett offered, “Move it outta the way?”

Link shook his head. “S’fine.”

Link brushed past Rhett’s cock, barely registered it touching his forearm, slipping under his balls the same way he would with his own if he was going to rub his own taint. He was focused, but he jerked his hand away for a second when he made contact with damp, cold skin.

“Dang, Rhett, you are cold.”

“I told ya.”

“What’ve you been doin’ sittin’ here with your hand down your britches?”

“Tryin’ to warm up”

“Tryin’ and failin’ more like,” Link muttered.

They tended to get a little more Southern in those moments, murmuring softly to each other. But they’d never done that, never been that close, with Link’s hand there, and Link settled his fingertips on the skin between Rhett’s balls and butt.

Rhett let out a breathy sigh of relief. “Your hands are warm.”

“Well yeah, dummy,” Link said quietly. “You should’a asked me to do this earlier”

They were quiet as Link rubbed him a bit, like a test at first, trying to bring warmth to the cold skin

“Does it burn?”

Rhett was distracted and it took him a moment to reply. “Burn?”

“Yeah, as it’s warmin’ up?”

“Oh, nah, not yet.”

Link was careful with his fingers, but with every few swipes he slipped a little too far back and Rhett jumped.

“Watch my–” he laughed nervously. “Watch my butthole.”

Link huffed out a laugh. “Your butthole?”

“Yeah!”

“I ain’t gonna finger your butthole if that’s what you’re worryin’ about.”

“I’m not worryin’,” Rhett said, because he wasn’t. That wasn’t what he meant.

They stayed quiet for another moment, as if they were both thinking.

“Is it cold though?” Link murmured.

“Yeah.”

“You want me to.. like,” Link slipped his hand back a little further and ghosted over Rhett’s ass. His cheeks were ice cold and Link chuckled softly. “Freezin’ here too, bo.”

“That’s what I told ya,” Rhett mumbled. “But you don’t have to..”

“You want me to though?”

Rhett paused before answering with a soft, “Yeah.”

Link rubbed gently, slow enough that he wouldn’t irritate Rhett’s frozen and overly-sensitive skin, but fast enough to bring warmth to the area. The base of his palm bumped against Rhett’s balls, his forearm sliding against Rhett’s cock, and Link didn’t say a word as Rhett grew hard against him. They both knew it was natural. Friction could do that.

“Dick’s warm,” Rhett muttered, trying to bring humor to the situation.

Link nodded, “I know.”

Rhett glanced down between them. “Is it buggin’ you? I can hold it up.”

“S’fine,” Link reiterated. “Ain’t botherin’ me none.”

And it wasn’t bothering him. It was just another thing. Cool butt, cold taint, warming balls, hot hard dick. It was fine.

Link slowed the rubbing, trying to change it up a bit as he pressed his fingers against Rhett’s taint.

“Pressin’ your button,” he murmured.

“What?” Rhett huffed out.

Link pushed in again and then started massaging in slow circles. “The evac button.”

“Oh,” Rhett breathed, “right..”

And then Link felt it.

Rhett’s dick was leaking slick and wet on his arm.

And in theory it should’ve bothered him, but it didn’t. At all.

“Feel good?” Link found himself asking.

And Rhett surprised himself by admitting, “real good..”

Link nodded and continued his kneading, his palm tapping against Rhett’s balls until Link just went for it and cupped them. They were soft, almost velvety, not much different than his own, and he held them the way he held himself, knowing what he liked and figuring Rhett might like it too.

“You’re warmin’ up,” Link breathed, as if the cold was even still a concern at that point, when he was actively playing with his best friend’s ballsack and massaging his taint.

Rhett just panted, actually panted, in reply and slid in the slick that now coated Link’s arm.

“You want me to stop?” Link asked, knowing it was probably a stupid question, and honestly hoping Rhett wouldn’t want him to.

“No,” Rhett huffed out a laugh, because that was the last thing he wanted, “god, don’t.”

So they were doing this, and it was fine. Just another thing.

Except it wasn’t just another thing. It was a big thing. Rhett was rubbing his dick on Link’s arm, and Link was pretty sure he was going to help him cum, and it somehow made sense, and then Rhett was tensing, and Link found he needed to watch him.

He wanted to see Rhett cum.

He’d heard it before – their college dorm room was small, and Link was good at feigning sleep. But he’d never seen Rhett’s face in those moments.

And here they were, and Link was helping to make it happen, wanting to make it happen, wanting to see it happen. He rubbed the now-warm skin, slipping his fingers back to ghost over Rhett’s ass again and he recognized the sharp inhale of breath as Rhett came and spurted wet heat over Link’s forearm.

Rhett was cumming in his boxers, all over Link’s arm and hand, and it was only then that Link really registered that he was hard too, and okay, this was something new. Something they’d probably need to explore further.

But currently, Rhett was looking down, his hair falling into his eyes as he chuckled softly, embarrassed.

Link knew further exploration would have to wait. But he was determined that it would happen. He eased his arm out of Rhett’s jeans, and turned it over, examining the mess Rhett had made on it.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he said, grinning, “and arm.”

Rhett watched him go, speaking up just as Link reached the door. “We gotta tell the writers they can never go colder than frozen corn.”

Link stopped and looked back at him. “Nah, we can go colder.”

“Link,” Rhett gave him a crazed look, “I’ll lose everything next time, dick and all.”

“You’ll be alright.”

“Your hand ain’t that warm, man.”

“That’s true,” Link replied, shooting Rhett another grin as he slipped out the door, and Rhett could hear his voice echoing down the hallway, “but I got a hot mouth!”

[clumsyclifford]

you are the taste of something sweet (and i’m tangled in the sheets)

hi i couldnt sleep so i wrote sleepy morning jalex and now i still cant sleep so im posting it. at 6am yes yes move on

this takes place in the same ‘verse as all hung up like i was on you (tumblr link), the fic based on t-shirt by thomas rhett. it might be better to read that first but if u dont feel like it then all u need to know is alex is a middle school teacher, jack has an office job, they are boyfriends yeah that’s all

this is fluffy fluff and i don’t think there are even any tws on it so!! fun for the whole family. (i mean there’s swearing but. at this point it’s a given)

title from holly (would you turn me on?) absolutely chuffed as they say to be finally using that as a title. just totally stoked i cant lie

read it here on ao3

Later, when Alex is more eloquent, he'll say that Jack is golden.

Or, no. More like Jack takes golden light and weaves it into something new, some gleaming…well, something. The point is that later on Alex will have the words, but right now he doesn't.

Right now, he just has the picture, but what a beautiful picture it is.

Jack is still asleep. Alex doesn't fault him, since it's Saturday and he's only just woken up himself, even though the clock has informed him it's half past noon and the sun is already high in the sky. Alex could move. He could get up, pull on some sweats, and shuffle into the kitchen to make some mid-afternoon coffee and brunch (breakfast eaten at lunchtime). Sure. He could.

But God, Jack is so gorgeous.

It's been a little while since Alex has had the opportunity just to watch Jack sleep. He watches Jack whenever he can, watches him shouting at the Orioles on TV (because honestly they could not possibly have chosen a less competent team to back), watches him pore over documents Alex still doesn't quite understand the nature of, watches him when he drives Alex home, windows down, breeze ruffling through his clothes and hair, singing terribly along with whatever early 2000s pop punk song happens to come on shuffle. It's so easy to watch him because there's always something to see; Jack is motion manifested, always on, always shifting like ripples in water, never quite the same on a second glance. 

But now, though. Now is special. Moments like these are special, because for once Jack is still, and what a stunning still photograph he makes. Long eyelashes over sharp cheekbones, dark hair contrasted against the white pillowcase, the blanket falling just low enough that his left shoulder is exposed, ink from the tattoo sprawling over tan skin. Alex could drink it in for the rest of his life, and he doubts he'd ever grow tired.

It must be a few minutes, but Alex is happy not to keep track. Eventually Jack stirs, and his eyelids twitch before he opens his eyes, slowly. When his gaze meets Alex's, he smiles, lazily.

"G'morning," he says huskily. The sleep hasn't cleared from his voice. Alex hopes it never does. 

"Morning," he answers.

"Time?"

"Don't ask." 

Jack breathes a tired laugh at that. "How long you been up?"

Alex feels a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Ten minutes, maybe."

"And you've been just sitting here watching me sleep?" Jack's eyes flutter shut as he smiles. "Creep."

Alex can't help it; he reaches out, fingertips landing on Jack's face, thumb tracing underneath his eye. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs. Jack exhales quietly, happily. "I love waking up with you." Wish I could do it every day, he means.

They haven't discussed it, but maybe it's time they do.

"You're not so bad yourself," Jack says warmly in return, but he doesn't open his eyes. 

Alex drags the pad of his thumb down Jack's jaw, then brushes over his cheek with the plane of his index finger, taking his time to trace the outline of the most beautiful face he's had the good fortune of falling in love with. Jack doesn't move, and his halfway smile doesn't waver as Alex smoothes his thumb over Jack's lips. "My Jack," he says softly. In the sanctuary of this morning, from the golden boy at the end of Alex's fingertips to the promise of sunshine and coffee when they finally get up, it's easy to add, "I love you."

At this Jack's smile does grow, and he finally opens his eyes. Alex can't even imagine what he sees. A man too far gone for his own good, probably. 

"Wait, say it again," he says. "I didn't get to look at you before."

It's so profoundly Jack that Alex has to swallow back a laugh. "I love you," he repeats, and the words taste like glitter and sunlight and Jack's smile is gold, pure gold.

"I love you too," he says, the most beautiful four-four measure Alex has ever heard, like Jack has somehow figured out a way to twist stardust into language; the shortest love song ever written, just for Alex's ears.

Alex smiles, and he knows he's not half as radiant as Jack when he does, but it's not like he could stop himself. To be in love with Jack is a privilege all by itself; for Jack to be in love with him, Alex thinks he must have been some kind of Odyssean hero in a past life.

"We should get up," Jack finally says, and Alex realizes he's lapsed into silence again, drinking in the sight of Jack once more. "At some point."

"Nah," Alex says. He threads his fingers through Jack's hair and shifts closer, until Jack rolls onto his back and Alex can lean over him, arms braced against the pillow. "I disagree."

"Oh, well, in that case," Jack says dryly, but he hasn't stopped smiling since his eyes opened to meet Alex's.

"We should stay here forever," Alex suggests. He ducks down and presses a kiss to Jack's cheek, and Jack giggles. "We should stay here," and he drops another kiss on Jack's other cheek, "and never go anywhere," his temple, "or see anyone," his nose, "or do anything else forever," and he starts trailing kisses down the line of Jack's jaw.

"We'll both be fired," Jack says pragmatically.

Alex shakes his head. "Don't care. We'll become hermits. I'm pretty sure hermits get a monthly check from, like, Hermits United."

"I think you watch too much Doctor Who."

Somehow this startles a laugh out of Alex, and he pulls away for a moment to look Jack in the face. "But you got the reference, so who's the real geek?"

When Jack laughs this time, Alex feels it vibrate against his lips where he's leaving soft kisses down the line of Jack's throat. "Oh, God. This is my worst nightmare. You've made me a Doctor Who fan." Then, "If anyone was going to corrupt me, of course it would be you."

Alex pulls back again, smiling in the gleaming light of Jack's fond look. "I hardly think Doctor Who is how I'm going to corrupt you. Didn't I just suggest we both get sacked and hole up in your apartment?"

"That's true." Jack skims a hand up Alex's chest and curls his fingers around Alex's neck. "I kinda liked that idea, though. Tell me more."

Alex hums. "Well, I can promise you it will involve a lot of this," and he dips down to kiss Jack on the lips, slowly, intently, savoring every second, committing the taste to memory in case anyone ever asks him what sunlight tastes like. 

Jack smiles against Alex's mouth, so Alex moves back just a breath. "I'm convinced," Jack mumbles. His fingernails scratch lightly at the back of Alex's neck, at the ends of his hair. "I'm in. Let's do it."

Alex chuckles and lowers himself down, kissing Jack again with absolutely no intention of stopping, and Jack lets him, and after a moment Alex thinks of something to say that requires breaking the kiss, so he does.

"Move in with me?" he asks.

Jack hums. "You should move in with me," he says. "All your shit is here anyway, and I live closer to your school."

"Sounds like you've thought about it."

"I have," says Jack. "A lot. I've been thinking about it for a long time."

Something about that makes Alex's heart skip a beat. "I'd love to move in with you," he says, a little breathless. "God, I fucking love you."

Jack gazes at Alex, deep, earnest brown eyes as sincere as they'd been the first day they'd met. "Alright, gig's up," he says. "I already said you can move in. You can stop the bribe now."

Alex laughs and hides his face in Jack's neck, barely moving his lips to brush a kiss over his collarbone. "No way, babe. I have weeks of not saying it to make up for."

"Weeks, huh?"

"Yeah, weeks."

"Oh, well. That's alright then." Jack's arms are tight around Alex's neck. "I love you. I'd love you more if you made coffee."

"This love can't be conditional," Alex protests. 

"It's not conditional! I'm just saying if you made coffee I'd love you even more."

"Choosing to believe you already love me the maximum amount," Alex says airily, "but I will make you coffee anyway, because I'm that nice."

Jack sighs contentedly. "You know, I always think I love you the maximum amount," he says reflectively, "but then every day I fall more in love with you. So I'm starting to think there might not be a limit."

Alex's heart skips another beat. That might become a problem if it continues. "Holy fuck, that's romantic," he says, because it is, and then, fervently, "Me too, by the way."

He feels Jack giggle. "Well, I woke up and the first thing you did was call me beautiful. I'm just trying to keep up at this point."

Alex wonders how he ever existed without Jack, and he sends up a silent prayer to whoever's listening that he never has to again. He shifts, rolling onto his side and pulling Jack with him, because his arms are getting kind of tired, and affords Jack a grin. "I meant it," he promises. "You are. So gorgeous. I wish I could just look at you forever."

"But then how would you watch Doctor Who?"

Alex laughs. "Good point. I take it back. I wish I could look at you forever except for forty-five minutes twice a week."

"That's more like it." Jack moves to cup Alex's face in his hand, and his smile is so soft, so quiet, something only for Alex to see. "I don't think I mentioned, but you're also beautiful, Alex. You're just." He sweeps his thumb over Alex's cheek. "I wish I knew more words, or more languages, or something, so I could figure out how to say what I'm trying to say."

And Alex thinks maybe he understands, because if it's anything like what Alex has been trying to say then he knows already there are no words for it in any language. It's not something that gets said; it's a feeling, or maybe a moment, and it's in the room right now, settling like a blanket over them both. "I know," he whispers, letting his eyes close, letting Jack lean in and kiss him gently, leisurely, like they have all the time in the world, and maybe they do.

(Sometime later, Alex will find his best approximations for what they're both grasping at right now. It'll start with I remember when I woke up the morning you first told me you loved me, my first thought was, "Wow, this man is golden," and it'll end with I do.)

[memzhay]

The Tonight Show

“Welcome back to the Tonight Show, everybody!” Jimmy says with palpable good humor. “We’re back with more from our good friends Rhett and Link!”

The audience cheers. The camera cuts to Rhett and Link seated on the couch next to Jimmy’s desk. Dressed to the nines. Big smiles. Having so much fun.

“We’re going to play a game for you tonight we are calling ‘Blank Thinks Blank is a Blank!’ Here’s how it’s going to work. In front of me are these 3 opaque jars.” He gestures to 3 large white mason jars in front of him on the desk. “In this jar,” pointing to the one on the audience’s left, “are our names, Rhett, Link, and Jimmy.”

“I’m Rhett!” Rhett offers helpfully.

“In this jar in the middle, we also have our names, Rhett, Link, and Jimmy.”

“I’m Link!” Link says proudly.

“Very good,” Jimmy chuckles. “And in this final jar there is some sort of mystery thing that one of us thinks another one of us, or himself I suppose, is.  I will draw a slip of paper from each of these jars, and we will enact a scene based on what comes out. Sound good?”

The audience claps. Rhett and Link look ready for action.

“Alright for our first scene,” he draws slips of paper from the jars, “Jimmy,” gestures to himself, “thinks Link,” the camera snaps to a close up of Link who gives an adorable ‘who me?’ look, “is a kitten!”

Link instantly gets down on his knees on the floor. Licking the back of his hand and grooming himself like a cute cute kitty.

“You’re missing the premise of the game here,” says Rhett. “You don’t have to be a kitten, he has to think you are a kitten.”

Link turns and looks up at Rhett. “Mew?” he says in a tiny kitten voice, and goes back to grooming himself.

Jimmy gets up and comes around the desk. “What an adorable little kitten!” he exclaims. “Can I pet you?” Jimmy reaches his hand down to Link who purrs and rubs his face on Jimmy’s hand. Rhett shakes his head from the couch looking embarrassed and a teensy bit jealous.

“Clearly evil,” says Rhett. The audience laughs, and a few cat people make sounds of mock outrage. Link hams it up, arching his body and rubbing his side against Jimmy’s leg.

“Do you want to play, little kitty? Do you want to play with this feather on a string?”

Jimmy holds up an invisible feather on an invisible string and Link wastes no time batting at it with his paws. “Mew!” he cries in delight. He barrel rolls on the ground and lays on his back pawing up at the invisible feather.

“Good kitty! Pretty kitty!” Jimmy praises. The Roots play some nice “TA DA!” music, and the scene is over. The audience cheers. Link gets up from the ground, dusts himself off and goes back to the couch.

“Alright, for our next scene,” Jimmy says, pulling slips of paper from the jars, “Rhett thinks Jimmy is a koala.”

Rhett springs up and does some warmup stretches. Jimmy stands in front of the desk looking slightly bewildered. “How am I supposed to-“

“Here,” Link gets up and stands next to Jimmy. “I’m a eucalyptus tree,” he offers helpfully. “Climb me.”

“What?!” Jimmy laughs.

“For goodness sakes,” Link says in mock exasperation. He grabs Jimmy’s arms and wraps them around his shoulders. He reaches down and hooks a hand under Jimmy’s thigh, picking it up and holding it in front of him. “It’s ok, man. I’m a tree,” he assures adopting a neutral ‘tree’ expression.

“G’day children!” Rhett says to the audience in a passable Australian accent. “This cheeky little fella here is a koala bear, and isn’t he a beauty?!” The audience laughs. Jimmy smiles sheepishly.

“Now we all know that koalas eat eucalyptus leaves.” Rhett picks up the discarded slips of paper from the previous rounds and approaches Jimmy. “This little guy just loves them!” he says holding a slip of paper up to Jimmy’s mouth.

Jimmy looks at Rhett like he must be insane, but Rhett doesn’t back down, and Jimmy opens his mouth and accepts the paper. Chewing miserably while the audience has a good laugh.

“See! Look at that hungry little fella! Now when the leaves fall off like that, you really should just put them back in the tree. Keeps everything nice and neat.” He holds the rest of the paper slips up to Link, who rolls his eyes but opens his mouth and allows Rhett to stuff the rest of the paper slips in it.

“Now remember children, these little buggers are cute, but if you see one, you mustn’t try to pet it. They can carry chlamydia.”  The audience cackles. Jimmy laughs and looks insulted. “This one definitely has chlamydia,” Rhett declares.

“TA DA!” play the Roots. The audience hoots and the scene ends.

Jimmy sits back behind the desk as Rhett and Link return to the couch. Jimmy is snickering and muttering about chlamydia.

“Alright, and for our final scene,” he says reading the last of the paper slips, “Link thinks Rhett is a motorcycle.”

Rhett and Link stand up and confer for a second.

“Do you think?” asks Rhett gesturing to the floor.

“Yes,” Link nods sagely. “I do.”

Rhett sighs. “I thought so.” He proceeds to lay down on the floor on his back, lifting his arms. While he is getting situated, Link gives a long-suffering look to the camera. He then doesn’t hesitate to get down on the floor, straddling Rhett, and grabbing his raised fists like handlebars.

“Time to hit the open road!” Link proclaims. He lifts his knee and brings it down like he is kick starting his bike. “Huh,” he ponders. “This motorcycle doesn’t make any noise when you start it.”

He tries again and Rhett makes enthusiastic vroom vroom noises. Link lets out a whoop and leans the motorcycle this way and that. “Let’s see what this baby can do. This is an excellent motorcycle! Top of the line!”

“I’m a Harley!” Rhett exclaims and continues making vroom vroom noises.

“You sure are!” calls Link. “You’re a big ol’ hog of a Harley! Let’s see if we can get this thing to pop a wheelie!”

Link grinds is hips down into Rhett, grabbing his wrists and lifting his shoulders off the ground. GIF makers all over the internet abruptly die of cardiac arrest only to be instantly resurrected by the power of the pure awesomeness of it!

“Whee!” Link yells in delight. He lowers his arms and Rhett’s shoulders return to the floor. Rhett is laughing now, and his arms go limp.

“Oh no!” Link yells. “Something’s gone wrong with my bike! We’re gonna crash!!”

Link flings himself off Rhett and rolls down the stairs, off the stage, and splats dramatically on the floor in front of the audience, limbs splayed every which way, tongue lolling out. He dies with a groan.

“TA DA!” the Roots play. The audience laughs and hollers and applauds like crazy.

Link hops up and bounds back up the stairs, helping Rhett off the ground. They take a moment brushing each other off and adjusting each other’s ties. Rhett smooths Link’s hair back. Link raises a hand to do the same, then shrugs as Rhett shakes his lion mane of hair into place majestically. They give the audience a wave and return to the couch laughing.

Jimmy is smiling and looking a bit dumfounded. “There were like a thousand ways you could have done that,” he says, “and you just mounted him!”

Link considers. “It was the best way to do it,” he says simply. He turns his head to Rhett who nods enthusiastically. Obviously!

The camera cuts back to a close up of Jimmy, a bemused smile on his face. “Legendary,” he says. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the new season of Good Mythical Morning hits YouTube on April 19th! Give it up for the incomparable Rhett and Link!!”

Cheers, music, and cut to commercial.

[captainsourwolf]

I had an email about a new Netflix movie:

And my brain immediately went the rhinky route.

Like, Rhett would be the wealthy charmer that’s been eyeballing the Neal farm (maybe a vineyard??) farther up north, around San Fran, and all its potential to make him even wealthier.

Link would be the hardworking farmer (vineyard grape picking person?? wine maker?? idk) that’s trying his best to keep the place afloat after his grandpa passes and his nana moves back to NC to live with his mom. So he’s the one running things and struggling with the upkeep and holding onto employees but he’s making it work.

Rhett first heard about the Neal vineyard after one of his potential clients brought him a bottle of their finest for dinner. He hears all about the eldest Neal getting sick and passing suddenly a few months ago and his one and only grandson—an engineer from LA—taking over. The story piques his interest because wine that good has got to be a big money maker. So he gets more info out of his client, finds out the place can’t hold down any employees since Neal passed, and he’s immediately sure of what he has to do to get the inside scoop to try and take the place.

Link sees an application for a fellow North Carolina man with experience in working on a farm and calls him right away. Rhett’s his name. He comes in for an interview and Link hires him on the spot. He’s also enamored right away the guy. Tall, legs for days, buff enough to crush Link if he wanted, kind eyes, and wild unkempt curls. He doesn’t flush when Rhett shakes his hand.

Rhett is all confidence in the interview, hiding what he really does and playing up his resume. The guy, Link, hires him on the spot. And Rhett doesn’t stare a little too long at the lock of salt n pepper hair hanging in his face, or the too blue eyes and the glasses and the broad shoulders and the tired but beautiful smile.

So Rhett starts working within the week. He moves into the house used for the workers with his minimal possessions. He isn’t looking forward to actually having to do all this hard work, but anything for his next big thing. He’s all about the money and the finer things in life after all. He fumbles through his first few days, hardly sees Link, but when he does he looks a little longer than he should.

The guy is attractive. More than he has any right to be for a struggling vineyard owner. He works in his office most days, and some days he’s out in the field with what few employees are left. In the fields he sweats under the glare of the sun, so much so his shirt clings to every dip and muscle. Rhett has to look away before he gets caught or finds himself in a situation. He can’t be attracted to the person he’s trying to sneakily buy out.

And Link, though he spends most of his days in the office, doesn’t miss Rhett when they’re in the field together or in the barn or wherever the man’s job for the day takes him. He doesn’t miss the way his biceps bulge when he’s lifting barrels of grapes onto the golf cart, and he doesn’t miss the way he shakes his hair out of his face when he’s hot, and he doesn’t miss the way the strip of tan skin between his jeans and shirt seems to stretch on for miles.

After a couple of weeks, Link finds himself alone in the office, in the entire house. He didn’t sign up for this, he didn’t sign up for a huge house and a vineyard and employees and just—the whole package. He’s not cut out for this life. If he could sell without losing everything he would. But his grandpa left it all for him to tend to and his nana couldn’t bear to be here anymore so he makes do. And it’s as he’s in the office alone that he hears a knock.

Rhett finds him. In the low lamplight, Link’s face is cast in shadow but his blue eyes and messy hair and tan skin still draw Rhett in. He swallows audibly and reminds himself he isn’t here for this and so he knocks to get Link’s attention. He doesn’t really remember what he was coming to talk to him about. He gets invited in and he sits.

They talk. About whatever. It’s stiff and awkward at first but after Link pours them a glass of their own wine, they loosen up. Share things. Both from North Carolina—Buies Creek, how bout that!—and both went to NC State. Went to the same schools, the same river, met up with their friends at the same spot in the same graveyard, how did they possibly miss each other so much? Rhett didn’t move there till third grade, Link was hiding in the bathroom from the John Carson’s every day and didn’t notice the new boy. Link was the shy and awkward kid, got called names so he made himself as small as possible, only had his mom and his grandparents and his one friend. And now here they are. Rhett a wealthy businessman and Link an unhappy engineer with a vineyard he was forced into.

Talking leads to quiet contemplation over another glass of wine. Third glass? Maybe. Rhett stares at Link, at the way his long fingers delicately hold the bottom of the glass, at the way his eyes droop the more he drinks, how blue they are in the lamplight. And Link watches Rhett. Watches the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way this one lone curl frames his ear, the way his neck flushes down his chest and into the unbuttoned V of his plaid shirt. He has to take another drink and doesn’t notice the way Rhett is gulping down the last of his, too.

Link starts talking about the vineyard and wanting to sell if it weren’t for the fact he’d lose everything. Rhett’s suddenly reminded of why he’s here and he clears his throat, shifts awkwardly in his chair, finally stands to leave. But a hand closes around his wrist across the desk and he sees Link standing, too, firm grip holding Rhett in place and blue of his eyes making him freeze.

Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the rush of guilt, maybe it’s the time of night and the quiet of the office, but Link lets him go and Rhett meets him halfway and pins him against the edge. Something clatters to the floor as Link bumps into the desk and Rhett gets two big hands under his thighs to hoist him into the surface. It’s most definitely a mistake moving forward but Rhett can’t help it and neither can Link. Rhett’s hand are huge and warm and feel good around his hips, and the noises Link makes are sweet and filthy all at once and make heat curl in Rhett’s belly.

Doesn’t take much to get each other off. Link laid out across the desk while Rhett plants kisses and bites along his neck and throat and all over his torso and jerks his cock in tight strokes that have him moaning too loud. He cums first with a gasp and a moan and spills over Rhett’s fist hot and fast. Then he’s slipping off the desk much smoother than someone three glasses of wine and post orgasm should be able to manage. He gets on his knees and sucks Rhett off so good Rhett sees stars and hunches over palms flat on the desk when he groans and cums down Link’s throat. Rhett cleans them both up and they say goodnight, awkward and fumbling, still a little tipsy.

After that it’s awkward baby steps around each other. Link knowing he’s crossed a line with an employee and Rhett knowing he’s about to take everything out from under Link, and both knowing they want more. For a few days they only speak in employee/employer terms. Of course it breaks by the weekend and Link finds Rhett at the barn cleaning up from the day and can’t help but crowd him against the barrels to jerk him off (and Rhett can’t help but make some joke about the reason the wine is so good is because it has the secret ingredient.)

It becomes a thing. They seek each other out often. Mostly to screw around, sometimes to drink, sometimes to talk, and always to just be near each other. Rhett is slowly feeling guiltier and guiltier about why he’s here, why he’s lying to Link, his purpose for doing this in the first place. And Link is slowly realizing just how much he likes Rhett. How much he’d give up to be with Rhett. So they seek each other out, they fuck, they talk, they kiss, they work.

Of course nothing good can last. Link finds out about Rhett, who he really is, what he’s doing here. And it breaks him. Here he is, wishing he could sell, could be out from under this vineyard, falling for someone, and it’s all just been a lie. A big fat lie! He gets mad, he breaks a few things, he finds Rhett and confronts him, tells him he knows everything. Tells him he knows now he was just getting close to Link to sweep the rug out from under him and get richer quick before running off back to his cushy life in LA.

Rhett argues. They both argue. It’s explosive and Link leaves. When he comes back the next day Rhett is gone. All his things are gone and just like that, after just a few weeks, Link’s left feeling emptier than he did the day his grandpa died.

Time passes. Rhett finds other avenues to make money in LA. Doesn’t flinch when, three months after he leaves, he sees something about the Neal family vineyard going up for auction. The grandson finally caved and sold to the highest bidder, took the money, and left everything except his most prized possessions. Rhett ignores it and moves on despite the ache in his chest seeing the hollow look on Link’s face in the picture, his hand clasped in another’s as he makes the deal. He did this to Link, he supposes.

One day a bottle of wine shows up on his desk. It’s got the signature Neal family vineyard label, the year, and a special label advertising the secret ingredient. And then there’s Link. He looks defeated and sad. But he smiles when he sees Rhett and shrugs, gesturing to the offering.

They make up over that bottle of wine, Rhett tells him the truth about everything, Link forgives him because in the end he didn’t want the vineyard anymore anyway. He made a pretty penny selling in an auction, didn’t lose as much as he thought he would, and now he’s got enough to do what he wants for awhile. They make up some more when Rhett lays Link out across the couch in his office and does what he tried to convince himself he wasn’t missing all these months.

Eventually things even out. Link doesn’t sting whenever he sees something about his former family business and Rhett stops feeling so guilty. Everything works out in the end.

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Moonlit Lovers - Part 1/2

I would like to gift this silly, little tale to @secondhand-watermelon. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Link said about a shadow falling in love with a person and when Melon threw in the idea of the shadow morphing into Rhett, I was compelled to write this. 

---

If you step out the side gate of the Capitol, face the highest peak of the mountains encircling the kingdom and travel as far east as you can, you might happen upon a small village. It might be hard to find, since it’s tucked between a river as wide as seven horses nose to tail and cliff side so steep one would need special equipment to climb it. The village is there, though, to be found should you want to visit. And if you do, you will be welcomed with open arms. 

You’ll be told they barely ever get travelers. They have no riches, nor do they possess any knowledge to share that an average person would deem valuable. They don’t know more about fishing than the folk from the villages along the shore. They grow their crops the same way as every other farmer across the kingdom. Despite the proximity of the mountains, they don’t even have access to valuable ore or ingenious ways to mold it. But what they do have, is stories.

If you find this village, Brittlebell, as it’s called by its dwellers, named after the white, puffy flower that grows on the side of the mountain, you’ll be escorted to a house bigger than the rest. You’ll be seated into a dining room, large enough to fit most of the villagers, and served a delicious meal. After the meal, a man will sit by your side and ask whether you’re there by chance or for the legends. If your answer is the latter, he’ll give you a crooked, pleased smile and pour you a big mug of honey mead. And then he’ll tell you a story. And if you are fortunate enough, he’ll tell you my favorite story. The story of the Moonlit Lovers.

—

Many years ago, in a village called Brittlebell, a boy was born to a couple that had wished for a child for years and years. His mother was the school teacher and his father was the village carpenter. They named the baby Lincoln, but his name soon shortened into Link. Link’s father couldn’t wait for Link to grow up and follow in his footsteps, working at the wood shop. Link’s mother couldn’t wait for Link to grow up and marry a nice girl and give his Mama a bunch of grandchildren to fuss over. They loved their boy dearly and he loved them just as much.

Link was like any other child. He spent his days playing in the small patch of woods behind the village or swimming in the river with the other kids. His childhood was happy and full of laughter. But as he grew past the early years, something changed. The other children started to avoid him. It was subtle at first, but by the time he was in his late teens, Link knew that there was something wrong with him. He had no friends, no one to spend his time with or to share his woes. His peers moved around him hesitantly, whispering and pointing when they thought he didn’t see. Link tried to ask them what he’d done wrong to deserve the poor treatment, but all he got was widened eyes and hushed apologies. He even asked his Mama, hoping she could explain the unexplainable, but all his mother did was smile sadly and pet his hair.

When Link turned eighteen, his father took him on as an apprentice. The day had been long-awaited and Link was excited to please his father. Beyond that, his heart’s deepest hope was that if he learned a trade his peers would accept him back into their midst. But it was easier said than done. There was no better man to teach the secrets of woodcarving than Link’s father. He showed Link all of his tips and tricks, told him how to choose the right piece of wood and how to mold it from the inside out rather than from the outside in. He showed his son the most beautiful pieces he’d made and encouraged him to try out all the different techniques in search of the one that suited him the best. 

Link could see the beauty of his father’s work and he wanted nothing more than to make him proud. So, he tried. He tried hard. He used the tools, used his hands, did everything he could, but to his disappointment, the wood wouldn’t cooperate like it did with his father. It wouldn’t reveal itself like it did to his father. Link’s creations were far from beautiful and barely usable. His father patted him on the shoulder after each one and told him that he would learn. Each time, he sounded less and less confident and it became increasingly hard for Link to see the disappointment on his father’s face.

After one particularly disastrous workday—Link had managed to chisel his foot instead of the piece of acacia he had been working on—instead of going home for supper, Link ran to the river. He sat at the riverbank, watching the sun set and the moon rise. The moon was full that night—a silver orb so luminous it almost rivaled the light of day. Teary-eyed, Link stared at the shimmering reflection it cast over the slowly moving water.

At first, he thought it was the wind that brushed a lock of hair from his face. He shivered and tucked his hair behind his ear. But when he felt the touch again, he realized it was too warm for the season. Link turned, expecting to see his Mama or maybe even his father, but all he saw was his own shadow cast onto the sand by the bright moonlight. 

As soon as Link turned back towards the river, confused and frightened, he felt the touch again. This time it was a soft caress across his cheek, wiping away the drying tears of frustration. Startled, Link jumped up and around, his hands tightening into trembling fists.

“Who goes there? What are you playing at?” he croaked, words as shaky as his legs. No one answered. But something wasn’t quite right; something about the empty riverbank made his stomach twist and turn. It took a while for him to realize what it was. 

His shadow was still sitting.

Link stared at it for a beat, blinking a few times, making sure he wasn’t mistaken. He was standing, but the shadow still sat on the riverbank. Link swirled around, eyes on the ground, hoping to see his actual shadow, hoping, for once, that he was being teased, that this was a strange prank concocted by the unkindest of his peers. Unable to find anything, he had to accept that what he was seeing was real. He turned back to look at his disobedient shadow.

“H-hello?” Link stammered, nudging the edge of shadow with his boot. The shadow shivered, its edges blurring and sharpening, but it didn’t get up. Slowly, Link sank back down onto the sand, facing his shadow—or the creature that had taken its place. Because surely this couldn’t be his shadow, surely it was a creature of the night, something from folktales, something sinister and old that had taken the place of his shadow.

“What are you?” Link asked, trying to keep his voice level and brave. The shadow moved, making Link jerk back and yelp. After he regained his composure, he saw that the shadow was now sitting like him, legs crossed, head tilted to the side. Since there was no clear attempt at hurting him, Link settled.

He sat like that for a long time, staring at the apparition before him. It didn’t talk, not with words at least, but Link felt like he could sense its thoughts somehow. Not words exactly, more like its mood, its feelings. And what he felt was undeniably good. With every passing moment, Link became more and more certain that the creature was a friend. As the knowledge solidified in his mind, the shadow seemed to grow darker.  

“Who are you?” Link whispered, his voice filled with curiosity. The shadow lifted its arm and instead of moving across the ground as a normal shadow would, it rose into the air, looking almost like it was made of swirling black smoke. Link’s eyes widened and he sat frozen in place, waiting for another touch—craving it, in fact. 

But just when the shadowy fingers were about to brush over Link’s lips, he heard his Mama calling for him. There was a sudden feeling of air being forcibly pulled from Link’s lungs and he gasped and coughed, trying to catch his breath. When he was able to gather himself, his Mama was walking down the riverbank and his shadow… was just a normal shadow—if not a bit too big for him.

After that night, Link returned to the riverbank every night after work. He sat right where he had, peeking over his shoulder, hoping to see his shadow move on its own, hoping to feel the soft touch on his cheek. But nothing happened. 

Not until Link had almost given up. A month later, he was walking towards the river, weaving between small houses, crossing the narrow main street, bathing in the moonlight when something—someone?—tugged at his shirt sleeve. 

Link stopped and with his heart beating wildly, slowly turned to look behind him. His shadow was painted onto the cobbles of the road, its shoulders broad and its chest wide and hair on its head a mane of wild curls. Link glanced at his own slim waist, lean,and much shorter hair and then looked back at the shadow.

The shadow waved.

Link let out a surprised laugh and immediately slapped a palm over his mouth not to attract attention. He felt the shadow’s soundless laughter fill his chest and tickle at his throat. 

“Hi,” he whispered, glancing around them to make sure they were alone. “I was afraid I’d imagined you.”

The shadow shook its head and pointed. Link frowned, trying to figure out what it was pointing at. The shadow wiggled his finger determinedly and finally, drew a circle with it. Link’s head snapped towards the sky and at the full moon lighting the village below.

“Oh,” he said as the realization hit him. “The full moon? You can only do this when it’s a full moon?”

The shadow nodded and did a small, happy dance, the edges of its long legs undulating against the uneven stones. Link smiled and bit his lip as not to laugh again. He felt elated and somehow, he knew that part of the feeling of pure joy he felt wasn’t his—it was the shadow’s.

“Can you do that thing again? With your hand?” Link asked, thrilled with the possibility.

The shadow nodded and ever so slowly, its arm rose from the road, its faded form made from plumes of black smoke. Awed, Link reached for it. Their fingers intertwined, one hand made of flesh and blood and bone, the other of something otherworldly. Link’s skin buzzed and tingled and his heart darted into an ear-ringing beat. 

A door opened a few houses down and a group of voices started closing in on them. Panicked, Link pulled the shadow up and dragged it along with him, rushing off from the road, hiding behind the closest building. The voices grew louder and eventually passed, but Link’s heart refused to slow down. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down.

“Sssssh.”

Link’s eyes flew open. Was that the evening wind, swishing against the shell of his ear? He had to blink a few times, confused about his vision suddenly being blurry. 

“Ssssafe,” a voice whispered into his ear, lodging Link’s heart into his throat. He realized that the blurriness was not a problem with his eyes, it was the shadow, standing in front of him, standing against him, with its mouth hovering right next to Link’s ear.

“You can talk?!” Link cried out and the shadow shushed him again. Link mumbled an apology. 

It was like he was fully enveloped by the shadow, engulfed inside it, in its warmth. Safe. He did feel safe and sound. Link sighed as relief flood through him. He let himself slump against the wall. 

The shadow seemed to be pleased with that. Link felt its approval as a soft hum inside his chest. 

The shadow made a sound, a purr almost, and lifted their hands, still intertwined and pressed its ghostly mouth against Link’s bare wrist. The tender touch sent shivers up Link’s arm that made their way into his belly and settled there, growing warm and squirmy.

Link lifted his free hand and gently touched the shadow’s face. It felt strange—almost solid in some parts but barely corporeal in others. 

“Can you—” Link paused and swallowed hard before continuing. “Can you kiss me?”

He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to ask that. Maybe it was the way the shadow made him feel. Happy and tingly and… not alone.

The shadow ducked down—it’s taller than me, Link noted absentmindedly—and brushed its lips against Link’s. As far as kisses go, it wasn’t much, but to Link, it was everything. His mouth opened into a soft exhale and his knees buckled. Silently, Link thanked the wall behind him, keeping him from falling.  

People never came near enough to touch Link, even in passing. He knew that his mother’s wishes of a nice girl and a litter of grandkids had been buried many years ago. He’d hidden his wishes away too. A wish to be kissed was something he only thought about in the dark of the night, alone in his bed when he imagined that he lived elsewhere. Somewhere where people didn’t balk when they saw him. Somewhere where he was a person someone would want to touch and kiss and love. It all felt like a fool’s dream.

But this thing… This apparition. This whatever-it-was had kissed him just like that. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it was meant to be.

“Bad?” Sadness trickled down Link’s spine and made him feel heavy and murky. His eyes flew wide open and he shook his head vigorously.

“No! Not bad. Good! So good. Very good. The goodest. I mean— I—” The words tumbled out of him in a rush and he had to pause to take a breath. He blushed when he asked quietly: “Again?”

In a flash, the sadness was replaced with bubbling joy and Link laughed and kissed and giggled and kissed and nuzzled and was pressed against the wall and kissed and kissed and kissed. 

And with each kiss, the shadow grew more real, grew more solid in Link’s embrace. It gasped for air like Link did. It moaned when Link’s mouth found its firm neck. Its fingers slipped under Link’s tunic and ghosted over his tented pants. Link could barely function by the time they sank onto the rough ground, tangled with each other. 

The next morning, Link woke up to a light tap on his leg. He jerked up from the ground, looking wildly around himself. The owner of the shop he’d fallen asleep behind was standing a few feet away, poking him with a broom, scowling at him.

Link’s hands reached for his shadow. The pain began even before he realized that he was alone again, that the being was gone, that his shadow had returned back to its normal, lifeless form.