Work Text:
Rhett thinks a lot about kissing.
The problem is that there’s thinking about kissing, and then there’s thinking about kissing Link, and lately the two thoughts have been conjoined more often than he would like to admit. And tonight they’re together in Rhett’s old bedroom in his parents’ house and he can think of nothing else. They’re listening to one of his Merle Haggard tapes, and Link’s talking about his romantic exploits, and all Rhett wants is for him to shut up.
“You can’t be that good at kissing,” Rhett says. He’s flat on his back on the bed, watching the slow blur of the ceiling fan. Link is on the floor beside the bed in a similar position. There’s sleet is falling outside, which would usually have made him worry about the next morning’s icy drive back to NC State after winter break, but tonight he’s anxious for a different reason.
Link breaks off, sounding indignant. “Man, she said I was!”
Rhett focuses on one spinning blade of the fan. He can picture the way Link looks when he’s about to kiss — heavy-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, a hint of a grin on his smug little face — and the fact that he’s not bothered by the thought is beginning to bother him very much.
He rolls onto his side, face pressed against the sheets. His heart’s hammering like mad.
“I’m pretty sure I’m a better kisser than you,” he says.
Link snorts. “Oh please.” Before Rhett can say anything else, he adds, “It’s always a competition with you.”
He’s annoyed, but that’s never stopped Rhett before. He pushes on. “There’s one way to see who’s better.”
“What, you wanna have a kissing competition in the dorms or something?”
“I’m talkin’ about…” Rhett clears his throat. “I’m talkin’ about seeing who’s the best between you and me.”
The next words are stuck in his throat, but Link gets it.
“You wanna kiss me.”
“Yeah.” Rhett balls his fist in the sheets, he shuts his eyes, he braces himself for the worst.
The phone rings downstairs, and he hears Cole answer it.
Rhett also hears Link move, but he’s too afraid to look up. He has some idea of what he might see in Link’s eyes, and he can’t bring himself to face it.
But when Link says nothing, his curiosity gets the better of him.
Link’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, his chin in one hand and forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. He’s drumming his fingers on his bottom lip.
“You don’t have to,” Rhett says in a small voice. “Just thought it might be nice.”
Link laughs, a touch of hysteria in the sound. “You’re playing with fire, man.”
“Good. S'freezing outside.”
“So you wanna burn.” Link moves closer. “You want the Linkster to burn you up.”
Rhett’s heart is beating so hard it almost hurts. He sits up, scoots away from the side of the bed and back against the pillows. “Never mind.”
But Link has that look, that glitter in his eyes, that wild edge to his grin he gets when he senses an easy target.
“I’ll kiss you,” he says. “On one condition.”
Rhett licks his lips self-consciously. “What?”
“I want this to be more than a one-time thing.”
It wasn’t what Rhett expected. He raises an eyebrow.
Link pull himself up onto the bed, sitting so he faces Rhett. A tinge of red is spreading across his cheeks.
“I’ve thought about this before,” he admits. “Kissin’ you. Thought about it a lot, really.”
Rhett laughs weakly.
“Me, too.”
So Link leans forward, his eyes half-closed. Rhett holds still, not wanting to break the spell. It’s all too perfect: Merle Haggard crooning in the background, his face warming with a blush that isn’t entirely unpleasant, Link’s mouth finally meeting his. He might be dreaming, but that’s okay because when he parts his lips, Link does the same and then it’s perfect.
Then it’s over and he can hardly breathe. Link’s looking him in the eye now, dead serious.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about doin’ that since tenth grade.”
Rhett scoffs. “Man, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since third grade, at least!”
“This ain’t a competition!”
Link tackles him then, and then they’re kissing over and over and Rhett’s giggling at the feel of Link’s hands pressing his shoulders into the bed and Link’s breathing hard and moving against him, and if Rhett died of bliss right now, he’d be okay with that.
He doesn’t register the sound of the bedroom door opening until he hears the voice that follows.
“Hey Link, your mom called. She wants…” Cole trails off.
In a flash, Rhett imagines what he sees — his younger brother flat on his back with his best friend bent over him, both red-faced and panting — and he freezes in terror.
Cole doesn’t speak for a full ten seconds.
“What,” he says finally. “What the hell is going on?”