Archive of Our Own ^beta

By the time they’re shaking hands at the end of the More, Link can tell something’s wrong. Rhett’s got his tongue pressed up in his cheek, lips tight, eyes focused on the monitor without seeing. Link pushes the worry aside with the careful practice of a man who’s been doing it all his life and finishes up with the crew, listens to their explanations of what’s coming up next.

“Let’s push that episode to tomorrow,” Link says when the idea of continuing to film comes up. He glances to the side, where Rhett’s been silent, and gets barely a flicker of reaction.

“Alright,” Rhett says, standing. He nods to Stevie, Kevin, and then he’s off. 

When Link finds Rhett, he’s in the loft, eyes closed as he reclines. He doesn’t look up as Link takes a seat opposite him, but Link knows he’s awake the same way as he knows Rhett’s upset about something: he simply knows.

Link lets Rhett come back to himself in his own time, distracts himself with social media while he waits for Rhett to initiate conversation. Five minutes stretch to ten minutes without Rhett speaking up, though, and so finally Link puts down his phone and looks over. Rhett’s looking at him, expression the careful blank of someone trying not to let their emotions show. Link stares back at him for a long moment, waiting, but nothing comes.

Link sighs. 

“You’re mad at me,” he says, because it’s true. Rhett gazes at Link for a few heartbeats longer before looking away, to the side.

“It's… my own issue.” Rhett’s voice is as carefully even as his expression and Link can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Alright, sure, but you’re still mad, and I’m still sitting right here.” Link gestures between them. “Let it out, man.”

Rhett doesn’t move, doesn’t look over. “That’s not a good idea,” he tells the wall. The burgeoning annoyance Link’s milking blooms into full-fledged frustration.

“Is it worse than letting me get riled?” he challenges. “Because believe me, Rhett, I’m getting there.”

“You’re going to get riled either way,” Rhett says, lips twitching, finally - finally looking over. Link feels better immediately, more settled.

“Then just tell me, brother,” he says, more quietly. Rhett clearly hesitates, smile fading as he runs his hand through his beard, before he sits back in his chair to face Link more fully.

“I’m less mad and more… disappointed,” Rhett starts carefully, slow as he always does when he’s working through his emotions. “And it’s about stuff in the past.”

“Okay,” Link encourages, nodding. “I can deal with you being retroactively disappointed in me.”

Rhett’s mouth twists in a simulacrum of a smile. 

“Watching the mini-doc brought it all back up. Then what you said - about how you’d been looking forward to going back, together.”

Link opens his mouth, closes it forcefully before he can get snappish. Says, instead: “I don’t understand how that could have disappointed you.”

Rhett looks away again. “I built it up in my head. Finally getting to do that with you, I mean. And it didn’t turn out like I wanted.”

It sounds like a confession, like this is the crux of it, but Link isn’t convinced. He’s - hurt, yeah, that the experience wasn’t everything Rhett wanted, but they’ve been friends a long time. Rhett’s a futurist - this isn’t the first time he’s been let down and it won’t be the last. The fact that it’s about Link is - important, though, and Link’s afraid he might be starting to understand.

“What did you want to happen?” Link asks. His pulse kicks up. He knows the answer.

“I thought… shit, Link, it’s stupid.”

Link rubs a hand over his jaw, forces himself to unclench his teeth. “Say it.”

Rhett presses his hands between his knees and stares down at them. “Being back there, being the people we are now. I thought you’d be braver.”

It’s only half an accusation, an assumption. Link scrapes his tongue against his teeth and tries to keep his voice level.

“Braver how,” he asks, though it comes out flat.

“Link…”

“Braver how, Rhett?”

Rhett breathes out heavily.

“I told you this wasn’t a good idea, man - ”

“Don’t man, me,” Link snaps. “Just say what the hell you mean.”

For all that it’s a demand, Link’s not ready for Rhett to meet his eyes and say, just as pissed now, “You’re in love with me.”

Link’s face feels hot even as the blood drains from his fingers, leaves him clenching and unclenching cold hands. He must look rough, because Rhett’s anger fades as quick as it’d come, and when he next speaks, it’s almost gentle.

“I’ve known since we were teenagers, Link. You… you told me.”

“I did not,” Link assures him, voice tight; Rhett manages a weak smile.

“The True Story of Link’s Broken Pelvis wasn’t - entirely true. Or… it was, but there was a conversation I left out.”

It’s never a good feeling, to be told you did something and to have no memory of it. Link had learned quick when they’d started drinking to never let himself get that drunk, to stay constantly vigilant. He remembers the story Rhett had written about Link’s concussion, remembers their friends mocking him for the broken record he’d been for that first day. There’s no way Link just changed tracks in the middle of things, which meant - 

“You asked me,” Link realizes, stomach churning. “You - you, when I was like that? You - ”

“I already knew,” Rhett says, though it sounds wretched. “I just wanted to be certain - ”

“Why?” Link demands. He hates how shrill he sounds to his own ears, wishes he could feel angrier about the revelation instead of fourteen and panicked about the fact that he’s been found out. It’s not fair - he’d been so careful, tried so hard - and it’s all Link can do to stop himself from tearing up or running out of there.

Rhett still hasn’t answered, is just staring at Link with some of the same fear echoed in his expression, like he’s just now realizing how badly this stood to go.

“Why?” Link repeats, pulse thundering in his ears. “Why the hell would you need to be certain of that, Rhett? I know it wasn’t to - to make a damn move, ‘cuz you would’ve fucking done it by now, so why was it?” He stands, shaking all over. “To stroke your own ego? That was big of you, man. Did it feel good, knowing I agonized over going to Hell because of the way you looked in gym shorts? Screw you, dude.”

Abruptly Link realizes that he wants to do physical violence to Rhett and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing hard. He can’t not make himself mad, but he can approach this without shouting.

“I’m sorry,” Rhett says in the ringing silence. Link purses his lips and sits back down.

“I feel… violated,” he says, eyes still closed, voice trembling with how hard he’s having to work to keep it level.. “I feel like I’ve been made a fool out of, all - all those times I-I pulled back, tried to keep you from - from being afraid I was gonna jump you or something, you freaking knew…”

“I know now how screwed up it was that I did that,” Rhett says, voice soft; some of the tension in Link’s spine eases as Rhett goes on.

“I never thought less of you, I actually - I was jealous, if you can believe it?” Rhett lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I always thought my self-control was better than yours, but you just kept proving me wrong.”

Looking at their past through this new lens, Link scrubs a hand over his face and asks, exasperated, “Did you try and - freaking goad me, man? Get me to confess?”

It’s a relief when Rhett’s eyes widen in surprise, rather than narrow and look away in his trademark I’m about to lie to you expression.

“I was a jerk, but I wasn’t that bad,” Rhett reassures him. 

“Was?” Link repeats, but it’s halfhearted. Rhett huffs out a breath and doesn’t respond.

“I thought about it sometimes, when I… did things, or said things, but it was always just to… reassure myself, I don’t know.”

“When you made sweeping gestures, you mean,” Link guesses, and Rhett shrugs self-consciously.

“It made sense you never reciprocated, if - if you were trying not to let it show.”

“You can say it,” Link sighs, suddenly weary. Rhett’s eyes dart up to him and Link swears they’re almost eager.

“If you were trying to hide the fact that you were in love with me.”

Despite everything, Link can’t help but snort and shake his head.

“You really are a narcissist, you know that? I can’t believe you freaking interrogated me while I was concussed and blitzed out of my mind on pain meds just to fuel your egomania.” As Rhett opens his mouth to protest, Link forges on.

“And this - this Buies Creek thing. Were you really disappointed I didn’t make a move in front of our crew while they pointed cameras at us?”

It’s more mocking than serious accusation, at this point, but Rhett looks down abruptly.

“I asked if you wanted to go out there again, just the two of us,” he mumbles. Link remembers - Rhett twitchy and bright-eyed, almost manic, and Link tired and overheated. There’d been a flash of something in Rhett’s face when Link had told him they could do it the next time they came back together - what was another twenty years to them, anyways? - but Rhett had shut it down quick and, now that Link’s thinking about it, excused himself to his room almost immediately after.

“I wouldn’t have said anything,” Link says, as gently as he’s able when he’s still sore and jumpy. He can’t pretend to know what this all means in Rhett’s head, but surely Rhett knows that Link would never have brought it up on his own.

Rhett breathes in, breathes out, breathes in again. “I was going to,” he says. Link snorts.

“Yeah, well, we saw how well that went.”

“I don’t mean - that’s not it,” Rhett manages, voice pinched. “I was going to tell you that I…” Rhett looks to Link for help, and though he’s pretty sure he knows what Rhett’s going to say, Link can only stare at him like he’s grown a second head. Rhett makes a face and clears his throat.

“I’m in love with you, Link,” he finishes.

Link waits for the punchline, the gotcha, but all that happens is that Rhett starts squirming in obvious discomfort.

“Say something,” Rhett finally begs. Link clears his throat.

“Is that why you’ve been all - ” He twiddles his fingers to try and encompass Rhett’s behavior, “ - lately? In my space and… inappropriate and stuff.”

It’s ridiculous that Rhett looking offended is what makes Link believe him, believe the absolutely wild idea that Rhett is in love with him.

“Inappropriate,” Rhett repeats, disgusted. “I haven’t done anything - ”

“You keep insinuating,” Link reminds him. Rhett purses his lips.

“And you keep making it very clear that there’s nothing there.”

Link rolls his eyes. “Oh, excuse me,” he drawls. “Heaven forbid I make it clear that I’m faithful to my wife.”

“It’s 2019, man,” Rhett says, then breaks off to shake his head. “Nevermind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“No, what does the year have to do with anything? You have some prophetic vision you ain’t told me about?” Link throws up his hands. “This conversation is already batshit crazy, might as well let me have it.”

It’s Rhett’s turn to scoff. “You know I don’t mean anything like that.”

“Do I, Rhett? Because I’m pretty sure ten minutes ago I thought I was doing a bang up job of hiding my bisexuality from my business partner and apparently I missed that boat twenty years ago. I don’t know what the hell’s going on.”

“That’s nothing new,” Rhett mutters; before Link has a chance to bristle, he goes on. “I meant that it’s not, it’s not that unusual for married couples to not be monogamous, consensually. You know Mike - ”

“Oh shut it about Mike,” Link snaps, trying to ignore the zing of jealousy he gets whenever Rhett brings up friends that aren’t Link. He likes Mike, he does, but - shit, with the way this conversation is going? Link’s afraid Rhett’s going to tell him he experimented with some guy any second now, and if Link gets a name, he can’t guarantee he won’t commit some kind of crime.  

“You wanna bring up your life coach friend, next?” Link asks, as Rhett stares at him judgementally, like somehow Link’s the weird one in all this. “We’re not from here, Rhett, we can’t just decide to be - what, edgy LA new agers or swingers or whatever the hell it is you’re proposing.”

“Can’t we?”

Rhett looks almost pleading when Link makes himself meet his eyes. Link swallows down the fear, the anger, makes his voice as level as he can when he replies.

“I might have loved you since we were kids, Rhett, but I’m not… stupid, alright? Everything we have - the company, our families - it’s too important to risk being greedy.” Link stands up and steps back, mind made up, even as Rhett reaches for him.

It was never really a question, was it? They have families, they still have each other - they don’t need anything else.

“I lived with it this long and survived,” Link tells Rhett. “You can do the same.”

“Link,” Rhett says, ire rising again. “You can’t just ignore - ”

“I sure can,” Link interrupts. He gives Rhett his best cocky smile, or at least, the best one he can muster with his stomach churning like this. “You’ll get the hang of it sooner or later.”

“Don’t do this.” Rhett’s voice is low, angry, but Link can hear the current of desperation. He makes himself turn his back on it, on Rhett.

“Take the rest of the day off,” he suggests. “Cool off, get some distance. You’ll feel better.”

Link braces for the explosion, for the argument to continue, but when the floor creaks a few long moments later it’s just because Rhett’s walking past him. Link watches him go down the steep stairs without a backwards glance, listens to Rhett collecting his coat and keys.

Only when the door to the office all-but slams does Link sit back down, shaking.

Well, shit.

–

To say things are tense the next day isn’t giving them enough credit. Rhett and Link are professionals, have been working together for a long time. When the cameras start rolling, it’s like nothing ever happened: Rhett is all belly-laughs and sly comments and Link’s as exasperatedly fond as ever. They make it through three episodes before they break for lunch.

“You want to go to that - oh.”

When Link turns to his right, Rhett is gone. Link looks around to see who’s noticed the moment automatically, but with the studio lights still up it’s hard to tell.

“Fine,” he says to himself, sniffing. For a moment he considers asking Stevie to accompany him instead, but no, she knows him too well. The last thing Link needs is to talk about what happened, get well-meaning but misguided advice.

He finds himself at a loss for the first time in a long time. Should he just go get lunch by himself? Order something to the studio? Is Rhett going to be laying in wait to ambush him by his car, or in their office?

Link’s staring at the pockmarked desk and trying to figure out a plan of action when a familiar nasal voice jolts him out of his thoughts.

“You come here often?”

Alex is propped against Rhett’s side of the desk, arms crossed, eyes sparkling. Link laughs, honestly delighted, and gets up to drag his former employee in for a hug.

“That’s a bit rich, coming from you,” Link teases, grinning. “You don’t call, you don’t visit - unless there’s the promise of getting your twitter plugged, of course.”

Alex shrugs and looks down, a smile tugging at his own mouth.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he mumbles. “No episode this time, thank god. I don’t think anyone’s found the stun cane yet.”

“You were the one who hid it?” Link sits on the edge of the desk next to Alex, nudging him with his shoulder. “Good on you. It was only a matter of time before Kevin pitched another segment with the sole premise of torturing us.”

“I’m always looking out for you,” Alex says, cheeks round and rosy.

“Even when you’re not around,” Link agrees. He doesn’t know he’s going to keep talking until he does, a spontaneous, “That’s why I love you, man.”

Alex laughs, loud and pleased. 

“Don’t say that,” he warns, though he’s smiling. “Don’t give me hope.”

It’s a game, one they’ve always played, though when he’d still been a Mythical employee Link hadn’t been able to push in the same way Alex could. They’d talked about it a bit, perfunctory asides - tell me to stop if it’s not funny, if it makes you uncomfortable. Link could use a bit of a laugh, honestly, so he rests one hand on the desk behind Alex in order to lean in.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t invite you to lunch?” Link asks, tilting his head.

Alex’s wide eyes dart around Link’s face for a moment before he laughs again, sweetly.

“Well, as long as you’re paying…” He trails off, raising his eyebrows.

Something not unlike excitement twists warmly in Link’s belly and he has to take a step back mentally, switch gears to clap Alex companionably on the back. It’s the same song and dance Link’s been doing with Rhett all these years, though apparently, shit, he shouldn’t have bothered.

“Of course,” Link tells Alex magnanimously, pushing away the spark of annoyance thinking about Rhett’s lies of omission bring. “What kind of boss would I be, otherwise?”

There’s a sparkle in Alex’s eyes when Link risks meeting them again that suggests he knows what Link’s doing, that his heart his beating treacherously fast.

“A former one,” Alex answers, grinning, then: “Come on, I passed a taco truck on my drive over we can walk to.”

Link straightens up and starts to gesture for Alex to lead the way before he curses.

“My wallet’s in my jacket. You think they take contactless?”

“Maybe,” Alex hedges. “This isn’t a ploy to actually make me pay for our date, is it?”

Link hits Alex’s arm lightly with the back of his wrist.

“Don’t say that so loud,” he mutters under his breath, not sure if he’s fighting off a smile or a blush. “Some of these guys are new hires, don’t know the drill.”

Alex puts a hand to his chest performatively. “Are you ashamed of me, Link?” he asks, but it’s equally as quiet in deference to Link’s words.

Link bops him again, rolling his eyes. “Come on. My jacket’s in wardrobe. Tell me how you’ve been, man!”

They chat as they make their way through the building, and it does Link’s heart good to hear Alex gush about his new project, his fiance. Link’d been sad to see him go, but hey - Alex had done the right thing for him, and that’s what mattered most.

Some of the emotionality Link’s been suppressing since Rhett’d taken off the day before comes bubbling to the surface as Link’s shrugging his jean jacket on.

“You know,” he tells Alex, brow furrowing. “I’m proud of you. I really am. You’ve busted your ass to get where you are and - I’m proud of you.”

Alex’s face twists in a way Link’s only ever seen once, when Alex told had told them he was leaving. He’d cried, then, and Link can feel tears prick at his own eyes in anticipation. When Alex half-lifts his arms, Link wraps him into a hug without hesitation.

“This is absolutely mortifying,” Alex laughs into Link’s collar, voice pinched. “I’m crying on my former boss. Thanks, buddy.”

“No problem,” Link says, squeezing more tightly. Alex adjusts his arms around Link so he isn’t being crushed, grip sliding down Link’s back.

It’s a combination of being embarrassed about tearing up and the hug simply being at its end that has both of them stepping back quickly when the door swings open.

“Rhett!” Alex says, smiling even as he wipes surreptitiously at his face. Link’s heart shudders in his chest as he turns towards the door.

“Alex,” Rhett says, smiling, the perfect picture of politeness. “Glad to see you, man, how are things?” His hand is still on the doorknob, and though he’s grinning, Link can see the discomfort written all over him.

For God’s sake, nothing happened, Link wants to shout, but now’s hardly the time to get into a fight.

Beside him, Alex laughs. “They’ve been good, thanks. We were going to go to the taco truck a few blocks over, are you interested?”

Rhett’s smile twitches before he’s shaking his head. “No thanks. You take care!” He waves - actually fucking waves - before he’s backing out of the room and walking with measured strides away. Link wants to throw something after him, but makes himself pat down his pockets, make sure he has his wallet and phone, before slinging an arm around Alex.

“Lead the way,” he says, managing to fake cheerfulness a hell of a lot better than Rhett had. 

It’s not until they have the tacos in their hands that Alex drops the adorable chatter of the newly engaged.

“Rhett was acting weird, huh,” he says in the tone of voice that means less how strange was that and more you know why that was? For a long moment Link sincerely thinks about telling Alex to back off, but absence really has made the heart grow fonder, and Link can’t bear to be curt with him.

“We had a fight,” he says, shrugging. “Ain’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.”

He can feel Alex’s eyes on him and tries to appear entirely focused on his food, unconcerned with the lingering look or whatever he may have fought with Rhett about.

“I still watch GMM, you know,” Alex finally says. 

Link tries for brevity. “Glad to hear you’re a fan.”

“It’s weird,” Alex continues, undeterred. “Maybe I’m just projecting, but it seems like - ”

“Alex,” Link interrupts. “I - I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk about this.” He doesn’t look up as he says it, too afraid of seeing understanding on Alex’s face.

There’s a few beats of silence before Alex’s peppy, “Oh, dude, these are actually really good. I’ll trade you one for your carnitas?”

Relief shivers through Link, and they make it the rest of the way through lunch without mentioning Rhett again.

–

Link should have known the moment Alex showed up that there was a conspiracy.

As it is, he doesn’t know about it until he steps into the office and Feldman is sitting across Rhett on the couch.

“Mike,” Link says, more an accusation than a greeting. The single word is swallowed by the sudden and oppressive silence of a conversation stopped mid-sentence.

“Hey, Link,” Feldman says, and at least he gives Link the dignity of not pretending to try and wrap some imaginary discussion up with Rhett. He simply gives them both a nod and leaves out the door Link’s still holding open.

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” Link mutters, shutting it behind him. “What do you think tipped them off?”

Rhett shrugs, still picking at the takeaway Feldman had probably brought as a bribe. 

“Didn’t carpool this morning, and I took an Uber home in the middle of the day yesterday.”

Link winces. “Oh,” he says lamely. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot.”

“I figured,” Rhett says. It’s - mild, almost bland, a far cry from how hard he’d normally be complaining about Link stranding him without a ride. Link absolutely hates it, honestly. He’d feel better if Rhett were trying to argue that Link should repay him for the cab ride. As it is, Rhett’s just stabbing at his food intermittently without actually taking a bite.

If Rhett’s not eating, he’s apparently taking all this a lot worse than Link could have imagined.

“Look,” Link sighs, sitting in the seat Feldman had vacated. “I get that you’re - upset, and let down, but what is it that you even want to change in how we interact?”

Rhett raises his eyebrows as he looks up from his food, finally looking at Link. He looks unimpressed, but Link’ll take it.

“You can’t figure out what I could possibly want to do with you?” Rhett asks, mocking; Link feels his cheeks heat up but makes himself cross his legs primly, settle his hands on his knee.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, brother, but even if - if we were involved, it’s not like we would be screwing all the time.”

“Screwing,” Rhett repeats, lips twitching. Link sniffs.

“It’d be inappropriate - and maybe even illegal - to do anything here at the studio, and I don’t care how new age you think we can be, I’m not, I wouldn’t disrespect Christy or Jess by defiling anyone’s marital beds.”

“Point taken,” Rhett says, lifting his hands in surrender, though he doesn’t seem all that convinced or even slightly mollified.

“What is it, then?” Link presses. “Why - why the plans of confessing back home?”

Rhett sighs like Link’s being tiresome just by asking the question, but before Link can tell him off, Rhett’s answering anyways.

“Maybe I just wanted to love you and be loved in return, Link,” Rhett says, throwing up his hands again. “Maybe I just wanted to stop pretending that you’re not the most important man in my life and that there isn’t anything I don’t want to do with you.” He runs his fingers through his beard agitatedly and Link sees his mouth work around words he doesn’t say before, finally, Rhett hangs his head.

“Maybe I just want to know that you feel the same about me as I do about you.”

Where yesterday the confession had made Link’s stomach twist sourly, today he can feel it in his chest, his throat. Is nearly suffocated by the ache he’s kept such a tight grip on his entire life, held close and secret and safe. He’d felt it this morning, too, standing in his shower letting his entire routine get thrown off as he had a quiet weep for the things he couldn’t have.

“I do,” Link says, mortified to realize his voice has gone tight and hoarse with the force of his emotion. “I - I feel the same way you do, Rhett. You know I’ve always… of course I do, Rhett.”

“No,” Rhett says quietly. “No, I don’t think you do, because - because when I realized the sheer magnitude of everything I felt for you - ” Rhett’s voice cracks, and when he clears his throat it’s practically a growl.  “The first thing I did was tell Jessie, because it felt fucking unfaithful to love you that much.”

Rhett’s voice is wavering by the end, each word sounding more forced out than the last; Link blinks at him as the panic starts to rise.

“You told Jess?” he finally manages, voice barely a whisper. Rhett looks away, cheeks jumping as he clenches his teeth, but he still nods.

Link’s stomach flips over and he almost vomits right there and then. If Rhett told Jessie, there’s no fucking way that Jessie didn’t tell Christy, and if Christy knows, oh god, if Christy knows - 

He has no idea if he manages to say anything to explain why he jumps up and leaves or if he does it in silence, doesn’t know if anyone tries to speak to him on the way out of the building. Link’s entire world has narrowed down to the need to get home, to see his wife, to try and explain.

When his arm is grabbed before he can make it into his car, Link almost throws a punch. He almost does again when he turns and sees that it’s Rhett.

“Let go of me,” Link hisses, less to avoid being overheard and more because he cannot physically get enough air to scream it at Rhett instead.

Rhett does not let go. Rhett, in fact, brings up his other hand to grip both of Link’s shoulders and takes a half-step closer so that their chests are almost touching.

“I told Jessie three years ago,” he says lowly, shaking Link. “Twenty-sixteen. She hasn’t told Christy anything, Link, I made her swear.”

Link wants to ask why he should trust Rhett, why he should trust Rhett’s wife, why he shouldn’t deck him right here and now for jeopardizing Link’s marriage. As it is, he just stares, shaking with rage and fear. 

“You have to breathe,” Rhett says, still just as soft. “I promise you, Link, I wouldn’t - I know what she means to you. I didn’t - I didn’t say anything about what I knew. Link, I promise, it’s okay. You can still go home and talk to Christy yourself but - but wait a few minutes, please, until you’ve calmed down. You can’t drive like this.”

There’s acid in Link’s throat, fire in his lungs that’ll burn him up if he doesn’t get it out.

“Fuck you,” he says, voice barely making it out around the fear and the anger. Rhett still flinches like Link’s shouting it in his face. “You know - you know how much it my parents’ divorce fucked my life up - ”

“Link, I know - ”

“And you have the nerve to say to me that I - because I didn’t want to risk my kids’ happiness and wellbeing - ”

“I’m sorry,” Rhett whispers. He looks it, at least, regretful enough that Link can close his eyes and breathe through the rest of the outrage. To be in love with your best friend since you were a teenager terrified of being found out and beaten is one thing. Link’s had to deal with finding out that best friend fucking  knew for the past twenty years and that it was, apparently, requited, both in the last twenty four hours. He’s exhausted and confused and has a headache and he’s mad.

“You suck,” Link tells Rhett hoarsely, sincerely. Rhett lets out a long breath and finally lets Link go.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’m working on it.”

Link leans against his car heavily. “You don’t suck,” he sighs. “I’m just mad at you. Don’t - don’t think that you suck, or that I think you do. You do things that suck, sometimes, but…” Link waves his hand vaguely. “I’m still in love with you.”

Rhett makes a small sound. “You - you don’t have to say it,” he rasps. “I was being selfish, before, wanting some sort of declaration or action or something - ”

“You were trying to provoke me,” Link says, because - it’s true, and he recognizes it now that he’s more out of the moment as something both he and Christy were guilty of early on in their marriage. Feeling neglected? Hey, if you started an argument about your partner not loving or appreciating you, you could get affirmed real quick. 

Before Rhett can say something else cutting himself down, Link reaches up and pushes him lightly.

“You wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been a jerk and shut you down like I did,” he says, because - it’s true, of course it’s true, but - 

“I don’t know how this is supposed to work,” Link tells Rhett honestly, voice cracking. “Even just having to know that you - ” Link can’t make himself say the words when they’re not safe in their office. He meets Rhett’s eyes instead to ensure he understands before going on miserably. “It’s hard, you know? I can’t stop double and triple guessing myself. How the hell did you - three years you knew that you…?”

Rhett laughs roughly and comes to lean beside Link on the car.

“Yeah. Yeah, after uh - we stayed in that cabin to finish the Buddy System script. First day when we got back I uh… spilled the beans.”

“Wow,” Link manages. “That’s - that’s a long time.”

Rhett runs a hand through his beard and shrugs. “Not as long as - how long’s it been for you?”

Link still doesn’t trust the parking lot; knowing that their employees had picked up on the altercation in the first place and were trying to intervene, he wouldn’t be surprised if they’re eavesdropping. It’s - it’s hard to imagine they won't know what Rhett and Link have been hissing at each other about, but as long as there’s plausible deniability…

“That’s different,” Link finally says with a shrug. “That was easy, most of the time, because - it was impossible, right? I’ve always been so sure of it that it’s never been that hard." 

Rhett sighs. "I shouldn’t have told you, then none of this would be an issue.”

“You tried to tell me it was a bad idea,” Link reminds Rhett tiredly. “It takes two to burn a bridge, brother.” He regrets the choice of words immediately, as the fear that’s been plaguing Link since lunch swells up around him.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Rhett says, and it’s firm, more certain than anything either of them have said in two days.

“Yeah,” Link echoes, though he’s afraid. “Yeah - I’m - I think I have to go home.” His breathing is back under control, but his stomach is churning unpleasantly and Link knows it’s not going to go away unless he bites the bullet and - and faces the music, so to speak.

Rhett doesn’t say anything, seems torn when Link looks over to him. When he meets Link’s eyes they’re pinched but determined.

“If there’s anything I can do, I’ll have my phone on me. And it's… whatever you two talk about, or decide, it’s - it’s fine. We’ll be fine.”

Link wants to pitch a worst case scenario but he’s too nervous to be contrary, doesn’t want to speak his own downfall into existence. 

“I’ll text you when I can, man, tell you how it went,” he promises. Rhett’s stiff shoulders ease, and he straightens up at the same time as Link.

They don’t hug, don’t generally even say goodbye. Why would they? But Rhett’s arms are around Link before he can register Rhett stooping to hug him.

“I love you, man,” Rhett mumbles.

Link returns the embrace loosely for two, three seconds before he steps back, unspeakably uncomfortable. Twenty freaking years not letting himself enjoy Rhett’s touch too much is - hard to get past in two days.

“You too,” Link offers lamely. Rhett blows out an almost laugh and steps back, hesitates, then returns to the office without a backwards glance.

Link drives home, thinking the entire way of what to tell Christy.