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Rhett has had his suspicions and, if he's honest with himself, hopes for years. When Link comes out to him during their junior year of college, his heart skips a beat. He accepts Link with open arms, no questions asked. Not for lack of wanting to ask them. Do you like me? dies on his tongue a million times over.
Once he's shared with Rhett, he doesn't fight it, doesn't try to hide himself. Their friends pick it up and it takes off like wildfire; suddenly it seems like the whole school knows. Guys start hitting on him and Rhett struggles to observe in silence. He tries to treat like when they'd go out to flirt with girls, maybe egg Link on, but it leaves him with the feeling of lead in his belly.
It's even worse the handful of times that he catches him kissing some guy. Doesn't matter if he knows him or not. His gut is immediately tangled in knots and he has to make himself scarce.
Gosh he hopes Link doesn't think he's judging him everytime he clams up, changes the subject. He can't stomach the thought of Link with any man that's not him.
When word gets around about the New Year's party being planned, Rhett daydreams of kissing Link at midnight.
Even knowing that Link is interested in men, he can't muster the courage. Instead, he nonchalantly asks him, "You up for that shindig at Daniel's Thursday night?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"
To which Rhett just shrugs and hides himself in the ham and cheese hot pocket he's inhaling.
"Man, we're so late. Every time. Why do you have to make us late?"
Rhett tugs on the hem of his button up where it sticks out beneath his coat, a little self-conscious. He hates walking into a place as it is. With his height, he attracts too much attention. At least with a party in full swing, he might be able to sneak in. Now he's just trying to get them to the party before eleven. They'll make it if Link stops slowing down to rag on him. "It's fashionably late, right?" Link spins on his heel and Rhett heads him off, "Come on, man, just keep walking, we're almost there."
He huffs and does as requested. The building is in sight. He imagines he can hear the bass of the music already. It's a frat house, deceiving with it's bland beige siding, easier than trying to spread a big party out between different dorm rooms. Link's bounding up the steps and the enthusiasm warms something in him. He follows without much thought. Until a wall of vibration hits him square in the chest.
Rhett acclimates to the sensation of having his innards jarred about and they slip in as unnoticed as he'd hoped. Link flashes him a wide grin and he can't tell if his heart skips or an overzealous beat shakes him to his core. They wind their way through the crowd until they locate drinks. It doesn't take long. He considers the merits of the most certainly spiked punch and a beer. His dilemma is solved when Link shoves a cup already wet with condensation into his sweaty palm. Beer it is.
He follows Link without much thought, observing their peers. It's clear they've all had a head start, most everyone is well on their way to drunk. Best get to catching up. He takes a couple big swallows of the chilled beer. Nothing special but it'll do the trick.
Link has led them to a beer pong table. "You wanna play, man?" Great. Link's a partner to have when you want to get drunk, considering his poor aim. They have a long standing agreement to split the drinking regardless of how they both play.
Rhett downs another swig. "Yeah o'course."
They watch the end of the current match, cheering for that guy from calculus as he sinks the winning shot. More raucous celebration and Rhett absently helps reset the table.
Link's finishing his beer as Rhett offers him an already beer-soaked ping pong ball. He grimaces a little. "Couldn'ta got a fresh one?"
He just shrugs.
Accepting his fate, Link settles his sights on the table, zeroing in on a target. He tosses the ball and it bounces off to the side. "Shit."
The reigning champs land a ball cleanly into one red solo cup. It floats innocently on the surface. Rhett scoops the ball out and chugs the beer without comment. His turn. His ping pong ball lands with a satisfying plop. The opposing team drinks as he stacks his own cup inside the one he'd downed and continues to nurse his drink.
Another ball in one of their cups. Link snatches it up before Rhett can even think of reaching for it – sometimes he skews the tally and drinks a little more. He's bigger, that's his default argument. Fine. Link gulps it down without incident. He lines up another shot. It hits the rim of one of the outside cups but ultimately goes wide, hits the table and flies off to the floor. Someone in the crowd boos and Rhett throws the stink eye around. Asshole.
He looks back and there's another ball in another cup. His shoe sticks to the floor, a product of spilled beer, as he cuts Link off to grab it. "I want that one."
Link scowls but doesn't say a word.
"Pussy! Make him drink it!"
Rhett nearly inhales the last slug of beer. He growls and glares around. He mutters under his breath, "Fucker. Shut your face." A nudge to his foot centers him again.
"It's fine," he whispers, leaning to reach a ball, an excuse to get close enough to be discreetly heard.
He's just exhaling, trying to shake off the temper, when the slur seems to creep sluggishly into his awareness. The second it clicks, his vision flashes red. His temper is nothing new. This blood boiling rage, red filter on the world, however, that is new. He doesn't realize he's moving, doesn't feel the impact when he knocks the fucker flat on his back. The only thing that keeps him from diving after him for more is the hands on his back, around his arm. His vision swims, Link's face ripples through, heartbreakingly blue eyes piercing into his.
He sucks in air, everything a buzz around him. Link's mouth is moving but the words aren't making it through. He looks again at the guy on the ground, stunned and bleeding from his nose. Rhett feels a raw, animalistic sense of satisfaction seeing the crook of a clearly broken nose, flesh already purple and swelling. The punk deserves worse.
Link drags him away and everyone seems content to let them go. He's stumbling over his feet until frigid winter air shocks him into the present. He gasps, shivering as he processes everything that has taken place. A sick sense of dread coils in his belly. Rhett trails behind Link like a lost puppy, down the street until it's just them and some old snow on the edges of the sidewalk under the streetlamps. One down the way flickers and he stares at it, his tongue feeling too thick in his mouth as he struggles to explain himself. "Link, I – oh gosh, oh no – I can –.”
That dark mop of hair pivots to present him with Link's face. "Rhett. Shut up."
He blinks a little owlishly.
"That jerk deserved to be put in his place but," he falters, gnawing on his lip a moment. "I appreciate you stickin' up for me and everything, I really do. But maybe don't hit a guy next time? Cause let's be real, there will be a next time. There's idiots everywhere. Just." He's pacing now, hands moving to articulate what he can't manage with words. "You can't just punch every person who decides to be bigoted to me. Lookit where we live, brother, it's gonna keep being a thing. Not everyone's as – "
He can't listen to him anymore and he knows there's no talking over him. Rhett hesitates to do anything physical for startling Link, or, heaven forbid, hurting him. He takes a deep breath and reaches both hands out, extending and curling his fingers, jerking them back and forth for one solid unnoticed minute. Finally, no end in sight to Link's rambling, he catches him lightly by a shoulder. It doesn't stop Link, he's just jumbling his words nonsensically and turning to look at Rhett with high eyebrows.
Rhett's face wrinkles a little as he slowly gathers Link's weakly flailing wrists into both of his hands. That does it. Link trails off with his mouth hanging open. "Would you let me say something? Gosh, Link." He's just frozen in his grasp. "I'm not sorry I hit him." Link starts to form more words with his mouth so he charges straight ahead before he can gain any traction. "I'm not sorry about that, but I am sorry it happened at all. That there's stupid people in the world who don't know when to keep their mouths shut. That don't know how to mind their own business or just be a decent human being." He has to pause, swallowing as he watches Link take his arms back. His face turns down though it does nothing to hide his face. "I'm sorry it upsets you to see me lose my temper like that."
Link scrubs a hand over his face, "I know you have a temper, I don't mind if you feel the need to try to, what? To protect me? I get that, I really do."
"Sorry we had to leave the party."
"S'okay, it was really loud anyway."
"You still wanted to be there."
Link jerks one shoulder up. "It's not a big deal."
Rhett's not really buying it, but he lets it go with a long sigh. "Now what?"
"Just wander for a while? Don't want to go home yet."
"Wasn't there a hot chocolate thing supposed to be going on tonight?"
"Oh yeah. By the student center?"
"I think so."
"Let's go."
They start in that direction, hands tucked in their pockets away from the chill. They don't talk, but it's not a bad silence. Just a tired, centering quiet. There's a few kids, clearly not the party crowd type, gathered around a folding table covered in little styrofoam cups.
"Happy New Year!" They're greeted warmly, a girl far too bubbly for the chilled air and late hour rushing up to help them with fresh cups.
They leave a few minutes later, hands curled around pleasantly warm cups of rich chocolate with little marshmallows afloat. They head vaguely in the direction of their dorm, effortlessly falling in step with one another.
Rhett has to stop Link from drinking too soon at least five times before they find a well lit bench. They settle in the middle where the lingering snow has been brushed away, shoulders bumping. Link takes a tiny sip and grimaces, sticking his tongue out. "Burnt my tongue."
He laughs, knocking his knee into Link's. "What'd I tell you the whole way here?"
"Didn't wanna wait any longer."
"Ain't gonna be able to taste it now."
"Sure I will."
Rhett shakes his head, amused. They babble on about everything and nothing, sipping hot cocoa once it's below mouth-burning temperatures.
With a twinge in his chest, Rhett finally admits, "This isn't how I hoped our New Year's would go."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You had some big plan?"
He shrugs. "Not really a plan. Just ideas, you know?"
"What kinda ideas?"
Rhett scuffs his shoe on the ground, sitting his drink on the bench beside him. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to be honest. "I thought it might be nice – now don't laugh at me! Kinda thought about getting a nice buzz and kissing at midnight."
"Like you ain't kissed a girl at midnight?"
"Might not have had a girl in mind."
"You woulda found one."
"That's not what I meant."
Link squints at him over the rim of his cup. "You're not drunk."
He's right. Three beers is barely a buzz at his size and that had to be over an hour ago by now. He's just wondering what time it is when there's the sound of cheers from buildings nearby. A couple small poppers echo. "Guess we missed midnight."
Link surges over to grab him by the shirt and kiss him square on the mouth. He pulls back almost immediately. "Tell me I read that right, gosh, I wanna kiss you again, please."
Rhett forgoes words, gently places Link's cup a safe distance to the side and hauls him back into his space. He holds him close, cradles the back of his head, fingers deep in fluffy, dark hair. It's enough of a kiss that they'd be getting catcalls with an audience. Luckily, it's just them and the fresh snow glittering in the glow of the streetlights. Little fireworks pop and fizzle in the background, a perfect backdrop to the sparks between the two of them.
They part again and Link hugs Rhett like he's the most precious thing. "You're not kidding?"
Rhett snorts into his hair, chases it with a kiss. "Wouldn't kid." He rocks the two of them, his blood singing. "Been working up the nerve to tell you." He giggles a little, punch-drunk on kissing. "Meant to actually talk, sorry."
"Don't apologize." His cold nose finds itself nestled into the side of Rhett's neck. He snuffles quietly in his ear.
"You sniffin' me?"
"You smell nice."
A quiet laugh shakes him. "You're nuts, I been sweatin' since you dragged me outside."
"I don't care."
His arms squeeze Link tight. "You ready to go inside? You're cold."
" 'm always cold."
"All the more reason to go in."
"I might have another good reason." His hands stray down Rhett's back to the edge of his waistband.
Suddenly Rhett's cold, pink cheeks are warm and pink. "Oh! You sure?"
He's a little bashful. "Yeah. I mean, maybe? Doesn't have to be tonight, you know." Now he's red too, backpedaling. What is it that he always says? Talk fast, apologize often? Yeah that. "Maybe we can just, I dunno. Just go home and cuddle?"
"Yeah, I'd like that." Rhett holds Link close, loathe to break the moment. A small gust of wind has them both shivering and sparks him into action. One last squeeze and he coaxes Link to his feet, ushering him toward their building. He scoops up their cups and scurries behind him, face split in the widest grin. This may not have been how he imagined his New Year's wish coming true, but this somehow fits them even better.