Work Text:
Link is stupendously, spectacularly, beautifully drunk, and Rhett can’t stop staring as he weaves his way through his living room. He has a beer in one hand and he uses the other to keep his balance, long fingers curling around the couch, the wobbly lamp on one end table, and the shoulders of whoever’s giggling kids pass him by. Rarely does Rhett get to see his best friend like this, loose and utterly carefree. Now that it’s Christmas break and their work for another year is done, Link is radiant as he relearns how to let a year of stress roll off him in waves.
He is stupidly, blissfully drunk, and Rhett can’t wait to talk to him.
By the time Link makes his way to Rhett’s side, Rhett is beaming. He can’t help it; the way Link wobbles on unsteady legs is endearing. His eyes are half-lidded, glittering under fluttering eyelashes. There’s a wet spot on the knee of his jeans, the remnants of a beer Rhett watched him spill on himself a few minutes before. He was trying to flirt with Christy, of all things (he was doing quite nicely before he spilled his drink all over the two of them, but Rhett isn’t going to tell him that), just like he always did once he got a few drinks in him. It was nice to watch him from across the room as he sweet talked his wife like he was trying to woo her for the first time, his body turned towards hers.
“Hey, Rhett,” Link says. “Saw you lookin’ at me.” He winds an arm around Rhett’s middle and leans for a brief moment into his side. Before Rhett can return the hug, Link pulls away. He tips his head back to look Rhett in the face, a slow smile creeping up on his. “Why were you lookin’ at me?”
“You’re funny,” Rhett replies. “She’s already married to ya, brother. You don’t hafta put on all that charm for her.”
Link shrugs. “She likes it,” he says. When he drinks, his thick Southern drawl slips back into his voice. It reminds Rhett of the boy he used to be. On a night like tonight, New Year’s Eve on a year well lived, it hits Rhett especially hard. “And hey, what was that? You think I’m charming? Why, I never!” Link bats his lashes at Rhett and grunts as he gets an elbow in the gut for it.
“Charming, my ass,” Rhett replies. He gives his head a shake and cranes his neck to get a look at the clock in the kitchen. It’s an hour to midnight and two families chase each other around Link’s house. The Neals and the McLaughlins fill the house to the brim as another year begins to end around them. Link laughs to himself at Rhett’s side as their wives talk animatedly on the sofa; Jessie moved to fill the space Link occupied when he got up to meet Rhett in the kitchen. And Rhett feels more satisfied than he has in weeks. There’s nothing to do, nothing to plan, nothing waiting for them once the party winds down. There’s just Rhett and his family, Rhett and his best friend, and a bottle of champagne that’s yet to be opened.
Rhett blames the enticement of the bottle in the fridge for what he says next. “Hey, whaddya say we leave the girls to talk and you and me go upstairs for a while?”
Link fixes him with the shrewdest gaze he can manage with the beers under his belt making him fuzzy and slow. He only looks at Rhett in confusion for a moment before nodding. Understanding crosses his features as he breaks into a lazy smile. He always knows what Rhett wants before Rhett even wants it. Always.
“Chris, me and Rhett are gonna go get drunk upstairs!” Link says as he drags the champagne from the fridge. It weighs him down and he makes a show of lugging the bottle up onto the counter.
“You’re already drunk, babe!” Christy shoots back.
“Not as drunk as you!” Link teases, and Christy gives him a would-be-withering look from the sofa. She can’t hide the affection in her face, not even for a second.
“Have fun, boys!” she replies, waving her hand as if to tell them to get on with it and give the rest of them some peace and quiet. She doesn’t mean that, the words she doesn’t say, but Rhett takes the special occasion champagne flutes Link hands him and gets on with it, anyway. Link trips on his way up the stairs and Rhett catches him by one hip with his free hand. The answering laugh he gets in exchange for reminding Link to be careful, for God’s sake, is the best thing Rhett has heard all night.
“You be careful!” Link says over his shoulder. He leads the way and Rhett follows, two pairs of socked feet padding up the stairs. Link hesitates at the top and Rhett bumps into his back. Again, Rhett finds his hand closing over one of Link’s bony hips and again, Link answers the touch with a gentle laugh. “C’mon, man,” Link says with his back to Rhett. “That bottle and my bed are callin’ my name.” When he throws himself into his carefully made marital bed, Rhett follows.
Rhett always follows. And on a night like tonight, New Year’s Eve on their best year yet, it feels good to know that Link will never lead him astray.
Link pops open the bottle and the cork hits the wall. He sits cross legged as he pours two glasses of sparkling pink champagne, and it’s easier for Rhett to mirror him than do anything else. Face to face, nearly knee to knee, they hold their glasses in front of their faces and look at one another through twin streams of rising bubbles.
“Whaddya wanna toast to?” Rhett asks.
Link doesn’t hesitate. “Us.”
“Us, like, all of us under this roof? Or us, as in…?”
“The two of us,” Link says. He peers at Rhett over the rim of his glass, his eyes bleary. It’s only because Link is already drunk that Rhett manages to say what’s on his mind.
“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot lately,” Rhett says, “about us. It’s been such a good year that I can’t help it, yanno? Can’t help but think of what’s to come. And where we’ve been.” He means to say more but Link cuts him off by downing his drink and holding his glass out for another. Rhett scoops the bottle off Link’s nightstand and refills his glass.
“Tell me, then,” Link says. “Tell me what’s to come.” It’s only because he’s slurring that Rhett follows his lead, swallows his drink, and pours himself more. Link is eager, leaning forward, so close that Rhett can feel the heat radiating off his skin. (It’s only because Link is so close that Rhett has to take a deep breath before he speaks.)
“We’re going to get better and better, brother,” Rhett says.
“Knew that,” Link teases. “Hit me.” He holds his glass out and Rhett obeys. Once both glasses are full, Rhett raises his eyebrows at Link. He takes the hint and clinks his glass against Rhett’s. “Tell me, Rhett, what’re we gonna do together this year?” There’s something heavy in his voice that Rhett blames on the alcohol. Even so, his own voice wavers as he tries to find an answer.
“We’re gonna do things we’ve never done before,” Rhett replies. To that, Link gives a small cheer.
“Ah, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he says. When he exhales, his breath washes hot across Rhett’s face. It’s only because he smells like Link, albeit dripping in cheap champagne, that Rhett doesn’t recoil. “What kinda things?”
Rhett empties the bottle between their glasses and places it gingerly on Link’s bedroom carpet. When he straightens back up, his knees brush Link’s. “We’ll have to figure that out together, I guess,” Rhett says. He’s dizzy, the beginnings of a buzz tugging at the sharpest corners of his vision and turning them to static. But he’s not a goner, not like Link, who sloshes the rest of his glass onto his white sheets and doesn’t seem to mind. Carefully, Rhett extricates the glass from his slender fingers and drops it beside the empty bottle on the floor. This time, he sways when he sits up. Link’s hand lands on his knee as if to steady him, whether he needs it or not. Rhett grants himself a long moment to marvel at the way Link’s long fingers look wrapped around his knee before he tells him to stop being weird and let go.
“Just makin’ sure you weren’t gonna fall off the bed,” Link giggles in reply. He’s not just drunk. He’s blitzed. He smiles benignly at Rhett, the two of them sitting uncomfortably face to face. It’s only because his damn face is so open that Rhett suggests they move.
“C’mere, you’re gonna fall off the bed,” Rhett says. When he crawls across Link’s bed to lean against the headboard, Link follows him. Rhett can hear the kids downstairs as they chatter, full of Christmas candy and excitement for a new year. He feels much the same. There’s something special about the year to come; he can feel it in his bones. He’s even more sure of it when, without seeking permission or an invitation, Link nestles himself neatly under Rhett’s arm. He cuddles close, hiccupping and giddy, and he tucks himself in. Sweat dampened hair tickles Rhett’s nose and he can feel the sharp press of Link’s glasses against his collarbone as Link eases himself into every bit of space between them. It’s only because he’s such a goner that Rhett allows it. Link always seeks safety in Rhett; what kind of friend would Rhett be if he pulled away now?
Link is quiet for so long that Rhett assumes he’s fallen asleep. He waits it out, listening to the steady sound of his best friend’s breathing. It’s nice. Rhett’s buzz creates a soft heat in his limbs as he cradles Link to his chest. It’s quiet. Link breaks the silence first; he drapes one arm across Rhett’s middle and heaves a sigh that could shake the moon from the sky.
“What is it?” Rhett whispers. Link’s not asleep and there’s no need to whisper, none at all. But the moment calls for it, somehow. Rhett gives in to the instincts that tell him to be soft, to be gentle, to be slow. He’s rewarded with the most beautiful, sweet sound of contentment falling from Link’s lips.
“Tell me,” Link says, “everything you want from this year.” He slurs, his tongue twisting up, but Rhett understands just fine.
“I wanna have our best year yet,” Rhett says. “I wanna be better than ever before.”
“Hmm…” Link hums in reply. Keep going, the humming says. Rhett listens.
“I wanna keep learnin’,” Rhett says. “Everything there is to learn. I want to think of somethin’ crazy, somethin’ we think can’t be done, and I want you and me to figure out a way to do it.”
“You’re crazy,” Link breathes into the crook of Rhett’s neck. “There hasta be…a point where there’s no more up. Dontcha think we might be gettin’ there soon?”
“Never,” Rhett replies. He’s firm, resolute where Link is unsure. He makes sure Link hears the certainty in every word he says. “You and me? We can do anything. And we’re gonna keep doin’ everything we ever wanted. Don’t doubt that for a second. We’re never gonna run outta up, not s’long as we keep doin’ this together.” He can feel himself slipping up, slurring as deeply as Link, but he doesn’t care. Neither does Link. Rhett’s best friend nuzzles closer, his hand sliding up to splay on Rhett’s chest. His long fingers curl into the front of Rhett’s sweater as Link does nothing but breathe for a while.
It’s half an hour till midnight and Rhett has a few more things he has to say.
“Keep on believing in up with me, all right?” he asks of Link. A chuckle escapes the man curled up at his side.
“Forever and ever,” Link agrees in his dopey, sleepy voice. It’s only because he sounds half asleep that Rhett meets Link’s hand where it rests on his chest. His hand makes Link’s look so small. The surge of protectiveness Rhett feels when Link turns his hand to slot their palms together gives Rhett courage.
“I love you,” Rhett says. It’s not like he hasn’t said it a million times before in a million different ways. But this is the close of their best year yet, and Rhett needs Link to know he’s still with him. Forever and ever.
“I love ya too, bo,” comes Link’s soft reply. He sighs, long and low, and just for a beat, he squeezes Rhett’s hand. “Wanna know what I want from this year?” He’s hard to understand, drawling and tongue-tied, but Rhett hears him just fine.
“Of course I do,” he replies.
It takes Link a minute to gather his thoughts from the champagne streaked corners of his brain, but in the end, he finds them. “I wanna be brave,” Link says. “I wanna stop thinkin’ so much. I wanna take a turn bein’ the…” He pauses to hiccup and laugh at himself, his fingers flexing in Rhett’s. He throws one leg up over both of Rhett’s and shimmies his hips, fitting their bodies more neatly together in the bed. “Bein’ the one to make the first move,” he finishes.
After that, Rhett doesn’t dare say a word.
He waits.
Link passes the time by extricating his hand from Rhett’s and digging his fingers into Rhett’s ribs. He laughs when Rhett squirms. “Quit wigglin’,” Link says. “’M comfy.”
Rhett doesn’t bother to tell him to cut out the tickling. He likes Link like this. He likes Link loose-lipped and happy, cuddly and bold. He doesn’t want the moment to break. Not yet. Not before midnight. He stays as still as he can as if any motion would frighten Link away. For all he knows, it could.
“Know what else I want?” Link asks.
“Whaddya want, Link?”
“I wanna learn to juggle,” Link replies. Rhett is laughing before he has the chance to stop and think. Link grumbles as Rhett’s laughter shakes him and the bed. But Rhett is leaning more towards drunk than tipsy and he can’t stop laughing once he starts. Link leans up on his elbow, claps a hand over Rhett’s mouth, and starts to laugh with him, the two of them tangled up together on Link’s bed with fifteen minutes to go until midnight. Somehow, Link is the first to gather himself, and he leans in close to Rhett’s face to tell him he’s not finished. “You didn’t lemme finish my damn sentence, man,” Link says. It’s only because his wide blue eyes are somber that Rhett swallows his laughter down and listens. “I wanna learn to juggle…”
“Fire?” Rhett teases around Link’s hand.
“No!” Link scolds.
“Bowling balls?”
“Rhett, no!”
“Dynamite? Grenades? Knives?” Before Rhett knows it, Link is on top of him, using all his weight to hold Rhett down. He quiets, Link’s hand still clasped over his mouth, and he waits for Link to move.
“Rhett, listen for once, willya?” Link looks serious and sweet in the meager light offered by his bedside lamp. He shifts and pins Rhett down by his wrists and by his hips. Loose locks of raven hair fall over his face as he sits back on his haunches. “Are you listening?”
“Yeah, brother, I’m listening.” For a long moment, Rhett gets nothing for his patience. But he’s listened to Link his entire life. With just over ten minutes to go until a new year, Rhett can wait to listen to a little bit more.
“I’ve never been good at balancing,” Link says. He accentuates his point by weaving where he sits. His bony butt digs into Rhett’s thighs, but nothing in the world could make Rhett ask him to move. “Balancing work…and the kids…and Christy…and, and…” Link trails off and tips his head far back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “And you. This year, I want to learn to be better at balancing.”
It’s only because he can hardly sit without swaying that Rhett takes him by the hips to hold him steady.
“Thank you,” Link sighs. And then, “I know it’s crazy, man, but I wanna spend more time with you this year. Not…not workin’, or thinking about workin’. I wanna spend more time with you as…as just your best friend. I wanna…” He makes a vague gesture towards the window and Rhett knows exactly what he means before he says it. “Go camping, just the two of us. I wanna, oh I dunno.” He buries his face in his hands, clumsy fingers casting his glasses aside. Rhett scoops them up and slips them on. The sight of Rhett in his smudgy, worn out glasses never fails to make Link smile.
“Lookit me,” Rhett says. Slowly, Link peeks through his fingers, and just like Rhett expects, his anxious face breaks into a smile. “There you are.”
“Here you are,” Link replies.
“Finish your thought, Link.”
“I did.”
“What else do you wanna do with me this year? ‘Cause whatever it is, Link, it’s yours.”
Link lowers his hands and drops them onto his own thighs. “I’m talkin’ and talkin’, brother, and you’re not listening.”
“I hear you,” Rhett replies. It’s only because there’s five minutes to midnight and they’re running out of time that Rhett sits up to cradle Link in his lap. Link makes a soft sound of surprise. His lips fall open and his hands fly to Rhett’s shoulders as he shifts, testing new ground, getting his bearings. Rhett feels just as lost as Link looks as the year begins to pass them by.
“You hear me,” Link whispers into the scant inches between them. “But you need to listen.”
Rhett puzzles over every word Link says. What is it he’s missing? What in the world is it that has Link so sincere, so open, so still? “Link, what…?”
Link answers the question before Rhett gets to ask it. He takes Rhett’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing carefully across Rhett’s cheekbones. He takes a breath. And then he kisses him. It’s only because the kiss gifted to him by Link is the softest kiss he’s ever received that Rhett finds it in him to kiss Link back. Link tastes beautifully like himself, like Rhett thought he might. The kiss is chaste but the noise of protest Link makes when they break apart is not.
“Rhett…” Link sighs. Rhett wants to answer him, to ask him a lifetime of questions, but a voice comes from downstairs to remind them that there’s a world beyond the closed bedroom door.
“Boys!” Jessie calls from the bottom of the stairs. “The ball’s about to drop, get your cute butts down here right now or you’ll miss it!”
Link looks at Rhett and for a moment, Rhett expects him to run. To keep him from doing so, Rhett digs his fingers into his best friend’s hips. Whatever this is, whatever just passed between them, Rhett wants to keep Link firmly here. With him.
Link surprises him.
He leans in, captures Rhett’s lips, and gives him the second softest kiss of his life. And then he’s gone. He’s up and across the room, he’s opening the door, and he’s leaving Rhett in his wake for the thousandth time. All Rhett can do is follow. He catches Link by the wrist at the top of the stairs and yanks him back.
The kids are counting down in the living room and Rhett is out of time. “What was that?” he asks as Link wavers. He’s beautifully drunk and just plain beautiful, and he smiles soft and slow.
“A kiss, Rhett,” he replies. “Gimme back my glasses. I’m not missin’ the ball drop for nothin’.” When he plucks his own glasses from Rhett’s face, Rhett follows Link’s hand with his own. He cradles Link’s cheek in his palm with thirty seconds to go until midnight. Link’s bright eyes slip closed and Rhett takes the only chance he’s going to get.
He presses his lips to Link’s, tastes him for the shadow of a moment, and then he pulls away.
“Ten!” cheer the kids from bottom of the stairs.
“What are we doing, Link?” Rhett asks from the top.
“Dunno,” Link replies.
“Nine!” the kids and two wives shout.
“But we’re gonna spend the year figuring it out,” Rhett says. “Right?”
Under Rhett’s palm, Link nods. “Yes, baby,” he says. “Yes.”
Rhett doesn’t have time to puzzle over what the word baby means to the man pinned under his gaze. They have no time at all. Before he can speak, Link is gone again. Rhett follows him and they hit the living room just in time to see the year end all around them.
“Happy New Year!” the kids shriek, the pile of them throwing elbows and hugs on the couch. Christy and Jessie stand in the kitchen, watching the chaos of their children with twin smiles on their faces. Link wastes no time in winding his arm around his wife and smacking a kiss into her hair, and Rhett follows his lead. Jessie is radiant as Rhett gathers her up in his arms.
“What’re your resolutions this year, honey?” she asks, tipping her head back to look Rhett in the face. Rhett glances up at Link, at the devilish smile that awaits him, and he tells his wife the truth.
“To figure things out as I go along,” he tells her. “Whaddya think?”
“Sounds good to me,” Link cuts in. He stumbles as he tries his best to stand steady, and he beams as Rhett meets his eyes. “Can I borrow your husband for a second more?” he asks of Jessie. She grants him what he asks for. Christy and Jessie leave them in the kitchen to join the rowdy, overtired kids on the overcrowded living room sofa. Link follows his wife with bleary eyes until Rhett brings him back to the moment by calling his name.
“Link, hey,” Rhett breathes. Link chases the sound of his voice until one more time, their eyes meet.
“Hey,” Link replies. There’s a lot left unsaid, a lot left to talk about, and Rhett has no idea where to start. So he waits for Link to start it for him. He said he wants to start the year off by being brave, after all. And true to his word, he gives it all he’s got. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was thirteen years old, Rhett,” he says softly. He doesn’t tear his eyes from Rhett’s for a moment as he searches for the words to sum up twenty-five years of longing.
It’s only because there’s tears glistening on Link’s long eyelashes that Rhett refrains from telling him that he has always yearned for him too.
“Even if that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, I’m glad I did it,” Link says. He twists his hands together, fingers shaky, breath shuddery in his throat. He wavers, drunker than he probably should be, and Rhett knows what to say. For the first time all night, he knows exactly what to say.
“I am too.”
Link throws his arms around Rhett and buries his face in his chest. Rhett returns the clumsy embrace as best he can. Voice muffled by Rhett’s shirt, Link begins to babble what sounds like a cross between a prayer and an apology. Rhett is not surprised when tears wet his chest. He turns his body to shield Link from the living room, acting as a wall to keep him safe from questioning eyes. They ran out of time, it’s a brand new year, but Rhett still does his best to do right by his best friend.
“Whatever happens when you sober up, I promise you that it’s still you and me,” Rhett whispers. Link tightens his hold around Rhett’s middle as he speaks. “No matter how you feel in the morning, Link, it’s still the same. You and me, forever and ever. You hear me?”
Minutely, Link nods.
“But are you listening?”
Link’s quiet tears slip up into a laugh as he shakes his head, incredulous.
“That’s what I thought.” Rhett doesn’t want to pull away, not really, but it’s a new year and they have all the time in the world to figure this out. He’s too fuzzy around the edges to truly care about the impending morning. Who cares about January 1st when New Year’s Eve brings admissions, gentle hands, and brand new, beautiful fears?
As midnight comes and goes and the kids begin to wane, the house finally begins to quiet. Jessie and Christy work on cleaning up the kitchen as Rhett picks up the living room under Link’s less than watchful eye. He dozes on the loveseat as Rhett cleans up around him. He’s pretty like this, cheeks rosy from the alcohol, and Rhett allows himself to think so without wondering what that means. It’s only because he’s always known Link is beautiful that he lets himself finally think it without feeling any guilt.
Jessie catches Rhett when he leans close to a sleepy Link and presses a kiss into his sweaty hair. And she smiles.
Whatever happens when Link wakes up, whether he blanches or kisses Rhett or tries to run away, he’s already completed his resolution. He was the brave one, the one to take a leap. And Rhett won’t let him forget that.
When with one last lazy smile, Link falls asleep in the living room, Rhett leaves him alone. He busies himself by helping the girls with the dishes. But the third time he glances up to watch Link sleep from across the room, Christy smacks him smartly with a dishtowel.
“Go keep him company, darlin’,” she drawls. And it’s only because she’s sweet and soft as her husband that Rhett doesn’t hesitate to obey.
He holds Link close to his chest and falls headlong into daydreams of all the best things yet to come.