Chapter Text
Opening the door to a generic hotel room after a performance or a guest appearance has taken on a very specific meaning for Link. The response is practically pavlovian, his heart starting to race at the images that now fill his head at the sight of a hotel room, images of Rhett fucking into his mouth on the fresh, wide bed or into his hand in a spacious shower stall.
These days someone who works for them books the rooms, so they get two, and it would raise too many questions and eyebrows to suggest they share a room like they used to. They have crew and assistants traveling with them too, staying in adjacent rooms, remaining ever present at meals and in dressing rooms, always watching and listening. They really should be on their best behavior. But without fail, at the end of the day they find themselves lingering in a hallway by their respective doors, giving each other suggestive glances with nervous sentences trailing off midway in anticipation of one of them giving in.
This time it’s Rhett. Link admires his courage to dependably take the lead, even though he knows his eagerness to follow is just as predictable.
“I should take a shower,” Rhett declares, after a minute or two of the game of definitely-not-gay-chicken they’ve found themselves playing again. “I probably stink. But after that, do you wanna..?”
“Um, yeah.” Link scrapes the depths of his mind for a plausible excuse to hang out after a long day, on top of a whole week spent mostly together, and at a time way past their usual bedtimes. “We could…”
“Yeah, come over when you’re done.” Rhett interrupts, demonstrating no patience for any rambling fabrications at this hour, and Link grants him a flash of a crooked smile as a token of his gratitude.
Moments later Link is standing in the shower, already feeling his dick twitch in anticipation, as the hot water engulfs him. He trails a lazy hand around his nipple and down his stomach, gently but thoroughly lathering himself right there, the soft thrum of his heartbeat under the skin occupying his entire awareness. He slips soapy fingers between his cheeks and tentatively breaches the tight muscle hidden in the crevice. It’s not that he wants Rhett to touch him there, but if that were to happen, he’d rather be ready. He’s touched himself there a few times; it’s a little weird, but intriguing. Rhett almost definitely doesn’t want stuff like that, but Link could see himself not minding, if it did come up sometime. He was already eager before his tentative explorations, and slowly sinking first one finger and then two inside the snug opening starts to seem like something he could get lost in, if he wanted to. Instead he rinses off, squeegees his body with his hands first and then rubs himself down with a fluffy, white towel.
When he knocks on Rhett’s door ten minutes later, he is wearing joggers and an old t-shirt with a pterodactyl print that had worn soft and comfy over the years, but he has taken the time to style his hair with a bit of pomade, poofing up the top part just how he likes it. Rhett opens the door wearing only a towel, little droplets of water still dripping from his hair down his chest and making his tanned skin look juicy and ripe for the picking. The mere sight of him has Link immediately parched, struggling to open his dry mouth and think of something to say. Rhett cocks an eyebrow and grins when he backs just enough into the room to let Link step in.
As soon as Link is inside and the door behind him closed, Rhett crowds him against it. Link’s eyes flutter closed as Rhett moves against him, hands roaming and groping. Link may have whispered his name, or maybe just moaned, he can’t be sure. All he knows is Rhett crushing into him like a tidal wave and his body bending and melting with the pressure.
Rhett wastes no time in pulling Link’s shirt over his head and Link’s arms move up to assist him, like choreographed movements in a dance familiar to both. Once his shirt has been removed, Link catches sight of the delirious grin blooming on his face in the mirror across the room.
Rhett licks a hot trail from Link’s collarbone up to his earlobe and Link is positive it’s the most sensual touch he has ever received. He wishes Rhett would kiss him again, that that wouldn’t be too outlandish for them. Instead, Rhett grinds against him, causing his towel to slide down and hit the floor. He is hard, and beautiful. Seeing him naked never fails to captivate Link, even after all these years. If anything, he’s gotten better with age, Link thinks; he's now broader and firmer - a mountain of a man - instead of the gangly boy Link first desired.
“Damn, you look...” Link whimpers. He wants to wrap his hands around that delicious cock, wants to pull Rhett with him to bed, wants Rhett to have his way with him.
“Yeah, baby? You want this?” The term of endearment is pleasure mixed with pain, but Link embraces it, accepting that the twinges of longing and deprivation are just a reminder that he's alive.
“Rhett,” Link whispers.
“I’m gonna treat you real fucking nice, bo,” Rhett continues, and Link wants nothing more than to spread himself open for Rhett to take, not just to fuck but to make love to. “Gonna make you moan my name.”
“Rhett, we should stop,” Link manages between gasps.
“Why, you think Jenna can hear us next door? She can’t, I promise.” Rhett’s hand slides down Link’s body, stopping at the front of his sweatpants.
“No, I think we should stop doing this, whatever this is.” The words are out of Link, floating in the air between them, before he was sure of wanting to say them. “I mean, it’s about time we end it, right? Like, it’s probably not healthy?” He’s second-guessing himself, but powering through nonetheless.
“Why?” Rhett untangles himself from Link’s body and shifts back, leaving just his toes in contact with Link’s left shoe, like he needs this little bit of Link to hold onto still. “What do you even mean, not healthy? How? Did you not like it? ‘Cause I wish you’d told me sooner if you didn’t like it.”
“I… I liked it. But it’s been so — I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Like why are we even doing it?” It’s too difficult to look at Rhett, so he doesn’t.
“To help each other, to make each other feel good!”
“Help with what? I don’t remember why we’re really doing it. And like, why we’re doing it with each other. Why couldn’t it be with whomever? Or, I don’t mean whoever, I just think… We don’t, if we don’t really need it… There’s a time and place for everything, and I’m starting to think the time for this has passed. It’s probably for the best that we end it, so it doesn’t get — so that we don’t start to resent each other, or that we — I mean, it doesn't need to get any more complicated, right?”
“But you said you were mine,” Rhett counters, and Link’s stomach drops.
“Oh, so you do remember that,” he snarls, all the disappointment, anger and resentment he has felt escaping him at last in a single reply. Rhett looks meek, suddenly tiny in his large frame. As his arms fall to his sides and he takes a step back, the space between them unfurls into an expanse of cold air, and Link has to strain to hear him speak.
“Link, please don’t,” Rhett says, eyes fixed on the floor, arranging his hands to cover his crotch as if suddenly remembering his nudity. “I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“I don’t know, Link, everything.”
“I was scared too. I’ve been scared for a long time.” Link sucks on his tongue, arranging and rearranging his words inside his mouth. In the end they just ripple out, artless and sincere. “But I’m done fighting it. I’m done with games. I am yours, always have been. You know? And if you wanted me, really wanted me… But I can’t do this. I know you said we’re helping each other, but it’s — maybe it was fine at first? I can’t remember. I really haven’t been okay with it for a long time, it’s been too… I can’t do it anymore.”
Link starts to turn away, but for once Rhett is ready, threading his fingers with Link’s and clasping his hand tightly.
“Wait. I wanna say something.”
“You don’t have to…” Link shakes his head. Maybe if he squeezes his eyes shut tight enough, he won’t cry. At least not until he’s back in his room.
“I am too, you know.” Rhett leans down to ghost the tip of his nose down Link’s face.
“What?” Link feels frozen in place, too dumbfounded and overwhelmed to follow.
“Yours.” Rhett says quietly but confidently, like he’s so sure of himself all of a sudden and it’s the easiest thing in the world to say. “No games, no helping out. All I want is you.”
“What the crap, why didn’t you… You never said anything,” Link gasps.
“It took me a long time to realize it,” Rhett murmurs into Link’s hair. “Or admit to myself, or whatever. And I wasn’t sure — I didn’t know if you felt the same. Sometimes I thought you did, and I wanted to tell you... I was gonna tell you. But it’s not like you said anything either.”
“I could’ve never imagined… Oh, Rhett!” Link sighs as he rushes to meet Rhett’s mouth with his.
It’s as devastating now as it was the first time they kissed. The first kiss was heavy with desire and denial, and it felt like the first and last of its kind. This time Link kisses his lifelong best friend with the promise to keep doing again and again for as long as he’ll have permission. He roams the familiar and strange with his tongue and makes his mark with his teeth.
“I don’t understand. I’ve wanted this for so long, but you never seemed…” Link murmurs as breaks away from the kiss and makes his way to the pristine, white bed.
“I was an idiot,” Rhett replies, following the other man to the bed obediently. Link has never felt so powerful, so in control, as he does now with a giant wrapped around his finger.
“You were,” Link hums as he grabs Rhett to pull him in again with certain, unshaking hands. They fall onto the bed, Rhett trying to brace himself on his arms and knees to keep from crushing the body underneath him.
“Forgive me?” Rhett asks with a smile so smug Link knows he is correctly predicting the answer.
“I might.” Link pulls Rhett close, face buried in his neck, mindlessly kissing at every inch of skin his lips can reach. He has never been one to hold a grudge.
“To be fair,” Rhett murmurs into Link’s ear, “you haven’t exactly been open about your feelings either.” He licks his thumb and circles it around Link’s nipple.
“Oh fuck!” Link is too focused on wiggling out of his clothes to formulate a clever response. When Link finally manages to free his cock from its confines, it smacks firmly onto his stomach, and the pleased little chuckle Rhett issues in response is like soft velvet in Link's ear.
“So you probably shouldn’t chastise me too harshly for my lack of transparency.”
Link is growing impatient with Rhett going on about who is more wrong; in fact, he might just be done talking altogether. He wraps his legs around Rhett and bucks his hips up to see if that could shut the other man up. But the move makes Rhett’s cock rub against his perineum, and Link’s brain short-circuits with the maddening pleasure of being touched so close to where he secretly wants it. All he can do is whimper helplessly and keep repeating the motion, working the head of Rhett's against that spot and mindlessly chasing his pleasure.
Rhett takes the cue to stop talking and pulls away to kiss a wet trail down Link’s body. After an eternity of teasing, he brushes his tongue over the reddened tip of Link’s yearning cock. He sucks on Link slowly, feather-light fingers trailing over his sack and beyond, just brushing over his hole as Link tries his best to moan encouragingly and telepathically convey yes, please touch me right there.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Rhett growls as he pulls away and reaches into the bag he left beside the bed. He produces a bottle, opens it, and pours some onto his hand as Link watches with delirious impatience. As his slick hand wraps around the base of Link's cock and twists, Link very briefly wonders why his friend would carry lube. Quickly, however, his attention shifts entirely to Rhett’s wandering fingers and he shivers, despite the heat running through his veins.
“What do you want?” Rhett asks. The lubed tip of his index finger remains right at Link’s opening, rubbing around the rim at a glacial pace.
“Please, Rhett.”
“Tell me.”
“Touch me there. Inside.” For a fleeting moment, he thinks he might die of embarrassment. But then Rhett does and oh fuck, why did he never ask for this before?
Just for a second, Rhett’s finger breaching him is uncomfortable and difficult and he has to put all his focus into relaxing himself. But it doesn’t take long for pleasure to take over, and soon he is gyrating his hips onto Rhett’s hand, emitting a happy purr every time Rhett’s finger hits a particularly good spot.
“More,” Link whispers, trying to shake off the residual shame of wanting this, needing so bad for Rhett to keep touching him in that same place he grazed before.
“You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.” Rhett looks at him with a quirked eyebrow.
“I don’t care, I need it.”
If one finger was good, two are impossibly so. Link’s brain crackles with static as one of his hands trails up to grab a fistful of his own hair while the other snakes down to squeeze his shaft. Rhett takes his whimpers as an invitation to drive his fingers deeper still, and Link can no longer contain a wanton moan.
“Oh fuck, you gonna moan like that just from my fingers?” Rhett asks, other hand wrapped around his own dick.
Link is trapped between Rhett’s long fingers brushing him in just the right spot and the satisfying pressure of his own hand on his cock. They’ve built a rhythm together, Link is fucking himself on Rhett’s fingers in unison with stroking his own cock, and Rhett is jacking himself off, rubbing his cock head on Link’s thigh, leaving a glistening trail in his wake. Gosh, it almost feels like they’re fucking, Link realizes. He also realizes he’s not going to last very long. A sticky sweet high rolls over him like honey, in time with Rhett tracing sloppy kisses and hot breath over his skin.
“Please, don’t stop,” Link gasps when the ecstasy flows in, and Rhett doesn’t, he would never. Link’s orgasm is an unstoppable force of nature; hot and tingling waves spread from his groin to his extremities and back again, leaving him hazy and spent. He shivers and bucks into his hand, cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach.
As he comes down from his high, he registers Rhett still grunting above him, tense with need. Link wants desperately to reach out and touch him but his limbs have gone helplessly limp. As Rhett climbs on top of him and straddles his soft, warm body, Link can only smile a weak, intoxicated smile. He watches and babbles gentle words of encouragement as the golden statue of a man strokes himself above him, licking his lips with a wild and hungry look in his eyes and thrusting into his fist.
“Please, come for me baby.” Link murmurs and, in a need to feel Rhett fall apart for him, manages to reach for him and caress a hand up his thigh and torso. “Show me how bad you want me, darlin’.”
Rhett growls out a string of expletives as his body goes rigid and his cum spills out to mix with Link’s, a few milky drops landing somewhere in the dark hair on Link’s chest. A low, rumbling laugh escapes him as he collapses down onto the mattress beside Link. Link responds with a relieved chuckle of his own.
Afterwards they lie on the bed side by side, heads buzzing, breaths matched. Link turns on his side to face Rhett and places a soft palm on his ribs, to feel his heart pounding inside. He wants to say something, ask what this means for them, but the words stay stubbornly lodged in his chest, somewhere under the fear and his heart that’s beating just as loud as Rhett’s. Instead, he wraps his arm around Rhett and leans closer to press the whole length of his body against him, to make himself whole. Be mine?
Rhett kisses his forehead. Link can feel the smile on his lips and the little, happy hum vibrating inside him. He hopes it’s a yes. They keep breathing in time, relaxed into an embrace after decades of tension and holding back. Maybe talking can wait.