Chapter Text
"You know, like how old married couples go-"
"I hate it when you compare us to an old married couple."
"When they go on a trip together to refresh their romance. Like that, but us and bromance."
"We don't have a bromance. I hate you most of the time. Like right now."
"Which is exactly why we need to go! Old married couples hate each other. Then they go on a trip and they love each other again."
"What, so you're saying you hate me?"
"No! I love you!" Rhett grimaced over having to say the words and then let out a sigh. "Link, you keep saying you hate me and I know I keep getting mad at you. But you mean a lot to me, alright, brother? We need to make a conscious effort to get out of this...this phase." When Link stayed quiet, Rhett added, "Please, brother," despite how awkward he felt about using the b-word twice in a row after so long of not having said it at all. It'd began to taste like dirt in his mouth a while back already.
"Three days?" Link bargained.
"Two weeks."
"Two weeks?!" Link's voice rose to a scream. "Five days at most!"
"Ten."
"Seven?"
"Ten days, Link. Ten."
"What are we gonna do for ten days?"
"Snowboard. Learn to be nice to each other again."
"Can't we do it here?"
"We've tried. What's this been going on for, huh? Two months? I'm getting scared, Link. It's never been this bad before."
"I keep trying but every time I do, you get pissed about something and ruin it."
Rhett knew that bringing up the times that Link pushed away his efforts would only cause more tension, so for once he gritted his mouth shut and thought of something else to say. His words felt forced and garbled as he pushed out, "I thought of a plan. We should...should try to do some things we did as kids. To, uh, remember and...yeah, I figured it could help us. Therapy of a sort. And also just having fun together. Not think about work at all. But of course this is also important for work because it's beginning to affect it. The only thing we've done just for fun together for ages is surfing and we never go anymore. We're becoming colleagues, not friends. I need my best friend."
Despite the messy portrayal of his point, through who knows what magic, Rhett managed to get Link to agree to go on a ten day vacation to the Alps.
***
The idea of vacationing together had spawned in Rhett's mind after the discussion with Sorted Food in an Ear Biscuit. The guys had talked about how they made sure to stay in touch with their friends by going on trips together every now and then.
Link always insisted on the two of them vacationing apart, so Rhett could not recall a time of any recent sort where they spent an extended amount of time together in a non-work-related way. Link said that being apart for a few weeks twice a year was good for them, healthy for their relationship, but Rhett wasn't too sure about that. He missed Link every time, he was man enough to admit that. He enjoyed getting to spend time with his kids, but why did he need to not see Link? At all? Not getting to contact the man whatsoever made Rhett anxious — he needed to vent at someone, both about negative and positive things, and most importantly about ideas — and he never managed to enjoy the final week of his time off because he was becoming grouchy and kept waiting for his vacation to end.
Not that he told Link. He tried to, once, but then he began to feel clingy, like his emotions were or would come off as stronger than they strictly should be, and he didn't want Link to find out about that. He felt self-conscious about how strongly he felt for Link, every now and again. He covered it up with flippant words, just like he did whenever Link began to gush about how much he looked forward to not seeing Rhett's face or how nice it had been to not see Rhett's face.
Rhett had occasionally suggested little vacations to Link, but the man had never bitten. It wasn't easy for them to take time off work now that they had a daily show, and Rhett understood that Link needed to spend what little they could get with his family. Rhett, however, didn't understand why they had to full-on stay away from each other in the process.
And yes, he wasn't comfortable with discussing that with Link. Communication issues seemed to be bothering their relationship lately. Rhett knew that was the cause of their problems and yet he couldn't bring himself to say certain things that he maybe should say, either for his own sake or then Link's.
Whenever he considered this, he was reminded of the communication method they had devised as kids — well, it had most likely been Link that came up with it. The boy sitting on the big rock talked about whatever he wanted to talk about, and the one on the small rock could only ask questions. It had worked well for them and molded them into good listeners. Rhett had begun to feel like they could use a rehash of that lesson. It was the first spark of the idea of revisiting things the two of them had done when they were young, and the more things Rhett thought of, the more he felt like they were something the two men needed at this point in their lives — the point at which they were (Rhett was almost afraid to think it) beginning to view each other as work.
So Rhett ended up combining things. A vacation together, aka forced quality time between best friends, not colleagues, and revisiting their childhood behavior. He made up a list, even. He wanted them to try and do everything during the vacation.
1. Talk with the rock system
2. Drive aimlessly and blast the radio
3. Wrestle
4. Look at porn
(That one made Rhett's insides swirl a little.)
5. Sleep in bunk beds
6. Get drunk outdoors
7. Jam without a cause
8. Do something stupid and dangerous on impulse
9. Listen to Merle Haggard for hours
10. Redo the blood oath
Deciding on the place to travel to was easy enough. Both of them had loved snowboarding, despite the accidents they had gotten into and the fact that they weren't too great at it. It was a sport for young and reckless people, and that was exactly what they needed to re-experience. And there was no better place for snowboarding than the Alps. It was a place far from home, almost like a fantasy really, so unrealistically distant (yet strangely reachable) that Rhett felt like it was a place where they could forget their current selves and the lives they now led. If they couldn't remember who they were to each other there, Rhett didn't know where they could. Even their hometown was now cluttered with memories of countless holidays spent apart.
***
On the plane Link immediately fell asleep. Seeing the man's mouth predictably flop open made Rhett feel almost possessive, because it was just another piece of proof of how well he knew his friend. He figured it would be good to have Link to himself for a while, to clear emotions like that out. He'd take all he could now that he had the chance, so he unabashedly stared at his defenseless traveling companion for a large portion of the flight, dozing off occasionally.
***
Rhett was surprised that Link had allowed him to plan everything for the trip with minimum questions, but less surprised about the man's resulting wariness and inability to believe that Rhett had actually sorted everything out.
"What's the cabin like? It's a cabin, right? You'd definitely get a cabin, not a hotel. It better have electricity and running water, and heating too. I'm not in the mood to mess around with firewood for ten days."
"It's got everything," Rhett assured him.
The drive from Zürich Airport to the ski resort was two hours long, but Rhett had heard that the resort was one of The Alps' best. Well, it's what he'd googled, anyway.
"The rental car was a good idea," Link noted, fingers tapping on the wheel and eyes flicking to the GPS more often than necessary.
That was the biggest compliment Rhett had received from the guy in a while. The only compliment he'd received from him in a while, really. When he realized this, his eyes began to moisten and he quickly looked out the window, feeling humiliated. Within a few quick blinks, however, he already felt better — this meant progress. They were healing.
He wanted to stay on the upward curve and therefore wracked his brain for something to compliment Link back on.
"You slept really well on the plane," he blurted. That was not a compliment! When he tried to think of good things, his head kept receiving the image of Link's slack, open mouth. He'd stared at it for too long — it'd gotten stuck to the front of his mind just because of the extended exposure. That was how minds worked.
Link gave him a narrow-eyed glance and simply replied with a "yeah". Great success, Rhett.
Rhett tried to reach for an explicative follow-up. "Uhh, I'm not sure what the bed...the sleeping quarters are like in the cabin."
Link chuffed to voice his displeasure, bowing his head down theatrically and giving it a few shakes to really bring the point home.
"I mean, it's a two bedroom! So it's totally fine. I just don't know what the beds are like," Rhett hurried to add. He was lying though — he knew. He'd made sure to rent a cabin that he could see pictures of. He figured Link would find the bunk bed in one of the rooms a little weird, and Rhett didn't want him to know he'd specifically looked for a cabin with one. When the time came, he'd just say it was a crazy coincidence.
"Don't mind where I sleep so long as it's not with you," Link stated.
Back to square one. Rhett felt hot anger simmer at the base of his throat. "We came here to try and be nice to each other, and this is how you want to start the trip?" he spat out, instantly ready for another fight. He was getting sick of feeling like he was the only one trying. Link didn't seem like he even cared to try and fix their relationship. Rhett tried his best to push away the idea that his aggravation was also partly due to Link's words dismissing the plans of sleeping in a bunk bed together, but he didn't really succeed.
"How is saying I don't want to sleep with you insulting? Obviously I don't want to!"
"You don't always have to say it so harshly. Obviously we won't sleep in the same bed."
"Oh yeah? What about that time in New York last year? There was one bed! You ordered the room!"
"It's not like I did it on purpose. The hotel screwed up. Cabins don't screw up. If there's two bedrooms, there's two beds."
"Whatever, man," Link mumbled, effectively ending the argument.
Seeing how the tense set of Link's jaw and his tight grip on the steering wheel continued for the next ten minutes eventually managed to make Rhett think he may have been in the wrong for getting angry so quickly.
"Sorry. I got mad," he gritted out, finally breaking the silence.
"'S okay."
"I, uhh...I was thinking the first thing we need to do is talk. Today."
"Alright."
"We're almost there."
Link gave a small nod.
"You regret agreeing to come?" Rhett asked.
Without hesitation, Link responded, "No." The tiny gesture made Rhett feel instantly lighter.
"Da's good."
***
The cabin was located on the outer edge of a cluster of its kin, a fairly walkable distance from the nearest ski slopes — but not when carrying snowboards. A rental car was a must. There was a small, covered garage attached to the two-story cabin. Rhett had to get out of the car to unlock it with one of the keys given to them at the office they'd dropped by at on the way.
Stepping in through the front door, from the corner of his eye Rhett saw Link looking around appreciatively. It made him feel accomplished. Right next to the front door was a small storage room, most likely for skiing gear. There was a good-sized living room, taking up a large portion of the first floor, flanked by a small kitchen. At the back was a bathroom and a laundry room. The second floor did not cover the entire area of the house, only about two thirds of it, and consisted of nothing but the two bedrooms and second, smaller bathroom. The remaining space was utilized as a balcony.
Rhett didn't go on a tour, though; he'd gone on one online already. Instead he dropped his bags right at the entrance, registering and ignoring Link's huff of disapproval, then walked to the den and flopped right onto the biggest arm chair.
"C'mere," he prompted Link, gesturing at the long couch that the chair was half-facing. It made the arm chair inconvenient for watching television, but perfect for Rhett's purpose.
Link always either followed orders immediately and unconditionally, or then he completely dismissed them. In this case he set his suitcase down in a corner and then walked over, sitting down on the edge of the couch, languidly propping a knee up.
"I get to talk," Rhett explained. "You only get to ask questions."
"Like the rocks?"
"Exactly. The person on this arm chair gets to talk."
"It's a stupidly placed arm chair."
"You already broke the rules," Rhett chastised.
"Sorry, I thought we were still, you know, planning," Link apologized light-heartedly, clearly with no intention of aggravating Rhett. He still did, just a little, because Rhett needed him to take the situation seriously and he wasn't doing so.
"No, we're jumping straight in."
"What do you wanna talk about?"
Rhett had to think, resulting in a moment of silence.
"I'd like for us to do talks like this every night, when we get back home from snowboarding or dinner or whatever. Each one of us would get at least one turn."
"Why this way of talking?"
"I think we don't listen to each other properly anymore, and we jump to conclusions a lot and get mad...this prevents that, because we just get to keep talking. All the way until we get the point across."
"You think it'd help your temper?"
Rhett grimaced. "I think you being nicer would help my temper."
"So I'm supposed to walk on egg shells around you, no friendly banter?"
Rhett had been so very wrong in assuming they couldn't have an argument like this. He had severely underestimated Link. "Maybe it'd be good if we walked on egg shells for a lil' bit. Till we're, till things are fixed."
"But how are we going to fix things exactly?"
"I said I have a plan. I just need you to want to try."
"I do?"
Rhett let the sorry excuse for a question slide. "Let's just...be nice."
"So am I not allowed to say your hair looks stupid right now?"
"That shirt really brings out your eyes," Rhett blurted, because he knew that thorough consideration would keep him from saying it. Coral was sort of a complementary color to blue, wasn't it? Was that shirt coral? Kind of pink, kind of orange. Or was that salmon then?
Link's face went through a complicated set of twitches. "What's this now, Compliment Corner?"
"You still smell nice even after that long night flight," Rhett pressed.
"What?"
Rhett gritted his teeth in trying to keep his expression from betraying his emotions, and searched again for the first compliment that came up in his head. "The, uh, your collarbones look nice?"
Link attempted to reign in his wide smile, but didn't succeed very well, resulting in a weirdly happy-looking frown. Rhett always liked the face the man made when he did that. "Aren't I supposed to be the one asking questions?"
Rhett ignored him. "I like it when you make that face."
Link was reduced to huffing through a scrunched up nose. He was embarrassed.
Rhett decided he had no chance but to plow onwards. He was going to go all in for the next ten days, that's what he'd sworn to himself. He pushed away his own embarrassment and thought of how far simple words could potentially get him with Link. He knew that Link needed affirmation on a regular basis, and Rhett had stopped giving it to him. "I care about you, Link, I love you. You're my best friend, among the five most important people in my life." Rhett didn't want to say the specific rank, though he wasn't sure he even knew. "The brightest man I know, a person that, when I honestly think about it, I swear I couldn't live without." A brother? Rhett was about to add that, but Link interrupted him.
"Can we stop now?" Link pleaded quietly, head bowed.
Rhett blasted up from the arm chair in anger, temper instantly flared because this man, this...and then Link was standing, and Rhett thought they'd finally get into a physical fight for the first time, his body rigid and ready. Link smashed into him bodily, grabbing onto him around the waist, hugging him.
Rhett let out a stupid spluttering noise. He lifted his hands to instinctively push Link away, but only got as far as setting them on the man's waist before he thought better of it. Link's face was at the side of his neck. "Let's go rent our boards?" Link whispered, fitting the world that was suddenly a whole lot quieter when blood was no longer rushing in Rhett's ears. Link inched closer and Rhett felt the man's lips moving on the thin skin of his neck, almost at his throat, when he said, "Go for a coffee on the way? It was a long trip."
Rhett's answer was a vaguely affirmative "ungh", because it was the best he could do. He felt placated, but there was still a tender hole somewhere in his chest, the fact that Link hadn't disclosed any of his own thoughts feeding Rhett's uncertainty. Feeling Link's warm breath against his neck was making his skin feel over-sensitive, like the air was twice as heavy as it should be. It made him uncomfortable, but he knew that pushing Link away wasn't what he should do at a moment like this, not when they so badly needed to assure each other that they cared at all. It was difficult to convince himself that it was no longer the right thing to do, years of pushing Link away whenever he got uncomfortably close having grilled the habit into him.
"It's the afternoon, if we drink coffee now it'll mess up our schedules more," Rhett ended up mumbling. It was early morning in LA right then, but almost dinner time in Switzerland.
Link pulled his head up in order to look at Rhett. "Hot chocolate then. I have a weird craving for that right now." He stepped away, giving Rhett's shoulder a solid pat, and said, "Good hug, brother", making fun of Rhett's stiff frame.
***
Link ended up ordering himself a coffee behind Rhett’s back anyway, despite having been the one to get the most amount of sleep. Rhett warned the man that he'd best not keep him up at night as well.
They were only planning on going out to the slopes the next day, but they still bought ten day passes for the lifts because there was a sale on a bundle with a ten day skiing or snowboarding gear rental. Rhett took the last snowboard of his length at the sweat-stinky rental store, clearly not a popular and well-stocked size. It was almost as tall as Link when propped up. Rhett chuckled and kept sliding it in front of Link's disgruntled face to obstruct his view, following the man's head in its comical attempts of escaping by moving from side to side. Link was making semi-coherent high-pitched words of protest in the process.
The young guy helping them pick out their boards smirked, and Rhett started to feel stuffy in his thick winter coat. He quickly moved to pay for the gear. Using the company credit card for such a thing made him feel strange, this being a work-free vacation and all, but it was easier than juggling the expenses between two people. When it came to Mythical Entertainment, what was Link's was his and what was his was Link's. It'd be easier to sort the money situation out at home once all the expenses were clear.
Link asked to go to a nice restaurant for dinner in order to balance out the horrendous meal they'd had on the plane. Rhett had planned on that anyway, so he'd already picked the restaurant. It had more dimmed lights and candles than he'd expected, but the steak was good and Link's eyes looked silver. That was interesting to see. Rhett didn't know they did that.
They were still kind of doing the thing on the drive back to the cabin. It was dark out already, but it was probably the dim, orange street lights that induced the effect. Orange was a complementary color to blue, maybe that was why. And why did Rhett keep thinking about complementary colors today? He needed to get a grip.
Link sang along to the radio softly, turned to a classics station he'd picked on the way out of the airport. Rhett didn't even realize he'd joined him until they pulled over and Link turned off the ignition, silence spreading through the car.
"You haven't booked us into couples' therapy, have you?" Link asked on the way to the door.
"Gosh, no. I thought of it though." Rhett didn't want someone prying into his deeper motivations right in front of Link.
"Me too, yeah."
"Maybe if this doesn't work out."
"I think it will," Link said with a smile in Rhett's direction. Rhett got the urge to tousle his beanie-covered hair, and ended up giving Link a one-handed noogie.
"My turn, yeah?" Link affirmed as he walked into the den and sat himself on the arm chair. Rhett obediently took a seat on the couch.
Link leaned forward, setting his elbows on his thighs and leaning his chin on his knuckles. Rhett's lips twitched when he realized how much that made the situation resemble therapy. Link said, "I appreciate what you've done. I know you have some plan of us...reliving our childhoods or something, and I think that might fix things for a while. But what we actually need to do is talk about why things have...why we've become what we've become. It's not 'cause I forgot what it was like to be with you as kids, having fun, messing around. We have an issue. You think that issue is the way we communicate."
"Yes?"
"I don't. There's something else. I want to, I want us to sort that out. The functions of how we communicate are fine, but something is making us, or one of us, constantly want to make everything into a fight."
"You're saying I'm the one doing it?"
"No, I'm not. I don't know if I do it. The lines of when I get mad for the sake of getting mad and when I get mad just to, just because you're getting mad, they're getting blurred."
"What do you suggest we do then?" Rhett drawled, trying not to make it sound too spiteful, but he couldn't quite control his tone.
"I dunno. I just want you to know that I personally don't think that the way we communicate is the root of this problem. It's a cause. That's all I wanted to say. For now we can keep doing whatever you wanted us to do."
"Are you sure you don't already know what the issue is?" If Link saw an issue besides communication, he had to be seeing it. Rhett wasn't buying this.
"I think it might be a mix of many things. That's what I think we need to use this time to figure out. I don't know how though. We'll just need to talk about, about feelings I guess, when we get angry." Link took a break, but Rhett had no question to ask. "I'm just getting really frustrated, man. I wanna know what's coming in between us but when I try to think about it, I come up empty or then there's a whole lot of insignificant little stuff." Link began to get up. "I think that spending time together like this will help us though. That's why I agreed to this. And if this doesn't work, we're going into therapy. Maybe a professional will figure it out. I'm gonna go unpack." He gave Rhett's shoulder a pat and went to grab his things, advancing towards the stairs.
"Wait!" Rhett shouted after him, scrambling up from the couch. "Which one's getting which room?"
Link turned to look back at him, eyebrow raised. "What, they aren't the same?"
"Yeah, the beds are different. One's got two beds — well basically three. But then again the other basically has two, and the other maybe does have four, with a stretch."
"In the car you said you didn't know what the beds were like," Link reminded him, turning the blood in Rhett's veins steel-rigid for a second. He wasn't sure why he was so affected by getting caught in the small lie — maybe he was feeling guilty for lying when he'd been claiming communication was key.
"Forgot 'bout it," he said comically nonchalantly, not trying very hard to hide the lie. Maybe Link would assume the lie was to protect a part of his secret plan — which it sort of was, because he didn't want Link to know about the bunk beds...thing...before the time came. It wouldn't work right, wouldn't be natural.
Link let out a chuff and said, "Whatever. So you asking which I want?" He walked up the stairs and Rhett followed, not bothering to grab his own bags.
"If it's not the one I want, then yeah," he joked. He'd let Link take whichever he wanted.
Link opened the door on the left, walking straight in. "King size bed, looking good." He suddenly spiraled to face Rhett again, a mix of shock and determination plastered on his face. Determined shock? Shocked determination? There's some new emotions for psychologists to categorize. "If the other room has something like, just kiddy beds or something, don't even think you're not the one getting stuck with it. I don't care that you're taller. You planned this trip."
"It's cool, it has a queen. I'd prefer the king, but I can take it." Then, because he didn't want Link to ask, he added, "It's got a bunk bed too. Probably meant to house a few kids, but they're not kiddy sized."
Link appeared surprised. Rhett kept going, "It was hard to, you know, find a cabin for two that wasn't just...just one bedroom, and I knew you would get upset about that. So this is basically a cabin for a family of five."
"That explains the price," Link noted, smirking easily, no more questions asked.
As soon as Rhett stepped into his bedroom, he began to feel dead tired. He'd hardly slept on the plane, so it was essentially like he'd missed a full night of sleep. He wasn't young enough to do that without consequences anymore. His body felt lethargic (Maybe he could use a cleansing colonic? he sang in his head) and he decided to be lazy and leave unpacking for the morning. He took off his clothes, getting one of his pointy elbows stuck somewhere in his shirt in the process, and fell into bed. He was lulled to sleep by the sound of Link moving around in the other room, putting his things away.
***
"Rhett? Come on, man, you can't go to sleep this early."
Rhett peered at his friend through squinted eyes. Link was leaning over his bed. Rhett glanced at the time — 10:53 PM — and grumbled, "It's 11 PM, Link. I told you not to drink coffee."
Link shook Rhett's shoulder and claimed that they had to go out. Rhett mumbled something along the lines of "what" before sitting up.
"The lifts run until midnight. We can still go!" Link said excitedly.
"You're not serious. I told you about the coffee, Link! I told you!"
"I slept at least ten hours on the plane too, man, ain't no way I'm falling asleep yet 'cause of that already. Snowboarding for an hour might tire me out and help me sleep."
"You realize we'll be able to actually be there for like thirty minutes, tops?"
"This is a skiing vacation, Rhett! Well, snowboarding. Come on, now. If you're quick, we could stay for forty."
Rhett figured this vacation was the time he was going to please his best friend in any way he could, so he got up and dressed himself. Link stuck around, bouncing around the room uncharacteristically, whining about the fact that Rhett hadn't even unpacked, just went straight to sleep, what is he, eighty?
Rhett was going to show him just how eighty he was once they got on the slopes and he destroyed Link. How, exactly, he wasn't sure. Speed and grace, he supposed. Or maybe just speed would do the trick. Link was usually the graceful one, but Rhett could undermine the value of that and just focus on speed, leading to him winning. Then when Link felt down, he could tell the man how graceful he was and make him feel better. Was that manipulative? If he really thought about it, he loved few things more than he loved watching Link bashfully (but brightly) smile at compliments he'd been given. Ones that Rhett specifically had given, actually.
They got to the parking lot with fifty minutes to spare, but were then faced with the challenge of where to actually go. The piste map was huge, and were they intermediate or beginners? Link kept saying they were beginners, but they'd snowboarded before! Multiple times! "It's been like 10 years since then, Rhett." Despite Rhett's huffing, they chose a beginners' slope, just to start with. There were intermediates nearby they could switch to if need be.
The lift was a T-Bar. They'd only ever ridden chairs before.
"Is it, uhh, is it easier alone or together?" Link wondered.
There was nobody around. They saw some skiers in the adjacent intermediate slopes, but Rhett figured it made sense that the sort of people that skied in beginners' slopes wouldn't be doing it at 11 PM. Only further proof of the fact that they should've gone to a more difficult slope. "This is for kids," Rhett whined.
"Should I buckle up or not?" Link was walking towards the lift, snowboard under his arm.
The fact that there was no one around that they could copy made things difficult. "Probably not," Rhett suggested. "Just stand on the board."
"Nah, I'll buckle. Otherwise my feet'll just slip, right?" Link got close to the lifts and tied his binds, then awkwardly waddled right to the course of the lift. He grabbed onto an anchor, pulling it towards him in the middle of its ascent. "Shoot, do I, am I supposed to—" He had to let go of the bar because it got too far away before he managed to get on it. He fell backwards on his ass, knees stiffly up due to the snowboard weighing down his feet. Rhett bent in half in laughter.
Link attempted to sway himself up with the snowboard attached to his feet, quite unsuccessfully. "I think two are supposed to ride it," Link got out in between quick breaths. He ended up untying the binds of one foot, propping himself up with it. "I mean, you can't just lean back on that, right? I think you, I think I might've seen before that you put one side between your legs. Then another person gets on the other side."
"Let's try it. I'll just stand on my board though." Rhett moved to the other side of the lift, the T-Bars slowly passing by in between him and Link.
Link left one leg untied and the other free, kicking himself to a good position. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Do this. Then you won't slip off and you can still move around. Gosh, we're stupid."
Rhett did just that because he realized Link was right, and then grabbed onto a lift, dragging it down and in between, wait, which one's legs first? He shoved it in between Link's, the action heating up the nape of his neck, then quickly shuffled closer to hop onto his own side. Link grabbed onto the vertical bar right below Rhett's hand.
Their mismatched heights turned out to be an issue as the lift caught on to their weight and Rhett's side of the upside down T dug into the middle of his thigh rather than sitting right at his crotch like it did for Link. It felt incredibly flimsy, and Rhett kicked with his free leg a couple of times to keep his balance, but they appeared to be getting up the hill just fine. "Shouldn't have picked a beginners'," he moaned again anyway.
As the incline steepened, Rhett's breath caught in his throat because there was no way this frickin' thin, light little anchor could actually get two heavy, grown men up, and his snowboard began to droop to the side. He had to kick it back to the right track, which caused their whole ensemble to rock and Link to call out a riled "Hey!" Somehow they managed to even the lift out and get all the way to the top without falling off, but Rhett's heart was going crazy the whole time and he never took his eyes off of his feet and the snowboard. It solidified that he was a way bigger scaredy-cat now than he had been in college.
Climbing off of the T-Bar at the top proved to be another challenge. It never stopped moving, after all. Link scrambled off it, haphazard kicks somehow managing to keep him balanced. Rhett felt the effects of the sudden lack of weight on the other side of the T, the bar slipping up his thigh and out from between his legs. His hand, forgotten onto the bar, held on long enough for his body to contort to follow its continued ascent. When Rhett realized to let go, he unsurprisingly fell on his back.
At least it just meant the two of them were even. Rhett was actually winning a little, if he had to say. He'd been the second to fall, and he'd gotten the worse arrangement with the lift.
He joined Link, sitting down on the slope next to the guy. They tied their binds and now, despite his unsuccessful efforts down at the bottom, Link took a hearty spring off the ground, smoothly standing up on his board, only taking a few extra jumps to fix his balance.
Rhett could not get up. He bent forwards, but could not get a strong enough momentum to bounce up. He rocked back and forth in his efforts and quickly succeeded in feeling a tension in his abs. Not in getting up, though.
Link was laughing, and Rhett retorted that he was just working out his abs. The other man jumped in front of him, somewhat unsteadily, before presenting Rhett his right hand. "I'll pull you up," he said with a grin, and Rhett knew that this so meant that Link had won, but grabbed on anyway and let the man pull him.
Link put a vigorous amount of strength into it, uncaring of his own balance. Rhett had a moment to enjoy standing up before his friend toppled backwards, and Rhett followed. The fall was longer than he'd naturally expect, causing a near second-long burst of panic before he finally hit the sloped ground. Well, he didn't actually hit the ground — he fell on top of Link, their chests colliding. It sounded like the force took Link's breath with it, but Rhett couldn't just quickly scramble off the man in the position they were in.
Once Link regained his breath — and perhaps even a bit before that — he began to giggle uncontrollably. Their hands were still clasped together, buried in between them. Link stayed motionless everywhere except for his head, which thrashed from side to side on the ground with the force of his joy. Rhett put some amount of effort into getting purchase for his right hand to lift himself up, but ended up just burying his face somewhere at Link's neck, his own laughter ridding him of bodily strength. Link's hand was rhythmically clenching his, a search for reassurance, as if checking it was still there.
They remembered how to snowboard well enough, so going down the slope ended up being easy. It was the T-Bar that kept giving them issues. It wasn't until their fourth (or fifth...) lift up that Rhett finally felt comfortable and no longer felt the need to stare at the ground the whole way up.
It turned out he didn't know where to look when the ground wasn't an option — and it wasn't, because Rhett was too cool for it. He looked behind his friend, at the slope, the large lights illuminating the place, the trees, and the faraway mountains hardly visible in the darkness, the snow on them reflecting just enough light. And then he looked at Link, because he was right in front of him — much closer than he'd expected. Link was smiling, teeth out and gums probably freezing, his goggles propped up onto his helmet. His eyes were silver again, despite the clear white lights crawling up the tree line on the sides of the hill. Maybe Rhett knew nothing about complementary colors after all. Link commented on something about Rhett looking up for the first time, but the man just ignored him and stared, drawn in by the proposition that there was something about his friend he wasn't already familiar with. The moment when Link's expression began to turn more complex, gaining small lines of discomfort and bafflement, the lift stilled. It was midnight.