Work Text:
Link is beautiful.
Rhett shakes his head, smiling a little reproachfully. He doesn’t think about Link like that, as a rule he made to himself when these thoughts first surfaced. Sometimes, they creep up on him still, despite his best efforts not to let them. It’s hard when Link looks like he does today.
They filmed a Chunk skit earlier, and he hadn’t bothered cleaning the makeup off just yet. Rhett isn’t sure he even realizes it’s still on, too focused on whatever work he’s doing on his computer. He has one leg pulled up on his desk chair, chin rested on it, face relaxed. The eye makeup never fails to make him look incredible, even smudged around his eyes the way it is.
“Do I have something on my face?”
And he’s pulled out of his thoughts, forced to realize he’s just been staring at Link for however long. He looks amused, though, small smirk on his face while he rubs at his cheeks half-heartedly.
“Uh, makeup. Still,” Rhett tells him, waving a hand in his general direction.
Link’s eyebrows crinkle, and he wipes one finger under his eyelid, laughing when he realizes Rhett was right. “Well, dang,” he says. “I don’t think I have anymore wipes here. I’ll have to wait until I get home to really clean up.”
“Come here,” Rhett requests gently, digging through his desk drawer for the wet wipes he knows are in there somewhere.
He finds them tucked away, buried under a few things, and when he looks up, Link is leaning against the corner of Rhett’s desk, licking his lips subconsciously. For just a moment, he debates pretending like he couldn’t find them, just to get to see Link like this for a little longer, to spend the whole day with him like this. But he knows Link’s eyes are sensitive, knows how they’ll start itching in a little while and he won’t stop complaining about it until he wipes the makeup off.
Instead of handing them over, Rhett finds himself standing, too, looming over Link with a wipe in his hand. “Tilt just a little,” he murmurs, finger coming up under Link’s chin to guide him softly. It’s not weird until he thinks about it, realizes just how close they are like this. They’re almost chest-to-chest, and Rhett can feel Link’s breath on him. Everything sort of narrows down to this moment, with Link’s eyes soft and closed, head tilted up so Rhett can clean the black from around his eyes for him. It doesn’t feel real for some reason, not right now.
He’s as gentle as he can be when he makes contact, watching with a smile when Link jumps just a little, whoops nervously, and says, “Jeez, that’s cold!”
“Sorry, brother,” Rhett sympathizes.
Link is even more beautiful this close up.
Maybe it’s the proximity or the makeup or the fact that he smells like home and childhood and cookies, but Rhett’s hands shake just a little. Not noticeably, but he can feel the jitters, the nerves settling in his chest. His throat gets a little tight, and after a second, just barely a breath, he realizes he hasn’t gotten any of the makeup off.
With purpose this time, he wipes with small, soft strokes, his free hand cradling Link’s head, fingers in the hair at the base of his skull. He holds Link steady while he works, and Link’s eyes stay closed the whole time, totally relaxed.
“Man, do I really have that much makeup on?” Link asks, sounding shocked. He chuckles a little, mouth going crooked in a grin.
Without thinking about it, in one smooth motion, Rhett drops his hand and leans in to press his mouth against Link’s. It’s soft and sweet and it only lasts half a second, but it makes Rhett’s stomach swoop.
For a breath, he thinks Link is going to get upset, that he’s going to freak out, but he should have known better. Instead, his smile grows, and his eyes open. His nose scrunches up. “What was that for?”
Rhett shrugs his shoulders, a little sheepish at this point. “You look good,” he admits.
Link licks his lips again, tilts his head up a little more. “Do it again,” he requests, and Rhett’s eyebrows rise.
“Really?” Rhett asks, because this is—this is definitely not something they’ve done before. When they were kids, they had a couple of days where they held hands when they were alone, but never anything like this. Never anything so blatant and bold as a kiss. Some lingering touches, some intense eye contact, but never a kiss. “You want—“
“Yeah, come on,” Link says, nodding his head. “Kiss me again.”
And Link’s pulling him down, climbing up on the edge of the desk so he can sit and get comfortable. It’s like everything moves in slow-motion, takes it’s sweet time, and it shocks through him when their lips finally meet again. Wet this time, Link’s lips move with his. The press of his mouth is so sweet, so nice, something he really can’t believe feels like it does.
This is Link he’s kissing—his brother, his business partner, his best friend. He’s a lot more than that, and he knows it, but the thoughts rattle around in his head while he tilts Link’s head back father, gets him how he wants and presses against him harder. He tastes like lip balm, like Buies Creek, and like the wind going down the first drop of a rollercoaster.
He pulls back, licks at his lips. Link’s eyes are still closed, and he’s smiling. He tells Rhett, “Kiss me again.”
His voice is soft, just a murmur that makes Rhett’s stomach drop. He’s smiling now, too, and he leans back in, hands coming up to grab at Link’s face, manhandling him so he can lick past the seam of his lips, and gosh, when he finally does. The sound that Link makes, just a little whimper, shoots right to Rhett’s cock.
He feels like a teenager with how badly he wants this mixing in with the fear of doing something wrong, of being so unsure. It’s Link, though.
It’s Link, and he’s never been unsure when it comes to Link.
He kisses with all the desperation he’s feeling at the base of his spine, lets him feel the shakiness of his hands. Link’s hands come up to rest on his waist, right below his ribs, and he uses his feet so scoot them closer together.
Rhett chuckles into the kiss, presses his tongue into Link’s mouth again, just to hear that little sound one more time. He’s not disappointed, and when he pulls away, it’s with a few small, dry kisses that Link chases enthusiastically.
“Hey,” he says gently, hands still cradling Link’s face. His eyes flutter open again, and he looks up at Rhett with wide eyes. “Come back to me for a second, okay?”
“I’m right here,” Link promises. “Never left.”
He has to make sure they’re headed in the same direction with this, because this is serious enough that there needs to be a conversation. They can’t fall into something like this, even if it is just a few kisses, and not speak about it. So he runs his fingers through Link’s hair and looks him in the eyes.
“Is this okay? Are we doing this?” he asks, and he hopes Link knows what he’s asking.
He gets his answer in the form of Link tugging of his hands down, pressing it low on his belly and leaning back to rest on his hands, hips tilting forward. He’s got a smug look on his face, and Rhett groans thickly. “Go ahead,” Link tells him, nodding his head.
So Rhett does, slides his hand down and cups Link through his pants, feels him half-hard under his fingers. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, not particularly used to feeling another guy’s dick under his hand, but he’s pretty sure squeezing just a little bit, just like he likes, is a safe bet. Link responds with a breathy little moan, quiet enough that Rhett only barely catches it.
“You like that?” he asks, laughing a little bit.
Link bites at his bottom lip, smiles up at Rhett. “Yeah,” he says, nodding his head. “Keep going.”
He’s in jeans that are way too tight, so Rhett uses both hands to pop the button open, giving him a little more slack to work with. Link sighs in relief when he does, slumps down until he’s practically hanging off the side of the desk. His legs spread even wider in a move that Rhett takes as invitation to step even closer. He slides his hand into Link’s pants, getting his mouth on his just in time to catch the noise that falls out of him when he comes in contact with bare skin.
He just goes back to squeezing him gently, doing his best at a faux-handjob given the angle and the little space to work with. Link seems fine with it, arching into the press of Rhett’s hand on his cock, mouth wet and welcoming when Rhett licks inside again.
The kiss is sloppy this time, slick and loud and Rhett nearly blushes, feels the heat in his face travel down his chest. Their teeth clack together when Rhett passes his thumb over the head of Link’s cock, and a shaky moan tumbles out of one of them.
“Come on,” Link is mumbling against his mouth, and it mustn’t have been the first time he’s said it, because it comes out desperate and half annoyed. He’s wriggling his hips, hands pushing at his jeans, so Rhett helps him out, gets his other hand into a belt loop, tugs down while Link lifts his hips up. He gets them around Link’s ankles, uses both hands to shove them as far as he can get them, and then he’s wrapping his fist around the base of Link’s cock.
He’s so hard already, and Rhett sympathizes with the whine he lets out. His own jeans are starting to hurt, cock aching. “Can I blow you?” he asks, and the words shock even him. He had no idea he wanted that, but as soon as the words leave his mouth it’s all he can think about.
He wants to know how Link tastes, wants to feel the weight of him on his tongue, wants to see how much of him he can take. It won’t be good by any means, but he wants so badly. Link lets out a sound, one that’s pain mixed with disbelief, and he says, “Fuck, yeah baby. Do it. I want it.”
So Rhett slips one of Link’s feet through his jeans in a rush, jittery and nervous and thrumming with excitement. He gets on his knees, pulls Link closer to the edge of the desk. Long fingers curled around the base of Link’s cock, holding him in place, he licks at the head first, chuckling when his hips jerk up instantly.
Link’s still leaning on his arms, keeping himself upright and watching Rhett lick at him. He does his best to put on a show, to make it good, but he gets lost in the feeling of circling his tongue around the flared head, listening to the sounds Link makes. His breathing comes out in pants, and he’s mumbling little words of encouragement that Rhett suspects he isn’t meaning to say at all.
By the time he’s sinking his mouth down around him, Link is leaking on his tongue, one hand tight in Rhett’s hair, nails precariously close to digging into his scalp. “Oh fuck, Rhett,” he says, thick and rumbling through his chest in a way that makes Rhett moan, too. “Shit, baby. Oh, gosh.”
He gets down as far as he can, feeling Link bump against the back of his throat, fighting back a gag. For a second he worries about it, doesn’t want to gag, doesn’t want to ruin this moment. But Link just mumbles, “Fuck, look at you, choking on my cock. Jeez, Rhett.”
The words send heat licking down his spine, make him jerk forward, cock hard and aching and begging to be touched. If Link keeps talking like that, he might come in his pants from nothing at all. It wouldn’t shock him, not with how he’s feeling right now, this underlying desperation that’s fueling everything. In fact, it would make sense. Thirty years of looking at Link and not knowing what the pinch in his chest really meant, and now here he is, on his knees with his best friend’s dick in his mouth—it would only make sense if he came in his pants like a teenager.
He’s been thinking about this objectively since he was a teenager if he’s honest with himself. Link’s beautiful, just like all the girls he’s been obsessed with his whole life. He’s beautiful in a way that he shouldn’t be. It’s as though, when Rhett looks at him, there’s a glow that’s not around anyone else. He’s the most beautiful person Rhett’s ever seen.
And he’s beautiful like this, too, spread out on Rhett’s desk, flushed and sweaty and hard, saying things Rhett has never heard him say before.
But Rhett pulls off after a second more, a hard suck that has Link crying out loud, and he stands, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. Link looks up at him, eyes questioning, and reaches down with one hand to jerk himself off.
“Why’d you stop?” he whines, and Rhett bites back a moan at the picture he’s painting right now. “I was so close, Rhett. Would have come right inside your mouth had you kept it up, brother.”
Rhett steps in close again, kisses him deep and wet, bites at his bottom lip. “Want to fuck you,” he tells him, groaning loudly when Link uses his free hand to cup Rhett’s erection in his pants. “Gosh, Link, I want to so bad. Can I?”
He gasps, mouths at Link’s temple when he squeezes just right. “I could bend you over this desk, get you nice and wet for me, yeah? Slide my cock right inside you? Fuck you hard and deep until you’re screaming for me. Jeez, fuck.”
“How about I fuck you instead?” Link husks, voice gone deep and thick, settling into Rhett’s chest and warming him up. “How about I take you home with me, spread you out on my bed? Take my time and get you squirming and hot for me? Get that big cock down my throat, swallow around you and make you come like that?”
“Link,” Rhett gasps, feeling his cock twitch in his jeans. He’s going to come just from this, just from his words and his hand barely touching him.
“Would you like that, Rhett?” And he’s popping the button on Rhett’s jeans, fingers moving quick and purposeful until he’s easing him out of his boxers. Rhett watches him lick his palm, wrap his hand back around the base of his cock. He jerks him off just as slowly as Rhett is doing him, twisting when he gets to the head, wet and hot, and gosh, he’s so close.
His hips jerk forward, into the circle of Link’s fist, and he moans loudly, tries his best to bite the noises back, but failing miserably. “Yes, please.”
“Are you close? Gonna come all over me?”
That does it, his hips snap forward and he’s muffling a sob into the side of Link’s head, lips grazing his temple, the top of his ear while he curls in on himself. He comes so hard, body vibrating with it, starting from the base of his gut and thrumming through him. It’s white hot, Link’s voice still coaxing him through it, still mumbling things to Rhett while he twitches and jerks through his orgasm.
Link’s hand doesn’t move, wet now with Rhett’s come, and he takes a second before his sense comes back to him and he realizes Link is thrusting up into Rhett’s slack fist. He’s making little mewling noises, trying to get as much friction as he can without Rhett contributing anything at all.
He does like Link did, shushes his sound of disapproval when he lets go of him entirely. But when Rhett licks his palm, he starts panting, hips working up in tiny little circles before Rhett can even get his grip back on him.
“Gosh, Rhett,” Link gasps the second Rhett wraps his fingers back around him. “So fucking good, baby.”
A chuckle falls out of him, and he feels so good, still a little shaky from how hard he came. It’s so weird, to be doing this with Link, how this feels so natural, like they’ve been doing this for years. They fell into this so suddenly, out of nowhere, literally just minutes ago, and he feels like this should have been happening from the beginning.
He feels like the day he met Link was leading up to this moment.
Especially when Link falls apart underneath him, gasping loudly and saying, “Oh, gosh. Fuck, Rhett. Fuck.” He was made to see the look on Link’s face, his mouth falling slack, his eyes going soft, eyebrows furrowing while his hips jerk hard, cock twitching in Rhett’s hand. His shoulders fall, and he leans forward, hands flying up to find Rhett’s waist. The sound he lets out once it’s all over is guttural, hot and loud in the quiet of the office.
He’s breathing hard, sweaty forehead pressed to Rhett’s shoulder while he comes down. When Rhett looks down between them, he realizes exactly how big of a mess they made. Most of the mess landed on Link’s thighs, and Rhett has an insane moment where he wants to lean down and lick him clean, see if he can get him hard again. Instead, he nuzzles his beard against Link’s neck, listens to the inhale of breath and smiles at the shiver it gets out of him.
“Oh,” Link gasps one more time, sitting up straight again, smile on his lips. Rhett doesn’t step back, but he lets go of Link’s softening cock, gives him a sheepish smile. “You’re good at that.”
He can’t help but laugh, loud and free and feeling so good, warm and sweet, and he wants to wrap Link up in his arms and hold him forever. Link is laughing now, too, but also he’s pulling Rhett down to him again, licking the taste of himself out of his mouth.
When they pull apart, Rhett tells him, “I’m glad that happened.”
Link shoots him a crooked smile. “Yeah, I might start wearing eye shadow more often.”
“It wasn’t just the makeup, brother,” Rhett admits, smile going soft, and he leans in to press his mouth to Link’s forehead.