Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The song had been perfect: one guitar, a soulful harmony, and their distinct voices. Add in their trademark humor, and he knew it was an instant hit. A superb way to begin this particular adventure.
Rhett climbed into the tub of chicken noodle soup, nerve endings throughout the length of his body awakening to the strange sensations. The broth was warm and smelled delicious, but the feeling of the slippery noodles beneath him was both intriguing and a bit disturbing. But that was the kind of thing he and Link did on their show, Good Mythical Morning. He laughed it off and eased in, making room for his partner.
Link joined him, their legs touching slightly as he settled into the metal tub, both of them laughing at the absurdity of the situation as they began the segment.
“Grab some noodles, but grab noodles, not noodle.” Rhett smirked at his friend as he made the joke, giving in to the comfortable place he and Link had found somewhere along the way. Neither of them acknowledged it openly, or could pinpoint exactly when it happened, but sometime, especially in the last year, they had slipped into this place of innuendo and flirtation, of almost too long gazes and eyebrow raises to the camera. Rhett didn’t know what Link really thought about it. Perhaps he took it as part of the act, something the fans reacted positively to, which they certainly did, but Rhett liked to think it was just another layer of their friendship, a place where they could acknowledge the unique nature of their relationship. Even after 30 years, their relationship was constantly evolving. This was just the next step.
And they always walked off set just as good of friends as they had always been, if not better. After all, if they could sit together in tiny shorts in a tiny tub, they could surely joke with each other in this new way.
After a few minutes, a bite of noodles each, a can of soda, and a strange reading from a book, Link proposed they submerge in the soup, something they had done with nearly every bath-related video they had made.
“I’mma turn sideways for this,” Link said, holding back a giggle, as Rhett sank down further into the salty broth. Link leaned his toned arms on Rhett’s long leg, the intimacy of the gesture belying his need to avoid such contact with his friend.
Rhett placed the book between them, joking about creating a barrier, and ducked his head into the golden liquid.
As his head went under, he felt something wholly unexpected. Link’s hand moved to Rhett’s knee, and traveled slowly down the inside of his leg, past where it too was submerged. The hand was slow, but purposeful, and stopped just before the border of leg and elsewhere, squeezing ever so gently, sending a rippling chill through Rhett’s core..
Rhett opened his mouth to yell before remembering where he was, and took in a mouthful of broth, nearly choking on it. He emerged with his face covered in noodles and bits of chicken skin, too stunned for a moment to say anything.
But as he opened his eyes and commented on the salty taste in his mouth, he noticed that Link had not moved. Link’s arms rested exactly where they had been.
He dumbly commented again on the salt, not knowing what else to say. Had he imagined that touch? Did he mistake a floating noodle for Link’s strong hand?
Maybe.
That seemed impossible, though. Surely, he knew the difference between an overcooked noodle floating randomly through the broth and a hand deliberately tracing its way down his leg.
But they were still filming, so Rhett quickly dismissed the idea entirely and continued on as if nothing had happened. He was a performer, after all, and he had to keep going.
Yet, his mind wandered again when Link emerged and declared, with a look on his face that wasn’t quite familiar, that the bath had been “weird, a lot bit” and practically begged to get out. Rhett’s own face went nearly blank for a moment as he tried to process it.
Had Link in fact touched him and was now regretting it? Had it been a joke gone awry?
As Link bounced off giddily to take a shower, Rhett remained for a few minutes, still working those few short minutes through his mind, trying to make sense of it. After enough time had passed, he went into the studio so he could shower, moving silently, knowing the crew was wondering what was wrong with him. He was never that quiet during filming.
The water was still running as Rhett entered their private office and approached the bathroom door, so he knocked hard and called “Hey, man, hurry it up! I’m gross!”
Link’s reply was muffled by the sound of the water. “I’ll just leave the water running. Come on in.”
Rhett involuntarily raised an eyebrow. But, this wasn’t entirely weird, either. Their shower was notorious for taking an eternity for the water to get hot enough, so leaving it on made sense. Sometimes after a particularly messy filming session, one of them would shower and then robe up, leaving the water running for the other.
But it usually involved the first leaving the bathroom before the second entered.
He shrugged. Maybe he was overthinking things. It had been a long couple of weeks getting back into the habits of their daily show after working on other projects all summer, and he was exhausted. His brain always went to strange places when he was tired.
“All right, I’m comin’ in,” he said, turning the doorknob and entering the steamy room. He could just make out Link’s lean silhouette through the misty shower door.
“You’re still in there?”
“Yeah.” Rhett heard a hesitant pause. “I kinda need help.”
Rhett almost doubled over laughing, his booming belly laugh echoing in the small tiled room. “What on earth do you need help with?”
Link sighed. Rhett knew that sigh, the sigh of Link’s embarrassment.
Rhett stifled his laugh, not wanting to hurt Link’s feelings. “Seriously, man, what do you need help with?”
“Noodles,” he finally said. “I can feel them in my hair and I can’t get them out. Help a brother out?” In those two sentences, his voice modulated between resignation and an old, comfortable ease.
“So, you want me to get in there with you?”
“Oh, just get in here!” Link pleaded, the joke still wavering on his tongue. “It’s not like you’ve never seen it!”
That was true. They’d been college roommates and had seen each other in various states of undress many times over the years. But not in such intimate circumstances.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”
Link stepped closer to the showerhead, making room for Rhett. The room was never designed to have a shower in it, and the stall was too narrow and far too short. Rhett could only use it because they’d gotten a showerhead with a hose so you could remove it as needed. Two men in a tub was one thing, but two men, especially one of Rhett’s size, in this shower, was something else entirely. There was barely room to move without their bodies colliding.
Without turning around, Link handed Rhett a bottle of shampoo. “Here. See what you can do,” he said flatly.
Looking down, Rhett could see the tiny bits of noodle contrasting against Link’s shiny black hair. It was no wonder he was having trouble. The noodles had practically disintegrated in the bath and when Link had run his hands through his hair afterwards, all he had done was smash the remnants further into the strands.
Rhett poured a significant amount of shampoo into his hand and then handed the bottle back to Link. He worked up a lather and began working his big hands into Link’s head. He could feel the soft bits of noodle caked onto Link’s scalp and used his fingernails to work them out.
As Rhett worked, he thought he heard deep sighs from Link, but it was hard to tell over the sound of the water. But he could see Link’s shoulders relax as the tension he held there loosened.
After much scrubbing, Rhett reached his arm over Link’s head and took the showerhead down. With one hand, he rinsed, and with the other, carefully checked to make sure every last bit of noodle had been washed away. When he was sure, he replaced the showerhead.
“Done,” he said.
It was only then that Link turned around, the water running in rivers down his lean body. “Thanks,” he said, looking up at Rhett with his big, crystal blue eyes.
Rhett tried to take a step back, but found there was nowhere to go.
“No ... problem.”
But there was a problem. Link should have said thanks and exited without looking at him, the entire incident going to the secret file of their memories, never to be acknowledged. But he hadn’t. And now he was staring up at Rhett, their skin separated by mere centimeters. And those eyes … what was that look?
“I mean it,” Link said, his voice soft and breathy, barely audible over the flow of the water. He placed his hands on Rhett’s waist, gently running them down his hips.
Rhett’s mind whirled and his body tightened with feelings he couldn’t understand. His body acted on its own, as if temporarily controlled by someone else. But there was nothing foreign about the action he took, either. It felt right in a way Rhett could not explain, even to himself. He cupped Link’s face with his hands and bent down, kissing him hard on the lips.
Link immediately reacted, pushing his tongue into Rhett’s mouth with greed. Link’s arms leapt around Rhett’s neck, pushing his body down. Their hips collided, with only the thin fabric of Rhett’s shorts between them.
“Oh god,” Rhett whispered into Link’s mouth. But he didn’t pull away. Acting on pure instinct, he took Link by the shoulders and pressed him into the wall, kissing him the whole time. He let his tongue taste Link, the saltiness of his own mouth mingling with Link’s minty toothpaste, because of course, Link had brushed his teeth immediately after leaving the set.
Rhett took his hands from Link’s shoulders just long enough to push his shorts down, stepping deftly out of them and kicking them to the side. He grabbed Link’s slender hips and pulled them upward, pressing their bodies together. His length hardened as he felt Link’s desire against his lower abdomen.
“Rhett,” the shorter man moaned. He stretched short e sound into two syllables, letting his southern accent take over. That drawl, that sound of home, pulled Rhett even closer, because Link only let his guard down enough to let his southern boy out when he was truly at ease, truly himself. That was a rare gift. Too often, he was all too anxious and analytical to let out the sweet and hilarious man Rhett had come to know as his best friend. Instead, Link often came across as impulse, awkward, and flighty. Few people other than Rhett knew this version of Link.
But here he was, moaning Rhett’s name, and Rhett moaned Link’s name back. He rolled Link’s hips into his own rhythmically, both of their bodies tight with the energy that roiled between them. Rhett grabbed Link’s thigh, pulling it over his hip, and ground his body hard into Link.
At last, Rhett felt himself twitch and tense, and he knew he couldn’t hold back. “Link, I …”
“Yes,” Link said, standing on his toes, his breath tickling Rhett’s ear. The whisper only deepened Rhett’s need.
Rhett braced himself against the wall with one hand, and curled his other arm around Link’s waist, pulling him so close as to become one flesh with the man he had befriended so long ago. It was Link who came first, biting into Rhett’s shoulder to muffle the scream as his body shuddered with the ecstasy. The bite drove Rhett to near madness, and he pulled Link in even tighter, if that was possible, as his own body trembled and quaked.
When it was over, he took Link’s face in his hands and kissed him gingerly; it was a sweet kiss, full of devotion for the man who occupied such a massive space in Rhett’s life. Delirium spread through his body as he continued to feel the aftershocks. He’d been married over a decade, but never had he experienced a high quite like this. He couldn’t form words, so the kiss would have to speak for him.
Barely able to stand, he reluctantly backed away, resting against the other wall, breathing heavily and closing his eyes.
When he opened them, Link was gone. And with him, all evidence that anything had occurred between them at all.