“It was a joke, baby. I swear.” :):)
Link slammed the door of their small dorm room and went straight to the fridge, grabbing a can of beer and throwing himself into his desk chair. As he cracked it open, Rhett burst through the door, eyes wide with concern.
“Come on man, it was a joke!” Rhett explained for the millionth time, “seriously it was just supposed to be funny.”
“Wax paper taped to the rug? Are you kidding me? That’s not even funny that’s just stupid!” Link ranted back, raising his arms in the air, sloshing his beer in the process. Rhett has seen his best friend angry before, but this was different. Link was PISSED.
“It was like the Wax Paper Dogz, I thought you’d appreciate the humor,” Rhett said, meekly, eyes down downcast. “Fucking hilarious,” Link rolled his eyes in response and took another long sip of his drink.
“It was a joke, baby, I swear,” Rhett pleads, desperation to calm his friend overtaking all of the sense he had left in him. The words simply fell out of his mouth faster than he could stop them. There was a pause and the air in the room became heavy.
“Baby,” Link said simply, testing out the word in his mouth. All the anger seemed to be sucked out of him as he processed what had just happened. “That’s... new,” the lack of judgement in Links tone was the only thing keeping Rhett from wanting to disappear into the floor.
“Yeah, that was a joke t-,” Rhett began, but was immediately interrupted with a “No, it wasn’t.” Here it was, a choice. Rhett could try and play it off, like he always did. Use humor to mask his feelings and laugh it off. Make it another “gotcha” moment of many. All of the “don’t touch me”’s and the “love you like a brother”’s flashed into his head. All of the missed opportunities of the past. All of the times he hid from his feelings instead of confronting them head on. He had a decision to make. Continue as is, or interrupt the pattern.
“No, it wasn’t, baby,” Rhett responded, softly, earnestly, “I’m really sorry, by the way. Are you hurt?” Link nodded slightly and pouted while pointing to his elbow. Instinctively, and in a way testing the dynamic that had just shifted in the room, Rhett leaned in and pressed his lips softly against the injured area. His voice was husky and low when he spoke again, “Anywhere else?” Link pointed and Rhett kissed. His shoulder. His collarbone. His neck. Until finally, Link pointed to his lips, his finger shaking slightly. Rhett continues with their game and leaned in, pressing his lips against the plush ones of his best friend, no his soul mate. The first connection was chaste, but as they started to pull away they pressed back together like magnets. This time they explored deepening the kiss, Link’s tongue being granted permission into Rhett’s mouth, and Rhett’s hands finding purchase on Link’s lithe waist.
After time that could be described as seconds or an eternity, they pulled away. “It’s good to see you smile again,” Rhett whispered, inches away from Link’s lips. “You too, baby,” was the soft reply.
