Below the Mythical Surface (Completed)

Inhaling the Moment

Despite their apparent make up from the fight, Link laid silently awake that night, his eyes a glassy red that begged to close. If he could, he certainly would. Instead he felt the need to propel himself to the far edge of the bed. Far enough away from his wife that he didn't accidentally touch her. He didn't feel worthy of it, terrified that if he did it, she would learn his thoughts and be disgusted with him.

He hated the idea of her knowing, so as he teetered along the precipice, he closed his eyes and pretended not to think of anything... or rather, anyone. That was easier said than done, though, as those things tend to be.

Rhett laid in a similar fashion, awake, that is. He, however was closer physically to his wife than he had been in a while. She was asleep, but still managed to hike her leg across his hips and curl her hair across his chest.

He felt adrift at sea trying to hold on to the only two people in the world that would keep him above the surface. He clutched onto Jessie like a life raft, with her sweet calmness so needed right now, but not wanted anymore. He cared for her so much. She was an amazing wife and loving mother. Funny and understanding to degrees that couldn't be measured by anything on the planet. She was perfect, but she wasn't Link.

The pain of it all settled inside of his heart and waited for him to move. To let go and float towards the other raft. Did he even think he could swim that far, or if Link could handle unsteady weight once he got there?

Neither of them slept, and that was obvious once Link slid into the passenger seat of the car. The rumble of the engine helped settle his his nerves, and they both sat there. Both pausing for the other to decide. One day wasn't enough to figure out the rest of today, let alone their lives, but Rhett shifted in reverse and then his right hand maneuvered to Link's left leg and rested.

Link didn't say anything. He felt a possessiveness in the quiet declaration that he both despised and admired. Link didn't do anything to adjust his leg or touch him in return. He just allowed the idea of being wanted like this find a place in his chest.

"Sleep okay?" Rhett asked, and immediately internally kicked himself. What a stupid question.

"No," the robotic grumble of a voice responded.

"Me neither."

"Okay."

Rhett dealt with a pang of urgency in his gut. Link's words, or lack thereof, cementing the tomb that would seal away this... this thing before it ever even took flight. And so Rhett squeezed the leg a little harder before lazily rubbing up and down. He didn't dare go too high, but it was important to him that Link felt the presence. Needed him to know that it was more than just a warm hand. It was unsaid feelings and prayers to let it keep going. It was all nighters playing games in their parents basements. It was trips to the river, driving down back roads and country music sing alongs. It was drunken heart to hearts and sober philosophical conversations. It was comfort in pain and laughter to heal. It was cooking in the doom room microwave and listening to the other snore. It was being groomsmen, godfathers. It was forever. It was every moment they'd shared rolled in to one. It was a complete and utter lack of understanding of how the time could have slipped by so quickly without them noticing something bubbling just below.

Link eyed the cracked hand, tracing its movement, lining it up with the nerves that it contacted. He pursed his lips and fought his limbs from moving, covering Rhett's with his own.

"Okay," he said again, this one barely audible above the hum of the engine. But Rhett heard it, and the corner of his lip etched upward. Okay.

Parking was tricky with just one arm on the wheel, but Rhett seemed almost hopeless to disconnect again. He could just hear the faintest snicker of Link as he straightened up in the parking spot for the fourth time, but he was new at this type of carpooling. His long limbs would adjust soon enough.