Below the Mythical Surface (Completed)

Line in the Sand

Rhett took his time leaving the office. One leg at a time into his jeans. Zipped his jacket up languidly, then unzipped it again, but put his hood up to try and shield his face from anyone else that could be around. He looked through each room for Link, but found them empty, and with an achy heart he realized that he must have found someone else to take him home. Rhett coughed back a sob, sorrowfully dragging himself to his empty car to make the drive back to his house. Alone.

He took a longer route than he needed to; driving down streets that he barely paid any attention. He wasn't ready to go home. To be a husband. A father. He needed more time to just be hurt. And mad. And regretful.

He thought about calling Link; laying into him like he'd never been yelled at before. He thought about calling Link; begging him for forgiveness and telling him that he had a momentary moment of weakness and that it wouldn't happen again. He thought about calling Link; calling him all of those sweet things that he loved to hear and hoping it could get him panting and moaning his name. He thought about calling Link; but he didn't.

His family bid him a happy Hello once he was home. His boys runnin past him with hoots and hollers, his wife smiling happily over her shoulder as she buried herself with tidying the living room. That smile fell when she really looked at him. The down crease of his lips, his darkened eyes and reddened nose.

"You okay, sweetie? You look like hell." She grabbed each of his biceps and peered into his eyes, searching his souls for answers, but he'd already had one prepared.

"I don't feel good. I think I'm gonna lay down."

He didn't wait for further questions, spinning on his head and trudging up the steps to his bedroom. His shoes were kicked off somewhere in a darkened corner, but everything else remained as he face planted into his pillow, taking long drags of oxygen to try and calm his frazzled nerves. Surely everything would be okay tomorrow, he thought. Link never was one to stay too mad for too long.

The telltale sound of a text message sounded from his pocket, and he fumbled to dig out his cellphone, squinting into the bright light.

L: (8:46pm) Won't need a ride tomorrow.

His heart pounded in his chest, and sweat formed all over. He was so hot and so cold that it was dizzying... maddening if he really thought about it.

R: (8:47pm) Can I call you?

Minutes ticked by like hours, and silence was his only companion. He wished beyond anything else that Link wouldn't have turned off the read receipts on his phone so that he could at least know if he was being ignored or if Link was actually busy. Finally, finally his phone sounded again, but it was anything but what he wanted.

L: (9:01pm) No.

R: (9:01pm) Please. I hate this. Everything about it.

There was no response, and Rhett could feel himself coming undone by the seams. He was always so used to knowing what was going to come next between the two of them. He knew Link better than he knew himself but now, there was mystery that terrified him more than anything else. The kiss that started all of this seemed ages ago. Lost in a memory on top of a memory that was figgy and distant inside his own mind.

And yet...

Rhett could still feel the way Link's hips felt against his skin. The warmth of his breath as it invaded his neck and lips. The sound of his moans as they pressed their bodies to the bedsheets. Rhett inhaled, and then closed his eyes. Link was there. Even in the darkness Link floated through his soul. Handsome and forever present. Rhett needed him like he didn't know was possible.