Delirium

delirium

link stays up most nights wondering what it’d be like. he feels needy, replaying the same scenes like they console the broken parts of his heart. he’s making it worse, dreaming up the missing pieces, but then rhett shows up with a girl, another blonde, and his imagination sharpens. link’s lovesick, jealous and obsessed. he’s spending tonight alone in his room, wishing they’d never moved into a house together, pining for the 25year-old he’s bound his life to. 

rhett’s out tonight, and link’s curled up in his blankets, deep in a fantasy of what it’d be like to date him. the girls he brings home always like him, starry-eyed and draping themselves on his tallness, fitting their hips between his big hands and leaning on their tip-toes for beardy kisses. and when rhett takes them out, link imagines what it’d be like to ride with rhett somewhere special. for rhett to put on all his best moves, reserve a date night in a restaurant above his means just to prove he’s more than handsome. more than smug, masculine, reaching a hand under the table for his date’s thigh, giving his best toothy grin, wiggling his eyebrows. he’d be too charming, magnificent, and link whines in the dark. 

he plays with the idea of rhett showing him off like he does what’s-her-name, parading link as his boyfriend, touching him in confidence like they’re both lucky to be pretty. link thinks about being with him in a group, tucked into his side at a bonfire, a park, a movie night. kissing him against the door of a car, worming a hand into his pocket. calling him beau and babe, being praised in return. being touched, hugged, kissed, claimed. link feels himself get hot as his brain defies him, leads him into territory he’s desperate to avoid, but never does.

link thinks about laughter in daylight and moans after nightfall. dating rhett means having him in that way, the one way link’s never had for himself, and he burns in his lonely bed, kicking off his blankets. link breathes hard through his nose and keeps his hands at his sides as the fantasy takes control of him - rhett pushing him through the house after a late-night date, mouth gnawing kisses into his neck as his hands rove under his t-shirt. those girls, they have rhett when he’s warm, aroused and pliant, when he’s snuffling into their chests and sucking them where they’re sensitive. when his bigness is horizontal, crushing the body beneath him and squirming like an animal impatient to mate.

he’s heard the moans, link has, and the noises of a squeaking bed and breathless grunts fill his head as his hand sneaks down the front of his boxers. memory and fantasy meet in imaginary sensation, and link can almost feel rhett’s body pressing him down. rhett’s hand on him, tongue in his ear, telling him you’re mine, and god says we’re allowed to make love… calling him honey, warming link up in perfect touches like a boyfriend familiar to the curves of his body, licking him where it feels good and fitting between his legs.

link throws his head back in a whine as the scenes flick, tightens his hand on himself and rolls through confused images of rhett in bed, rhett in his arms, rhett as his date. he’s panting, whimpering under his breath, so lost to what could be, should be, isn’t, squirming like he’s sure dating rhett would leave his partner in a state of delirium. link burns in swirling ecstasy as his whines grow ever-noisier, and he’s so worked up that he doesn’t hear rhett return from his date.

he doesn’t hear rhett tell a female friend to wait in the den, his footsteps as he approaches link’s bedroom door, nor his ragged breath, and he definitely doesn’t hear rhett clap a hand over his mouth and groan into it because he can hear link on the other side, whining and crying rhett’s name in delirious pleasure.