#ehuru

Rhett, when faced with a problem, has an innate need to come up with a solution. That’s just how he’s wired as a human being. He needs to fix things that are wrong. He can’t just walk away from things, leave them in pieces if he knows he can do something about it. 

So when he’s left with the understanding that he’s being let go from his job, that the company is going to fire him and his family is going to go without, he knows he’s gotta do something about it instead of mooching off his family. 

So, he does what he always does. He finds a way. 

The only crossroads in town are fairly out in the open, but he waits until it’s late enough that he knows the roads will be empty. His hands are shaking as he digs the hole, his mouth stumbling through the Latin. But the job gets done, and after a second, some tall, lanky boy is standing across from him with a stupid smirk on his face, talking about how he’s never had someone summon him for something so stupid before. 

“Just get another job.” 

“That’s not--” 

“I mean, I guess I get it, but. Dude, are you really willing to throw your soul away because you don’t want to relocate?” The guy picks at his nails, adjusts his glasses. “You know what Hell is, right?” 

“Man, will you just--”

“I tell you what,” he says. He points a finger at Rhett. “I’m not making this deal with you. I’m going to become your best friend.” 

“How is that going to solve anything?” Rhett asks. “I don’t even know your name, man.” 

“Link.” He gets a hand thrust out, a tilt of the guys head as though to encourage Rhett to shake it. When he doesn’t, Link drops his hands to his sides, shrugs his shoulders. “Listen, I can either send some hell hounds your way in ten years, or you can trust me and see where we end up from here.” 

The night had started off fine, by his standards. 

Things were going fine. He was going to cook some barbecue for himself in his new apartment, have a couple of drinks, catch up on the television he’d missed this week. 

Except, before any of that could happen, he’d sliced his finger open trying to dice an onion, and he’d had to ask his neighbor to drop him off at the emergency room for stitches. 

The problem, even beyond any of that, is ultimately that he doesn’t handle blood well, just in general. And his own blood? There’s no hope for staying conscious at that point. 

The emergency room is empty, thankfully, and they have him in a room in just a few minutes, on fluids because he fainted almost as soon as they’d gotten him settled, asked him to see the finger he’d sliced. The old dishtowel he’d managed to wrap around it before finding his neighbor is soaked through with blood, and every time he glances over at it, he feels his stomach flutter. 

“Mr. Neal?” 

There’s a tall-- ridiculously tall, even without the three inches of hair he’s got standing straight up-- man in scrubs walking in, looking suspiciously like he might be the one to stitch him up. Link gives him a look, says, “That’s me.” 

“My name’s Rhett McLaughlin,” he says, extending a hand out for Link to shake. When Link does so tentatively, he tells him, “Can I take a look at that other hand for you?” 

“Look, I don’t do too great with blood,” Link starts, extending his other hand, the one wrapped in too much gauze. The one that’s still managing to bleed through too much gauze. “Like, seriously.” 

Rhett hums under his breath, gives Link a look. And then he says, “Want me to blindfold you?” 

“That’s the first time I’ve been asked that before at least dinner and a movie.” 

looking real nice ��

touchinganelectricdove replied to your photoset “~feelin myself~”

your kind eyes are the loveliest��

ehuru replied to your photoset “~feelin myself~”

NICE

heatgeneratingtechniques replied to your photoset “~feelin myself~”

lookin' good ;D

Thank you!! I do love their wives so much XD to live with Rhett and Link must be a trial ...

Thank you!! It's such a relief to actually post it lol, I've been working on it since September last year!