Call Me Yours [BL]

Chapter 13 Part 2

Ardyn gets separated from everyone after he uses the bathroom. Prince is nowhere to be found, Kahili is talking with his employees in the living room, the distant and unfamiliar gush of fashion heard from the small circle, and Valen is in a small circle of his own with people he doesn't recognize.

Too many scents clog Ardyn's nose.

He shies into the empty kitchen and pretends to contemplate the stacks of alcohol. He doesn't drink enough to recognize any of them, so he settles for a water bottle from one of the various coolers. It's cold when it slides down his throat and doesn't pass the time nearly as fast as he hoped.

Ardyn is in the middle of reading the labels of the snacks when someone joins him in the kitchen.

"Are you hiding?"

He visibly startles, ears perking before they press flat into his hair when a low voice tickles his neck. Ardyn smells him before he peers over his shoulder. "Not hiding," he denies softly, a smile building on his lips when he turns to face Kahili. Except, he was hiding, and the familiar scent of Kahili's masculine cologne soothes him.

"You're just like Val," Kahili chuckles fondly.

Ardyn's eyes roam the room, grazing over every unfamiliar head until he spots Valen. You're just like Val, Ardyn disagrees. Valen is captivating in the center of the room, surrounded by people Ardyn can't even distinguish the features of. There's something to be said about the way people gravitate toward him, the natural and magnetic force that draws them in.

Valen appears to thrive from it. Ardyn can't look away from how he hides his smile behind a hand, his lips stretched into something so alluring and practiced. He doesn't talk much, but every pair of eyes seems to watch him for validation. To see if he laughs, does he smile at their jokes, does he approve of them standing next to him.

He's enchanting as he commands the room with nothing more than his presence.

Kahili is the first to look away.

He reaches behind Ardyn to grab two beers, his scent growing intoxicatingly thick when he steps closer. The invasion is deliberate and effective. Ardyn can feel the warmth radiating from him. Kahili's eyes click down when Ardyn's breath hitches. They're dark and inviting, a glint in them that makes anticipation swirl in Ardyn's stomach.

The counter presses into Ardyn's back, nothing but a tangible reminder that he's trapped. "It's quieter outside." Kahili's voice draws low and suggestive. "If you needed some air."

Ardyn needs some air.

Kahili's hand is unexpected on Ardyn's lower back as he guides them upstairs. It's warm and it's large, and Ardyn is flustered. A wide sliding door comes into view. Kahili slides it open. He nods his head for Ardyn to go first, then the deafening noise of the door slides shut and they're alone.

There's still the thrum of music, distant and muffled with the door closed, but the cool air is a welcome caress on Ardyn's skin. He accepts the beer Kahili holds out with a quiet, thank you.

The large balcony is as exquisite as the inside of the house. A wide, unruffled couch sits in invitation, its tan cushions too plush for such a secluded area. Too luxurious as it sits on top of a rug that doesn't suit the harsh weathers that come in the Fall.

Ardyn favors leaning against the balcony railing while he sports his beer. It's cold and wet in his hands, and it burns going down his throat.

Kahili tracks the movement of his swallow.

"26," Ardyn muses, offering a smile. "How does it feel?"

"Like 25." Then he adds, "And 24."

Ardyn's smile grows. "What about 23?"

"23 was," Kahili drawls, thoughtful, "23 was a good year for me."

Tell me about it, Ardyn says, when their position is so similar to downstairs. The railing—a constant pressure on his back, and the only thing preventing him from toppling right over the edge. Kahili stands with a closeness that Ardyn welcomes with coy and visible interest.

Kahili is large and imposing, trapping Ardyn in this small space all over again, and his voice dips with just the right amount of invitation. It's rich and it's honeyed, and it spikes with amusement when he notices Ardyn staring at his lips.

"This artist reached out to me," he starts. "I figured it was her manager or something, she was pretty well known, too well known to have been messaging me personally, but she asked me to design her something. She had this whole planned surprise on the last date of her tour, and she wanted to do an outfit change." His eyes grow distant as he talks. "Her vision was—nothing even similar to what I design. It was big, y'know? Pop-star big, and dramatic."

He continues, "I had no reason to say no, though. I spent weeks on it, and she had plenty to say after each time I finished and showed her. She was a nice girl," he assures. "Really sweet. You could just tell she cared a lot about it and wanted it to look a certain way. She ended up loving it, I wanna say the fourth time I altered it, and..." His head nods, then looks down at Ardyn. "Things got better after that."

"Better?" Ardyn echoes.

"I got a lot of recognition for it," he explains. "Like I said, she was a really sweet girl. She went above and beyond what she had to do to make sure people knew I designed it. And," he nods, "Things got better. I showcased my first line, and had my first fashion show." He smiles and adds, "I got married."

Ardyn chews at his lip only to suppress his own smile. Kahili looks fond as he shakes his head and downs a sip of his beer. "It was a good year. Years," he finishes. "What about you? Do you have a favorite year?"

"No," Ardyn giggles. "But you're making me hopeful for 23."

Kahili chuckles. "You're young, you'll have plenty of good years to come."

"22 isn't so bad," Ardyn confesses softly.

He looks up at Kahili, shy but expressive with his smile.

Kahili's hand finds its place on Ardyn's hip, and later, when Ardyn asks about it, he'll say it's because he didn't trust the railing. "I met Valen when I was 22," he says, his voice quiet and intimate in the small space between them. "It's a good year to be."

Ardyn hums his agreement, because 22 has been treating him uncharacteristically well. It's not like 21, and it's drastically different from 20. 22 is an unfamiliar and growing force that Ardyn wants to get lost in. Right on the cusp of adulthood and the large responsibilities he's not ready to bear yet. He thinks he could stay this way forever—under the moonlight and Kahili's piercing gaze.

"26 seems like it'll be just as memorable," Kahili utters, eyes drawn down in ways that Ardyn can't misinterpret. It's too blatant, too intimate under the silvery glow that bathes the balcony in a serene, ethereal light.

Ardyn indulges, "You look like you wanna kiss me."

And when Kahili draws a thoughtful hum, Ardyn coaxes, "Birthday kiss?"

Kahili chuckles, fond and endeared, and dips down to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft exploration of intimacy. The moon bears witness to their indulgence as their breaths mingle and Kahili's hand cups Ardyn's jaw. His other hand blindly reaches out and sets his beer down on the railing, but it misses its mark and hits the balcony floor with a thud. It goes ignored as Kahili cups Ardyn's jaw with both hands free.

Ardyn makes a soft noise, pleasant and alluring in Kahili's ears.

His hand reaches out and his fingers curl into Kahili's shirt. There's a gentle tug, then Kahili steps forward and into his space. His scent wraps around Ardyn and smothers him from the inside out. He wants to drown in it as Kahili parts his lips.

They only break away when the sliding door opens. "Kahili," someone drawls. "You and Valentine, put your d***s away, and come eat your cake. Half of it is already gone."

Ardyn can't look away from the rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm coming."

"Valen—"

"I'm coming," Kahili repeats, looking over his shoulder. Ardyn's fingers tighten in his shirt, a silent plea. Kahili towers over him and hides his smaller frame, and Ardyn isn't sure what he'll do if Kahili steps away and exposes him.

The door slides shut.

Kahili looks down at him.

"Taylor," he explains. "Val's brother."

"Right," Ardyn says.

He waits for Kahili to step away and head inside, to leave him there and celebrate his birthday with his staff and friends like he probably should've from the start. But Kahili stays, he stays with a regretful laugh as he stares at the spilled beer. "Fuckin—" his head shakes. "I should clean that." He makes no move to, just as he makes no move to step away from Ardyn.

"Aren't you gonna go inside?"

"I'm not a big fan of sweets."

Ardyn bites his lip. Kahili's eyes drop to them.

"We can share mine," Ardyn suggests, smiling small and offering out his beer. He doesn't think about their kiss—not how strongly Kahili tasted like beer, nor how much he liked it. He'll do something crazy if he does, like kiss him again.

They share his bottle until it's gone and just an empty weight in Ardyn's hand. He likes the comfort holding something brings. He doesn't wring his hands together when Kahili stares at him with something indescribable in his eyes, but his hands tighten around the bottle. He blushes and grips it like a lifeboat. "I felt nervous about coming," Ardyn confesses. "Valen told me it would be a lot of people, and this atmosphere. It's.."

"A lot?" Kahili finishes for him.

Ardyn agrees. "A lot. I'm not used to all of this. I still feel shocked coming to your house. I don't know if I'll ever get used to it."

Kahili nods as Ardyn's words weigh heavily on him. He's quiet before he says, "I've been wanting to apologize to you for a while."

Ardyn's ears perk, a tilt to his head. "Apologize?"

Kahili is tall and invasive in his space. He leaves little room for Ardyn to shift about, but it's a closeness that Ardyn's struck by. His fingers don't curl in Kahili's shirt anymore, but they play with the hem of his shirt, coy and demure, but so attentive as he peers up at Kahili.

"I could tell I upset you a few weeks ago," Kahili reveals. "It wasn't intentional, but I know I did, and I'm sorry."

"Upset me? When?"

"We were in the car and you were telling me about your photography—"

Ardyn makes a noise of understanding. He pushed the uncomfortable car ride from his memory shortly after it happened, because he prefers memories like this. When Kahili is so attentive to him and Ardyn might be crazy enough to kiss him again. "You don't have to be sorry. It wasn't a big deal." How earnestly Kahili's apologizing makes him giggle. "How long were you thinking about this?"

"A while," he confesses, then chuckles.

"It wasn't a big deal," Ardyn assures, and he means it. "I know you meant..." He searches for the right words, unsure how to explain that someone with Kahili's standing, adamant Ardyn follow his passions isn't encouraging. It sat with him in irritable ways. "You meant well, I know that."

"I was thinking of myself," Kahili says. "It's a bad habit I have. I say or do things that I know I'd like, and it bites me in the ass a lot when I don't consider who I'm saying it to." He continues, "23 was a great year for me, but there was 21, and there was 20. And there was every year before that, when I really just wanted someone to tell me that."

"Follow your dreams," he mocks, regretful of himself. "I know what it looks like when someone like me says that to someone in your position. I really do, and I'm sorry it came off ignorant."

Ardyn swallows thickly.

His eyes dance around Kahili's face, unprepared for how earnest he seems.

Ardyn doesn't know what to say, what any of it implies, so he quietly asks, "What was 20 like?"

He feels something tighten in his chest as he stares up at Kahili. There's an inkling in his veins like he knows what Kahili's going to say, and he knows he won't know what to say when he does.

"20 was..." A hard year for him. But to talk about that, he'd need to talk about about 16, and 18, and every year after that. As he stares down at Ardyn, he finds himself starting from the very beginning, when his love for fashion started.

Kahili tells him about his full-ride scholarship to university. "It was my first time on the Mainland. New York, of all places." And then he backtracks to high school, about their design program, all the contests he entered, how he spent months working on a portfolio with his fashion teacher. How every passing day felt like a race against the clock, an unmoving weight crushing his chest with every day that passed and no acceptance letters came.

Some came, eventually, with tuitions he could never afford.

Community college was his next option.

And then another letter in the mail, offering him a 4-year scholarship. "It was supposed to be this whole moment, y'know? I finally did it. I was gonna show my parents, I did it." His head shakes, and he sighs. "They were excited. They were over the moon for me. And they were always like that with anything I did. Just—so happy for me. But this—their faces when I told them I was going into fashion."

They pleaded for months, until those pleas turned into arguments that rocked the entire house. Kahili remembers his youngest sister's face when he slammed the door. He remembers how she jumped and her eyes turned wide. How she ran away to hide. "They wanted me to go into business. They begged me to, up until the very last day I left."

Ardyn's fingers play with his shirt, his eyes are cast down, but he nods with an understanding Kahili feels shaken by.

"And I did, for a while," Kahili says. "I did both, because..." His words trail off, but Ardyn nods again, and Kahili knows he doesn't have to try to explain. "It was too much, I wasn't doing as well as I should've in my classes. I dropped my business classes and focused on fashion."

"I turned 20, eventually. I still hadn't done anything with my fashion. I had all these ideas, and none of them turned out. I was busy all the time. I was working two jobs, I tutored on the side, and I barely kept up with my classes." He regretted it endlessly when he was in his third year of college and had accomplished nothing. He wished he listened to his parents.

"It was hard," he confesses. "Leaving home was hard and New York was too much."

Why can't you just support me? "My parents are good parents. I don't want you to get the wrong impression of what I'm telling you. They would do anything for me and sacrificed a lot. My mom and I, we have a great relationship." He felt anger for years, anger blanketing the heavy feelings of underlying sorrow from their lack of support. He didn't realize how much they truly supported and nurtured him in every aspect of his childhood until that moment.

He felt angry that he understood.

"It's not practical," he says. "And there's no guarantee of a career. We were poor. We were really poor, and they didn't want that for me. Wasting my education on something that had no safety net."

"But I just wished they'd told me I could do it, y'know? Just once."

20 was a hard year.

He doesn't tell Ardyn of his dad's passing, but he tells him, "I never finished college."

Ardyn glances up, surprise evident on his features.

"I went back home when I was 20. My mom—she needed help with my sisters. She couldn't work and raise them. So," Kahili went home and he worked in his dad's place. He set aside his passion and worked so they could pay the bills. And with the free time he had, he designed clothes. He sold them at markets with his sisters on the weekend, and he posted them on social media.

He doesn't tell Ardyn how his throat closes when he thinks of his dad and how he'll never see Kahili finally did it. But he does tell him, "My sisters helped me a lot. I tried giving fashion up for a while, but I love designing. They would always help me cut fabrics. I'd come home from work and—and they'd just be... cutting fabric." His voice dies off as melancholy settles in his throat.

He stares at the railing as thoughts of his family consume him.

He thinks of his dad and their last conversation. Why can't you just support me?

I don't want you to be like me, Kahili.

His dad worked two jobs Kahili's entire childhood. He remembers the sting he felt when his dad threw Kahili's two jobs back in his face. You didn't have to leave home to overwork yourself.

Ardyn's hand grabs him and pulls him out from under. He didn't realize he was drowning.

"Okay," Ardyn says. He holds Kahili's hand with his and squeezes, unable to look him in the eye. "I forgive you."

Kahili swallows. His mouth opens—then the sliding door sounds.

"Kahili," a voice sings, sultry and soothing. It sends a shiver down his spine. "Taylor's under the impression I've been hiding you."

"I'm coming," Kahili says. He hesitates just like last time, so Ardyn lets go.

Kahili's footsteps are light when they walk away from him, only slowing when he's by Valen. His husband leans against the door frame, a gentle question in his eyes as he watches Kahili. Some sort of realization crosses his face. Valen pushes away from the doorframe and crowds him. "Kahili," he utters. The rest of his words go unheard, too far and out of reach from Ardyn.

Valen speaks in low mumbles, concern etched into his features. He nods in understanding when Kahili says something back, and it must be something assuring considering Kahili's smile. He nods his head in Ardyn's direction, and then both of their gazes fall to him.

I'll keep him company, Ardyn hears, and then the door slides shut.

"You don't have to," Ardyn says when Valen stays outside with him. "You can—We can go inside."

"I could use a break." He smiles prettily, such a captivating action that Ardyn can't help but compare to earlier. He's just as entrancing as he was surrounded by Kahili's staff, so similarly charming under the moon's light. It casts a delicate shadow that highlights the curve of his lips and the shine in his eyes, but Ardyn can't help but notice the differences too.

He stands relaxed, joining Ardyn to lean against the railing, and his smile isn't as practiced when he glances at Ardyn. "Your friend was looking for you."

"Prince."

"Prince," Valen repeats. "I think Clem's torturing him."

Ardyn smiles despite himself. "He's tough, he can take it."

Things are a little weird between them, Ardyn can feel it. The noticeable gap Valen leaves between them, the stretching silence that Ardyn doesn't know how to fill. An apology sits in his mouth, one he's been crafting since the day he all but ran from their house, but he swallows it back like a coward. He wouldn't even know what he's apologizing for, but he knows things are weird.

"Thanks for coming." Valen tears his eyes away from the moon and settles them on Ardyn. "He's happy you did."

"I wanted to," Ardyn says, and means it.

Another stretch of silence passes between them.

He hates it. And he hates the way it doesn't seem to bother Valen. His shoulders are relaxed, not an ounce of tension squeezing his body as it does Ardyn's

Ardyn squeezes the empty beer bottle, and he can't quite stop himself from mumbling, "—tonight."

Valen's watchful eyes take Ardyn in with a tilt of his head. "What?"

Ardyn blushes and shakes his head. The heat burns his cheeks when Valen frowns and steps forward. "I didn't hear you, that's all," he assures, attentive to Ardyn's growing embarrassment. His hand reaches out and smooths itself on Ardyn's hip. "Can you tell me again?"

The blush deepens with Valen watching him so thoughtfully. It was easier when he wasn't as close, when his scent wasn't as intense and intrusive, and his touch didn't scald Ardyn through his clothes. "...You haven't called me any names tonight."

Ardyn can't look him in the eye.

"Did I... Are you mad at me?"

Valen looks astounded.

Then his expression melts into one of regret as he takes the beer bottle from Ardyn and delicately sets it on the floor. Ardyn didn't realize how tightly he'd been gripping it, how much of a comfort it brought until Valen took it away. The uncertainty of what to do with his hands quells when Valen grabs both his hands in his. "No," he says, a strength to his voice Ardyn's never heard. "No, baby, I'm not mad at you."

Ardyn nods, but Valen presses.

"I'm not, darling," he promises. "Did I make you feel like I was?"

"No," Ardyn denies. "I just..."

"It's okay if I did," Valen assures, then confesses. "I felt embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?"

Valen squeezes Ardyn's hands like his own safety net. "How we left things off last week," he explains. "Kahili is better with.. these things. He wants to sit down right away and talk things through, but I just... ignore them." He frowns, then asks, "Was I ignoring you?"

"No," Ardyn denies again, because Valen still texted him, he still smiled at him in ways that stole Ardyn's breath, and conversation flowed when they both tried. But there was also the lack of pet names and the small touches that Ardyn was growing used to. "I don't know. Were you?"

Valen is quiet while his eyes trace Ardyn's face. "I don't know," he eventually admits.

Ardyn's chest grows tight. "I don't want you to ignore me."

Valen nods and his hands twitch in Ardyn's hands. There's a squeeze—from both of them.

"I won't," Valen promises.

It's Ardyn's turn to nod.

Valen steps forward, so similar to how Kahili trapped him, but Valen isn't tall like Kahili. He's not as big as Kahili. He's not as strong as Kahili, but he shakes Ardyn's nerves exactly as Kahili does.

"I won't, okay?" Valen stares into Ardyn's eyes. "Still my baby?" he asks, and smiles when Ardyn flushes and nods.

Things are easier after that. That ball of tension slips away and Ardyn breathes better for it when Valen rubs up and down his sides in a soothing manner, so familiar. I missed this, Ardyn thinks and is almost crazy enough to say, I missed you.

He's still got some brain cells left, so instead, he giggles as Valen teases, "I didn't get him a gift. Bringing you was my gift."

"I don't think he'd consider that much of a gift."

"I think you're underestimating Kahili then." He squeezes Ardyn's hips, then pulls away. His head nods toward the door and a playful smirk starts to play on his lips. "Should we see what the birthday boy thinks?"

"No," Ardyn protests, but he's laughing as Valen pulls him into the house and they search for Kahili.

His hand is warm in Valen's.

They do, eventually, find Kahili. He's laughing with Taylor in the kitchen, his deep chuckle resounding and attractive in the room.

"It's not for me," Clementine stresses.

Taylor holds the cake knife hostage and points it accusingly at his little brother. "You had five slices already."

"It's not for me this time!"

"Just give him the fuckin' cake," Kahili laughs.

"Give him some cake," Valen says, letting go of Ardyn's hand to stand next to his brothers. "How big do you want it, Clem?"

Valen takes the knife from Taylor and cuts a generous piece from Kahili's cake. It's almost entirely gone. Clementine looks ridiculous as he hovers behind Valen, towering over his older brother by at least three heads. "Can I have two please?" he whispers to Valen, eyeing Taylor warily.

"I told you!"

Clementine flips Taylor off. "Bite me."

Valen cuts him two slices. "Here, Clem."

Clementine quickly grabs the plates, rushes out thank you, thank you, thank you, and is off before Taylor can give him any more s**t for it.

"He's a bottomless pit, I swear," Taylor says. He leaves with a wave of his hand and mumbles something about the bathroom.

Ardyn eyes the last slice of cake, if you can even call it that. It's a sliver of the bottom left corner, more frosting than cake, and surrounded by white crumbs.

Valen wields the knife thoughtfully. "Wanna share it?" he asks Ardyn. "I didn't see you eat any earlier."

You were watching me? "Sure," Ardyn replies breathily.

Valen's definition of share is drastically different from Ardyn's. Ardyn expects two plastic forks, and when Valen only grabs one he has no problem with sharing, but he isn't sure what to do when Valen holds out the fork to feed him.

Ardyn can do nothing more than blush and open his mouth.

Kahili watches them as he leans back against the counter, smiling small. "How is it?"

"Good," Ardyn mumbles. He licks his lips and has no time to prepare before Valen holds out another bite for him to eat.

Kahili chuckles.

"You should try it," Ardyn encourages, after his third bite. He doesn't think he can handle the eye contact with Valen as he parts his lips and accepts more cake.

"I feel full just watching you," Kahili assures. "You can finish it."

Valen pauses. He turns to Kahili and asks, "Did you not have any?"

"Val—"

Valen stabs at the remainder of the cake and holds it up for Kahili.

He accepts it with an amused glint in his eye, not nearly as affected as Ardyn with the intimate eye contact. He looks down at Valen and drawls lowly, "Delicious."

"I thought you didn't like sweets?" Ardyn asks.

"What?" Valen says. "Kahili loves sweets."

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