Call Me Yours [BL]

Chapter16

Three days later, Prince's phone buzzes with a text.

It sits on his chest facing up, the screen dimly lit while he lies in his bed and ignores it in favor of watching TV. He lets out a slow exhale and forces the colors of the TV screen back into his vision. It started to blur again, his mind wandering when it shouldn't.

Prince's phone buzzes a second time.

"Who is it?" Ardyn mumbles, cheek pressed onto Prince's chest as they watch Ardyn's current favorite reality show. Prince has no clue what's going on, but they're somehow on the third episode. Ardyn is far more absorbed, mumbling incoherent comments into Prince's shirt when he disagrees with something on the screen. Prince always hums an indifferent reply, unmoved by the heterosexual pairings and their pseudo hope of finding love.

Prince turns his phone over. "Nobody."

Ardyn quiets when he gets sucked into the drama between two girls, so Prince lets his mind wander again. His gaze is unmoving on the screen but it's unfocused and blurry. He can't think past Ardyn's steady weight on him, the mindless foot taps he gives against Prince's foot, and how good he smells.

Prince smells his shampoo, but Ardyn's rainy scent blankets it much stronger. It suits his dark features and soothing soft voice. His scent isn't strong like a rainstorm, but instead, like the first coupling droplets that fall from the sky. Gentle, harmless droplets. The ones that make you hold out your palm and glance up with a growing fondness. I smell rain, you'd smile.

Ardyn is the calm before the storm.

Prince has always loved the rain.

When he realizes how quiet Ardyn's gotten, he asks, "Wanna watch another?"

Prince gets a hummed, muffled reply. It's too unenthusiastic to come from Ardyn—Prince glances down.

Ardyn's foot isn't wiggling anymore. His eyes are closed, and he's not critiquing the absurd challenges on the screen. Prince starts to think he's sleeping, but no, Ardyn's fallen asleep around him enough times for Prince to pinpoint the exact moment he slips under. His chest falls, his lips part, and he curls into the closest thing he can cuddle into.

There's no slow exhale, not like the one Prince gives, and there's nothing dreamlike about his sigh, but he holds onto Prince all the same.

Ardyn curls into his side and Prince stiffens. He's rigid as Ardyn's arm tightens across his torso and he presses his face into Prince's chest. Ardyn's hair falls onto his closed eyelids, black and airy against tan skin. It's not unlike him to cuddle with Prince, but the silence is telling. His breathing betrays he's awake and Prince knows there's an underlying problem.

Prince swallows thickly.

He holds his breath.

His eyes scan the room for anything to focus on—not the TV, it reminds him of Ardyn. Prince's search pauses at their university logo stuck on his water bottle, the sticker old and peeling in bothersome ways. Ardyn gave it to him. Prince quickly moves on. His eyes catch on the light gray hoodie messily thrown over his desk chair. He and Ardyn have matching ones.

Okay, not that. Prince tries the decorations on his wall next, then immediately regrets it when a year-old filmstrip greets him.

It hangs above his desk held by a star sticker. Prince didn't dare a pushpin, unwilling to damage the photo booth filmstrip with a minuscule hole. Three different photos line the vertical strip. They went to a festival together last year and just before they left they spotted a photo booth. Ardyn dragged him inside, tipsy and giggling while he slid a five-dollar bill into the machine. The space was small and their shoulders pressed together the entire time.

He smelled like rain.

Prince felt his chest tighten when he grabbed the two film strips from the dropbox. The last one was his favorite.

He stared at the camera with a playful smirk, just as tipsy and high off endorphins while he held up a peace sign. Ardyn wasn't staring at the camera, not like the last two photos, his head was turned to stare at Prince, his smile startlingly mesmerizing and toothy. His eyes squinted from the force of his smile and his lips were parted, and Prince remembers now, that Ardyn was in the middle of telling him something.

You're my favorite person.

Prince makes the mistake of breathing in. His nerves flare to life.

"Ardyn—" His voice pitches too low, he tries again. "Ardyn."

No reply.

Fuck, Prince sucks in a breath and debates what to do. He could gently jostle Ardyn, or he could sit up and force Ardyn off his chest. There are a number of logical things Prince could do, but he's never been all that logical when it comes to him. Prince breathes through his mouth and he lets Ardyn be. There are selfish reasons involved, Prince won't deny he likes the weight of Ardyn on him, but there's solidarity in his reasoning for not moving him.

Prince understands what it's like to be in heat.

That intense craving for intimacy is electric and irresistible. He can see the gentle beginnings of it in Ardyn's demeanor, his fist curling in Prince's shirt, the way he inches closer and their legs tangle together. Prince swallows again, turning his head to the side to escape his increasingly growing scent. It flares stronger with each passing second, like a rainstorm.

They lay like that for minutes. Prince wants to give him more, he would give Ardyn the world if he could, but Prince is a hybrid too. Ardyn's scent is starting to suffocate him in ways he can't stand.

Prince's noise is pained when Ardyn tips his head up and brushes his nose against Prince's neck. No—Prince pulls away before Ardyn can scent him. It jostles the younger hybrid to open his eyes. Ardyn makes a confused noise when rolls onto his own side of the bed, his expression foggy as he slowly sits up and takes in his surroundings.

Dark eyes settle on Prince.

Prince feels himself flush. A silence stretches between them. "...Your scent.." Prince eventually says.

Ardyn doesn't understand, not at first, but realization dawns when he takes in the intentional space Prince leaves between them, the eye contact Prince avoids, and the flush to his cheeks. Ardyn's blush looks so similar when he reels back. "Sorry, I—" His hands nervously rub into his shorts. They're damp. "..It wasn't supposed to come till tomorrow."

"It's cool," Prince assures.

Another stretch of silence.

"..You feel okay? Can I get you anything?"

Ardyn shakes his head. He licks his lips while that blush remains, pink and distracting as he ruffles the back of his hair unsurely. "I'm okay," he whispers. He clears his throat, then speaks stronger. "Sorry if I..."

"It's cool," Prince says again. He adds, "You didn't."

Ardyn nods.

Prince isn't sure what else to add to this increasingly uncomfortable atmosphere. They're in his room, leaving doesn't seem that appropriate of a reaction. Telling Ardyn to leave seems even more rash, but his scent is wrapping around Prince in intoxicating ways. He'll need to wash his bedding, he knows. He can't possibly sleep in it with Ardyn's heady scent coating everything like this.

Almost four years they've known each other. Four years of living together, they've witnessed enough heats between the both of them, so why does this feel so similar to the first time Ardyn warned him he was going into heat? When they were freshman sharing a single room, forced to abandon their beds when the other was in heat and find accommodations elsewhere.

It's easier now. When Prince can lock himself in his room, throw on his headphones, and only slightly smell Ardyn. It's easier with years of friendship when Prince can leave a plate of food outside his bedroom and they never have to talk about it. It's easier now, as Prince knows when Ardyn's heat is coming and they don't have to send unsure, embarrassed texts to avoid the single dorm they shared.

Four years together, and they've never so much as brushed arms when the other was in heat.

And to be fair, Ardyn isn't completely in heat yet. Pre-heat, that short period where your entire body craves such basic intimacy.

Prince can barely refrain from holding his breath right now, he can't imagine how potent Ardyn's scent will be when it fully settles within him. He doesn't want to be here to find out.

"You're okay," Prince soothes, because he hates how uncomfortable Ardyn looks over something he can't control. "I can't really smell it. You were starting to fall asleep, but I figured you'd rather be in your own room."

The lie brings Ardyn some comfort. He gives a small smile. "I'm gonna," he carefully steps off the bed and tries not to cringe, "go."

Prince watches him. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Ardyn's smile is more assured. "I'm a big boy, Prince," he teases. "I know how to handle my heats."

Prince flushes. "Right." He asks, "Alone?"

Ardyn bites his lip in contemplation as Prince thinks of Kahili and Valen—of Kahili's party. Prince distantly saw them up on the balcony, secluded from everyone else and in their own little bubble. He remembers not being able to find Ardyn, and when he finally did, the younger hybrid smelled so strongly of someone else.

Prince's night ended so similarly, in a tangle of limbs and breathy moans, so he isn't one to judge. He's not, but Prince felt nothing but contempt when he smelled Ardyn just as strongly on Kahili.

"Alone," Ardyn decides, nodding.

Prince feels relief.

______

Prince moves with practiced ease as he filters around the kitchen. He stocks the fridge with Ardyn's favorite flavored water from their pantry and leaves out easy-to-grab snacks on the table. The world is silent, his mind is silent. His headphones are a constant pressure on his head, muffling the sound of the fridge closing. No music plays, but everything is muted.

Two hours pass with Ardyn locked in his room. He calls out of work and Prince denies taking his shift when the owner asks. He should, he knows, take it. Money is constantly weighing his mind, more so the lack of it, but it's the last thing he wants to do. He'll try again tomorrow when he inevitably wakes up all over again to repeat that same cycle of school, work, and not enough sleep he's been stuck in for years.

His footsteps are noiseless as he slips back into his room. He leaves a plate of covered fruit outside Ardyn's door on his way, before his door clicks shut and he releases the breath he was holding.

Prince can't hear the creak of his desk chair when he collapses in it with a hushed sigh. It swivels this way and that before steadying from his feet. Prince lets a little of the noise back in. The headphones quiet everything in a false sense of serene silence, but his mind—he lets himself think for the first time this afternoon.

There's a text waiting in his messages. Three texts.

pup 10:16 AM

I saw a black cat on campus earlier. It reminded me of you

Do you like cats?

pup 1:24 PM

You're ignoring me

Prince contemplates a response, his fingers mindlessly tapping at his chipped, wooden desk. He could ignore it entirely like he's tried doing since Clementine first texted him. They exchanged numbers late into the night at Kahili's party when Prince was catching his breath and Clementine was shrugging his shirt on.

Your number, said Clementine, holding out his phone. Prince regarded it with a glance before he inevitably took it.

Clementine texted him that same night. Something far too sweet for how they spent their night exploring each other's body. I had a really nice time meeting you tonight, the first line made Prince frown when he read it, alone and on the cusp of sleep in his own bed. The rest was even sweeter.

Prince hearted his message and then went to sleep.

He regretted it in the morning when he read over Clementine's lengthy message again, the words just as sweet as they were the night before. It was mean, he realized, not responding. Prince sent back a guilty, How'd you sleep, pup?

He regrets that, too.

They texted the entirety of the day, and then the next, until too many texts were exchanged for Prince to end their conversation with no effort to continue it. He thinks about it. He really does—with every buzz his phone gives, he knows it's likely Clementine, and the urge to ignore his text long enough where it's inappropriate to reply tempts him.

Prince swivels in his chair. The creaking is silent. He replies.

Prince 3:20 PM

i'm not

i'm more of a dog person though

And then he waits.

He waits.. and he texts again.

Prince 3:26 PM

do you like dogs?

His phone immediately buzzes.

pup 3:26 PM

You were ignoring me

Prince's feet dig into the floor, halting the swiveling. He bites at his lip as he, again, contemplates a response. The blinking, empty chat bubble mocks him. Why is this so hard?

His heart beats unsteadily when Clementine texts again.

pup 3:27 PM

I like cats more

Prince calls him.

Clementine immediately picks up. "Hello?"

"I wasn't ignoring you," Prince says. "I was busy, so I didn't reply. And now I'm not, so..." His words awkwardly die off. Prince leans back in his chair and runs a hand down his face, feeling utterly stupid and wondering why he even called.

Ask, he almost says. Ask what I was doing.

Clementine has made it abundantly clear he's interested in pursuing Prince, ignoring Prince's weak warning of their night together being purely s****l. He texts often and eagerly, telling Prince all about his day and whatever comes to mind. It's too much for three days of knowing each other—that night was too much.

If he asks, Prince thinks, this is done. He waits almost impatiently for Clementine's response. Prince likes the eagerness, if he's honest. He likes Clementine's blatant attraction to him, and he finds that Clementine is scarily easy to talk to.

In another universe, where Prince isn't as consumed in his feelings for Ardyn as he is, he can imagine putting in equal effort for Clementine. He would wake Clementine up with good morning texts, he would be the one sending Clementine voice messages, and he would ask him out on a date.

This is the wrong universe for that.

Prince can stomach every one of Clementine's mannerisms—the eagerness, the attraction, he'll even flirt back now and then, but he won't let that eagerness twist into obsession. Clementine's not allowed to question Prince about what he was doing, not after three days of knowing each other.

Prince's finger taps on the armrest.

Clementine's voice floods his ears, "So, you're free now, then?"

"I am," Prince says slowly.

A beat of silence. Contemplation. "Can we hang out?"

It's hard to say no when everything else is hushed. His chair doesn't squeak, he sees his finger tap against the chair but he can't hear it. Clementine's voice cuts through the stillness in Prince's room and disrupts the silence of his mind. The silence was starting to get to him—he feels light when he says, "Let's hang out."

_____

Prince holds his breath when he enters Ardyn's room.

Ardyn is dressed loosely in an oversized t-shirt and comfy shorts, and if Prince was none the wiser, he'd blame the slow drag of Ardyn's eyes on sleep. He hums something soft and low at Prince, his chest rising and falling with greater effort than he's used to.

Prince looks into his dilated eyes. "I'm gonna go out for a while. If you need something you can text me, okay? I'll come back."

Ardyn's nod isn't immediate, but it eventually comes. The effort to look at Prince is too much, his eyes fall closed and he turns back to his pillow, holding it closely. Prince shouldn't see him as vulnerable as he is, smelling as good as he does, and on the cusp of falling apart. Prince averts his eyes.

They stop on Ardyn's matching filmstrip hung up on his wall by a pushpin.

Something tightens in his chest.

"Ardyn—"

He's not listening, or rather, he doesn't hear Prince at all. His ears are pressed low into his hair, his tail curled against his thigh, and he holds his pillow in small fists. Prince wavers unsurely. His hand lingers on the doorknob, as if nervous to step any further into the room, but he can't quite shut the door. Everything smells so heavily of Ardyn. Prince is suffocating.

Against every territorial bone in his body, Prince pads into the room and grabs Ardyn's phone from next to him on the bed. He's extremely careful not to brush Ardyn when he types in his passcode and searches through his texts. Prince picks the first one he sees.

Ardyn 4:11 PM

he's in heat

Prince's thumbs hover over the screen. Is this enough?

Ardyn 4:11

this is prince

Valen 4:12 PM

I'm sorry to hear that. Is he okay?

Prince stares at the screen blankly.

Ardyn 4:12 PM

he's okay

can you stay with him?

He sees Valen's text bubble disappear and reappear multiple times until it dies off for good. Prince holds back a scowl. What human doesn't jump at the opportunity to help a hybrid during their heat?

Valen 4:15 PM

We can, but is he okay with that?

"Oh my God," Prince mumbles, typing back a thoughtless reply before putting Ardyn's phone back. It's undeserved and unreasonable, but annoyance pricks at him. It's Ardyn's heady scent affecting him, he knows. His nerves are on edge as Ardyn grows more and more needy for affection.

And maybe it annoys him that Valen isn't one of those assholes who jumps at the opportunity to get his d**k wet that Ardyn seems to have a type for. Ardyn always grew sick of those types.

Prince doesn't linger.

Ardyn's door clicks shut but he still can't breathe.

_____

Prince is perplexed by Valen's attire. He wears Chanel from head to toe as he stands in the doorway. His earrings drip with the brand, his hair is styled to perfection, and his skin is flawless in the way only makeup can achieve. "I was at work," Valen explains when Prince stares too much. "My husband will come in a bit."

"Your husband," Prince repeats.

"Yes?" Valen's head tilts, hearing the edge in Prince's voice. He repeats himself slowly, an equal edge etched in his voice, "My husband."

Prince opens the front door wider. "I didn't mean you had to come straight from work. He's not... at that point yet."

Valen hums softly, his footsteps light and graceful as his boots click into the room. Prince stares at the heel to them, how they elevate him mere inches taller than Prince. He feels that annoyance again and knows he needs to leave.

"How is he right now?" Valen asks.

Prince watches him take in their apartment, eyes filtering to every corner as if Ardyn's hiding. Prince smooths his face into something calmer when Valen focuses back on him, his gentle presence such a contrast against Ardyn's raging storm of hormones down the hall. Prince is suffocating.

"How lucky," Prince utters, "that you can't smell him."

How unfortunate, he almost corrects. He feels bad for Valen.

"Help yourself to anything," Prince says, genuine as he slips his shoes on. "We need to go grocery shopping but you can have anything in the fridge. There's water for Ardyn, he likes the flavored ones." He straightens, then adds, "Kiwi."

Valen nods. "Thank you. For texting too, I appreciate it."

Prince feels something ugly rise in his chest. "Heats are hard." He nods instead of snapping it's not for Valen to appreciate. It was for Ardyn. "I'm gonna be out all night, but you can text me for whatever. This is my number."

It doesn't dawn on him until he's knocking on Clementine's door that he f****d Valen's little brother and Valen was probably none the wiser. Valen would never be able to smell Clementine all over him, not in the way Prince smelled him on Ardyn.

Clementine opens his apartment door and immediately sucks in a breath. His eyes dilate for a split second, and then he's grinning. "Wow," he laughs. "You smell.. interesting."

Prince smiles. "Shut up."

Clementine giggles, the door shuts, and Prince breathes a little easier.