Call Me Yours [BL]

Chapter 10 Part 1

The aftercare is similar in ways Ardyn expects.

Kahili gives him water again. Valen helps him dress. There are words exchanged, soft and praising words that Ardyn's not fully ready to hear. His body warms with each whispered one before his mind can make sense of it. Later, he'll remember it when he's on his own and his body will react the same all over again, but not right now.

He's too—pliable.

The aftercare is similar in ways he expects.

And then it's different in ways he doesn't expect.

The eye contact when Kahili holds his chin and helps him drink water. Ardyn's arms lax in his lap, unmoving as he sips at the water Kahili encourages him to drink. It slides down his throat too cold and too crisp for how warm his body feels. Kahili's fingers feel just as hot on his skin. The water that dribbles down his chin does little to help quench the heat.

Kahili swipes at the droplet with a slow drag of his thumb. "Messy boy."

Ardyn licks his lips.

The kisses—he doesn't expect those.

They come in unexpected places as Valen helps him dress. A kiss to his shoulder before Valen slips his shirt on, a kiss to his temple, a silent laugh pressed into his hair when Ardyn makes a noise of complaint to kiss him properly, and then a kiss to his lips.

Soft and slow and indulgent.

He expects the cuddles.

Kahili tucks Ardyn into him again when Valen slips off the bed to wash his face. He seems perturbed at the thought of lying in bed without washing up and makes a point to explain which pillow is his. It's indirect and Ardyn had no plans of lying on it, but he nods to soothe Valen's obvious discomfort of someone else on his pillow.

"We can share mine," Kahili says. He grabs hold of Ardyn without much thought, tucking him into his body again. That heat is there, hotter and more direct than earlier. Ardyn nuzzles into it. Doesn't fight when Kahili rolls them onto their sides and throws his arm over Ardyn's waist so they're spooning. "He never lets me on his pillows either."

"Never?"

"Once," he corrects, his voice tickles Ardyn's ears. "I woke up in the middle of the night to him taking the sheets and pillowcases off the bed."

Ardyn smiles because it's easier than he thinks to imagine Valen getting fussy at Kahili. Frowning in silence as he stands over Kahili and contemplates the bed.

"He's very particular about certain things," Kahili explains. "God forbid I leave the toilet seat up. Or leave a drawer open, that one bothers him a lot."

Valen wasn't as kind as to dress Kahili too. There was a lazy effort on Kahili's end. Boxers he halfheartedly pulled on. His shirt is out in the living room and his jeans barely made it into the hall. He's all but naked and Ardyn is burning. "Prince gets like that," Ardyn utters. "My co-worker. Well, my roommate. We're friends—he's my closest friend."

"I'm sure you'll adjust to Val's habits pretty easily then."

It implies something long-term to Ardyn.

He gives a ginger nod and bites his tongue from saying something stupid. From admitting he wants something long-term. I want to see his habits, threatens his lips. Because that implies something too.

"I'm a little... messy," Ardyn admits.

"You're cute," he says. Ardyn almost jolts. "He'll let you off the hook."

"Cute."

Kahili chuckles at his perplexed tone. "Is something wrong with being cute? Do you not like it?"

"No." Arydn blushes. "It's not that. I like it."

"Pretty, then," Kahili says. "I think that's why Val likes you so much. He's always been drawn to.. finer things."

Ardyn flushes deeper and tries not to think about all the times they've seen him before. Countless encounters where they've witnessed him wearing clothes he's had from high school. His best attire at the restaurant, so severely underdressed, and yet it was the fanciest thing he could pull together.

Finer things. He can't bring himself to ask if Kahili is poking fun at his situation. He's not, Ardyn knows deep down, but the off chance that he is scares Ardyn into a different direction.

He turns to face Kahili. "..And you? Why do you think you... like me?"

Kahili's already watching him. Ardyn isn't prepared for those dark eyes locked onto his own, their allure bordering on dangerously captivating. Ardyn's breath stutters. He stares back. "Just one reason?" Kahili asks, velvety tone dipping low.

"Is there more than one?"

"There's a few," he says. "And then a few more."

"Any reason, then," Ardyn rephrases, hoping it doesn't come off as eager as he feels. There's a constant weight on his waist, Kahili's hand drawing warm, mindless circles on his back.

"You always look at Val with this look in your eyes. Like you'd worship the ground he walks on."

It's the last thing Ardyn expects.

"I—" His first reaction is to get defensive.

He feels it bubble in his chest, ugly with defiance.

Kahili immediately sees the shift in his demeanor. The way Ardyn subtly pulls back, as if Kahili hurt him. "Hey," Kahili sits up when Ardyn makes a conscious choice to move even further away, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I don't— I'm not—" Ardyn has no clue what he's saying, but he feels his face burning. He feels exposed in all the wrong ways. Kahili's tone, he goes over it again and again in his head until his voice contorts into something unfamiliar. Like you'd worship the ground he walks on.

"Ardyn." Kahili grabs his face between his hands, forcefully pulling him from his thoughts. "Deep breaths for me. Good—Are you okay?"

Ardyn swallows and finds that he's not. He's not okay. "I didn't mean..."

"Didn't mean?" Kahili prompts, but Ardyn's sinking back into his thoughts. Sinking back into himself as if disappearing will make this whole conversation go away. "Ardyn. I'm not—I'm not mad at you. Is that what you think?"

His head jerks in a nod. Subtle and scared.

Kahili's tone. It sounded like an accusation. That contorted voice that sounded unfamiliar and ugly in his head, like you'd worship the ground he walks on, it sounds accusatory.

Kahili's eyebrows knit. "Why do you think I'm mad? I'm not, Ardyn. I'm confused, but I'm not mad at you. You haven't done anything."

"You said," Ardyn somehow finds his voice, "You said I look at him a certain way. That—that I look like I'd worship the ground he walks on. But I'm not—he's your husband. I wouldn't—"

"Is that why you think I'm mad?" Kahili asks. "Because I don't want you looking at him that way?"

Ardyn feels small when he nods. So incredibly small.

The feeling worsens when Kahili frowns.

"That's the last thing I was thinking. Valen is my husband but I'm sure you can tell we're not exactly conventional. Having people look at him like I do, see him like I do," Kahili expresses, "that's beautiful to me. That you can see him like I do."

Ardyn's hands fist the sheets, not unkindly. Scared.

"I like how comfortable you've gotten with us, with me," Kahili says. Ardyn looks up. "I like those pictures you send us. The one last week, it was a worm, wasn't it? Val thought it was gross. I liked it."

An uncomfortable silence passes. "It was a centipede."

"A centipede," Kahili repeats. "I didn't know I liked centipedes. I probably don't, but I liked that you thought of us enough to send it."

Ardyn sent it to Prince too.

Because Prince is his favorite person.

He doesn't know what it implies.

"I'm sorry." Ardyn's voice shakes and he hates it. Hates himself for ruining a perfectly good day over a misunderstanding. It feels unfixable, this feeling that settles over them. It's uncomfortable and chokes Ardyn with insecurities. "I didn't want to.. overstep."

"I think you sleeping with my husband is better grounds for my anger." Kahili attempts a joke. Ardyn finds it in himself to give a small smile back. "I didn't get to the other things, y'know."

Ardyn rubs his damp hands on his thighs. He can't look Kahili in the eye. "It's embarrassing now," he confesses, bashful in such expressive ways. He blushes at the stupidity of everything, how they've circled back to an innocent question that snowballed into this.

"Will you let me say them anyway?"

Ardyn's nod is tentative.

Kahili's words are something he's not ready to hear.

Ardyn's not as pliable, not in the way where Kahili's touch would cloud his mind with fuzz, but he's laid himself too bare. Too exposed to hear these honest and unexpected words, because Kahili is laying himself just as bare. "Are those enough reasons?" Kahili's voice is inviting. "I have more."

"No." Ardyn blushes. "That's plenty."

The gap Ardyn made slowly closes. It's not a conscious effort to move closer, but he does it, and that heat returns, so unmistakably Kahili.

Valen is damp and glowing when he comes back. Ardyn is hyperaware of his staring, so conscious of Kahili watching him, but he lets himself. You see him like I do. If Valen notices any shift in their demeanors he doesn't mention it. "I'm getting hungry," he says. There's an invitation there, extended to Ardyn so naturally. "Should we make something?"

"What would you like, my love?" Kahili coaxes him onto the bed and tucks his hair behind his ear. "I'll make you anything."

Valen smiles, endeared, and kisses him. It's soft in a way that's specifically reserved for Kahili.

There's a thoughtful hum when he pulls away, eyes settling on Ardyn. "What would our baby like?"

Baby, Ardyn melts into the sheets. "I don't—I'm good with anything," he assures, smiling shyly.

"Kahili's a bit of a health nut. He'll feed you protein pancakes."

"Pancakes for dinner?"

"Anything you'd like," Kahili says.

It's too much pressure on Ardyn, he flames under both of their patient eyes. "I want you to pick," he mumbles, all but folding in on himself. "Please."

"Alright, darling," Valen soothes. "We have chicken in the fridge we need to use up, don't we?"

Kahili nods. "A whole pack."

It's settled after that. Ardyn stays for dinner.

_____

"Here, darling. Let me," Valen laughs affectionately and takes the cheese grater away from Ardyn. "I don't want you slicing your pretty hands."

Ardyn thinks it's ironic. Valen's hands are manicured and adorned in expensive rings, his nail beds shiny and well taken care of, while Ardyn's hands haven't seen a nail clipper in months. They always tear before they can grow too long for him to notice.

"I can do it," Ardyn insists.

"I know you can, pretty. But I'd like to do it for you." Valen's voice drips with a sweet authority that Ardyn can't fight. He caves when Valen looks at him with an equally sweet smile, so visibly content and affectionate. "Don't ask Kahili if he needs help either. You're our guest."

"What should I do?"

"You don't need to do anything," Valen says. His hands move methodically against the cheese grater, so confident with each stroke. Ardyn felt nervous with the same movements, scared he'd cut himself, and hyperaware of Valen watching him. "Just keep me company, yeah?"

"I can," Ardyn agrees too quickly, too eager.

Valen smiles, fond. "Your family doesn't live here, right?"

Ardyn thinks of his sister 400 miles away. He has nieces, two of them. They're too small to talk on the phone so his only form of contact is sporadic pictures and updates on their latest adventures. Allison started walking. He wonders if they'll remember him next visit, but no—they were too little and he hardly goes home. "No, it's just me. I moved here for college."

Him and his sister have a good relationship, a great relationship, but when he thinks of his family she and their parents come to mind. Her kids and her husband come to her mind. It was a startling revelation he had years ago, the same night he realized none of them would ever live together again. It left a hollow feeling in his chest he didn't like thinking about. He misses her.

Kahili passes by to grab something from the fridge and pats Ardyn's butt. "You're the youngest, right? One older.. sister?"

"Mhm." Ardyn nods, surprised he remembered.

"The baby," Valen teases.

"He's not much better," Kahili tells Ardyn, chuckling. He pats Valen's butt too, before taking up his spot by the stove. Ardyn watches him cut open a pack of raw chicken. "Val's the second youngest, barely older than Clementine."

"I'm six years older than him," Valen responds dryly. "Clem was.. a surprise. My mom wanted a girl."

Kahili whistles lowly. "They're a handful."

Ardyn perks. "Do you have sisters?"

"Three." Kahili nods. "I'm the oldest."

Ardyn doesn't think of his sister and the eight-hour road trip that separates them. He doesn't think of her tears when he said he was moving for college, nor their weekly calls that turned monthly, or those calls that turned into texts that he responds to too late.

"How did that work when you got married?" Ardyn asks, then blushes at both of their quizzical looks. "For your groomsmen.. did you have all your brothers?"

"I had Clementine and Taylor." Valen gets a distant look in his eyes, smiling fondly from the memory. "There's—There's too many of us, all of our weddings have been taking turns standing up there. I think Clem might be the only one to force all of us into being groomsmen. He's spoiled."

"He's your favorite," Kahili says.

"He is," Valen agrees softly.

The chicken sizzles and the salad is tossed and Ardyn is infatuated.

He watches Valen carefully fork through the elaborate salad, assembling a tiny balance of everything on the four little spikes, and then he holds it up for Kahili to try. "Balsamic?" Kahili guesses. He chews with an approving nod. "Tastes good, babe."

Valen smiles.

Then he holds his fork out for Ardyn. It startles him.

"Try it," Valen coaxes, taking his surprise as hesitancy.

Ardyn's jaw all but drops to the floor. Valen giggles and places it in his mouth. "Good?"

"Great," he mumbles, chewing. It's bad manners but he's too eager to please Valen, to see him smile at him like he did Kahili. And he does, a self-satisfied smile that's meant for himself. Good, he repeats.

Ardyn hates balsamic but he likes seeing Valen smile.

He clears the whole plate.

After dinner, Ardyn insists he can wash the plates. "You cooked for me," he pleads, holding his plate captive. Kahili holds both his and Valen's, and there's a small pile of dirty dishes in the sink. "I can do this much."

He doesn't want to beg, and after a considering look, Kahili doesn't make him. "We can both do it."

"You can use the dishwasher," Valen suggests.

Ardyn's never—"Hand washing is fine," Kahili says for them.

Valen considers the dirty dishes with an unreadable expression. "..I'll dry them."

Kahili smiles with surprise. A long look passes between them, something Ardyn doesn't understand, something Valen flushes at. It's surprising to see, the hue of pink that settles on his cheeks and his forced indifference. "I know how to dry dishes, Kahili."

"Of course," he laments, not unkindly.

The water runs so hot it burns Ardyn's hands. Kahili scrubs the dirty dishes, and passes them to Ardyn who rinses the soap off, then to Valen who dries. A comfortable silence falls over them for the seemingly first time tonight. The constant stream of water and clinking glass the only noticeable sounds.

Ardyn isn't sure he's allowed to feel this content. He's scared for it to end when they inevitably show him to the door. It'll be cordial, said with the right amount of words praising the night, and praising him, then a promise to text after he gets home.

There will be no invitation to stay the night. Ardyn has nothing besides his phone. He could borrow clothes. He has school in the morning. He could wake up early. Prince will be worried. He could send a text. Kahili and Valen don't want him to stay the night.

He felt it the last time he stayed over. It was crossing a boundary.

"How about a movie?" Kahili suggests, drying his hands on a towel.

Ardyn's head whips to his.

"Yes?" Kahili asks, raising his eyebrows. "We have most streaming services."

"Yes," Ardyn immediately agrees. His mouth feels dry with the realization they weren't kicking him out.

"Wine, darling?" Valen's already pulling three glasses out.

"Oh-! Yes, please."

This isn't how he spends his nights. There's—It's too early for dinner. His stomach doesn't grumble when it's well past midnight and he realizes he hasn't eaten. He and Prince aren't talking in the kitchen while they wait for whatever frozen dinner they pulled out of their freezer to reheat in the air fryer.

There's not the constant sound of Prince's gaming console clicking from the living room, mumbled curses, and occasional yells for Ardyn to stop f*****g around and play the game correctly. Ardyn doesn't like games, not like Prince does, but Ardyn likes Prince so he spends most of his nights indulging his friend after work. Prince doesn't care for movies, not like Ardyn does, but they always end up watching one after they've made no progress in the game.

Ardyn isn't—this isn't his routine.

But it seems to be theirs.

The wine sits bitterly on his tongue. He likes it.

They purposefully sit him in the middle, but Ardyn can picture if he wasn't there. The arm that was wrapped around his shoulders would be meant for Valen. There would be gentle, loving touches exchanged, maybe under a blanket. A kiss when the movie dragged too long, hands wandering too far to be innocent. The movie forgotten and breathy gasps inaudible over the ending credits.

"What're you thinking about?" Kahili mumbles lowly, and Ardyn feels it against his neck. His shoulders rise when it tickles. Ardyn shakes his head, eyes glued to the widescreen, but he knows Kahili's smiling, staring at the side of his face. "I like this, too." A touch to Ardyn's cheek. He's blushing. "I don't think I told you earlier."

Ardyn swallows, hard.

"You didn't," he confirms quietly.

"I like it."

Ardyn almost regrets not paying attention to the movie, he's heard good things about it.

"I like your voice," Ardyn utters.

Kahili's gaze returns to him—or it never left.

"And how you dress. It suits you."

Valen reaches for his wine glass.

Ardyn smoothes his hands on his legs. There's a jitter in them, something he suppresses, but his fingers tap insistently on his thigh and he can't see the movie he's staring directly at. His thoughts consume his vision. He turns to Valen abruptly, enough to startle him. "—I like how softly you talk. It's really soothing."

Valen blinks, surprised and unaware of their conversation, but he grips his glass a little tighter and smiles so prettily for Ardyn. "Thank you, baby."

Ardyn flushes, then jerks his head in a nod.

"What else do you like about him?" Kahili asks. He angles his body toward Valen, and in turn, Ardyn does too.

"I like when you call me baby."

Valen laughs into his glass, takes a sip, and places it down. He gives them his full attention. The movie is forgotten.

"What else?" Valen drawls playfully.

"You look like you know how pretty you are."

Valen's smile turns dimmer, fonder. He looks past Ardyn. "Kahili says the same thing."

"It's your confidence," Kahili explains.

"Your confidence," Ardyn repeats, nodding.

Valen stares at them, a tilt to his head. Affection seeps into his voice when he coaxes, "What else?"

They take turns, Kahili and Ardyn, and they both somehow never run out of things to say. It's surface level for Ardyn, I like your scent, and when Valen grows intrigued and asks what he smells like to hybrids, Ardyn expresses a confident vanilla. He doesn't say it's one of his favorite scents.

Kahili's compliments come with years of familiarity. I love that you let me dress you every day.

Ardyn's heart thumps. "You pick out his outfits every day?"

"Most days," Kahili says.

Ardyn's body warms with the vision. To start your day with your lover carefully putting so much thought into you. The intimacy of dressing them, the satisfaction of Kahili expressing his passion through his love for Valen.

"I don't really care what I look like," Valen confesses. "Kahili is better at those things. And it's fun."

Kahili says, "I know what he likes." And it holds so much weight beyond clothes.

Valen's hand slides on Ardyn's thigh and he smirks. His eyes dance with a fondness Ardyn isn't used to. "Is it my turn now?"

_____

Ardyn gets home late.

Prince is awake when he walks through the door.

"Welcome back," Prince mumbles, absorbed in his game. "How'd it go?"

"Good." Ardyn toes his shoes off and nudges them to the side. His feet pad to the kitchen to down a glass of water, the wine still sitting on his tongue. He licks a dribble of water off his lips and thinks about how the wine tasted in Kahili's mouth when they kissed. He doesn't hear Prince's response.

"I made you dinner, it's in the fridge."

Ardyn twists around when Prince's game pauses. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Do you want dinner?" he rephrases.

"It's okay. I ate at their place."

Prince looks at the microwave clock.

"Okay," he says. "Wanna talk about it?"

Ardyn brings his glass with him when he dumps himself on the couch next to Prince. "Nothing to tell," he assures, then extends his hand for a controller. Prince can smell them on him. "I actually watched that movie you were telling me about. It was pretty good."

Prince unpauses.