Call Me Yours [BL]

Chapter 15

the genre is power bottoms

Clementine is the youngest of seven brothers, each as talented and remarkable as the last. There's Taylor, and there's August, and of course Valentine. Carillo and Xavier come to mind, and finally their oldest brother, Benjamin.

Tine is a hard last name to live up to, he finds out.

Clementine isn't gifted in art like August, and he's not much of a chef like Taylor. Benjamin is a doctor, but Clementine's never been all that good with blood. Valentine makes modeling look easy, so he gives it a shot, but Clementine has a hard time staying still. Behind the camera seems better, but he doesn't understand lighting like Carillo. Xavier is a lawyer, and Clementine is smart, but he's too easily biased—too easily swayed and pliable as he chases after his older brother's passions. He'd never be able to confidently build a case on his own.

Clementine doesn't know what he's passionate about. Everything already seems taken.

When he hears Prince's low laugh, Clementine realizes his previous thought is flawed. Pretty men, he thinks. He's pretty passionate about that.

Prince looks model-like as he leans against the outdoor barstools and sports a beer bottle with an air of effortless confidence. Clementine is taken in by the dark of his eyes, so bright and mesmerizing under the moonlight. They look even more intimidating up close, angled up and hyper-focused on Clementine. He reminds him of Valentine's cat.

"Okay," Prince drawls, his voice pitched teasingly low. "You've got me all to yourself."

"Finally," Clementine says, clear exasperation written in his voice. He's wasted too much of the night trying to find somewhere they can be alone. Clementine saw it earlier, the gentle beginnings of interest flicker in Prince's eyes, and Clementine was adamant to make it stay. To nurture it into something more, but everywhere they went someone always showed up.

It's hard to flirt with your brother three feet away.

"Finally," Prince echos, his lips twitching up. "What now?"

Clementine considers the older man as he contemplates a response. Prince is intimidatingly good-looking and far too composed as he tilts his head and rakes an interested look over Clementine. It's every bit slow as it is intentional, and it works to rattle Clementine's nerves.

Clementine goes with the truth, "I didn't think I'd make it this far," he confesses sheepishly.

Prince laughs and it sounds so pleasant to him. "No? But you were trying so hard." His smirk is mean. Clementine can't take his eyes off the fullness of his lips, so plush and inviting. It stretches wider the longer he stares.

"You weren't exactly jumping to talk to me," Clementine says, petulant.

"That's true," Prince agrees softly. "You seemed excited enough for the both of us. I didn't think I had to do any work."