This Is Boring, I Am Going To Sleep
T'Challa and Everett were in the last tribe meeting of the day, and Everett was starting to feel it.
He tried keeping his eyes open; he really did.
But trying to keep up with a language you don't understand is exhausting.
Everett recently started learning Wakandan with T'Challa and knew only the basics.
"Oku kufuneka kume." One of the tribe elders declared. (This has to stop.)
Everett's eyes closed.
I can sleep, just for a little bit. No one is paying attention to me.
Someone shook him. "Darling, wake up."
Everett's eyes flew open. Looking to his side, he saw T'Challa smiling softly at him.
Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "Sorry. Just a little tired. I'll be fine."
"Alright." T'Challa grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "We're almost done, don't worry."
"My King?" The River Tribe elder asked.
T'Challa looked back at the council. "Ewe. Uxolo. Besithetha ngantoni?" (Yes. Sorry. What were we talking about?)
"Ugqogqo." He answered. (The raids.)
The Wakandan council continued their discussion while Everett slipped back into sleep, slumping against his chair.
"Kungangokuba ndimyeke alale," Ramonda said. (Might as well just let him sleep.) "Unosuku olude." (He's had a long day.)
It's true. One of the raid members tried to kidnap him, and a goat knocked him into a mud pile.
And he's still stressed out about the people not liking him because he's an outsider.
T'Challa moved his husband's head to his shoulder and laced their fingers together.
Smiling, he listened to his people as they bickered about the country.
"Everett. Everett." A hand was caressing his face as he woke up a little.
Everett groaned and turned away. "Leave me alone."
T'Challa chuckled lightly and whispered, "I will pick you up now. Just stay sleeping."
Everett made a noise of acknowledgment.
Kneeling in front of him, T'Challa slipped his arms under his Queen's knees and neck.
"Put your arms around me, dear."
"Yes, sir." Everett slurred sarcastically. But he slid his arms around T'Challa's neck and clasped his hands together.
"We got married a long time ago. Why are you carrying me like this now?"
"You want me to put you in what the Americans call... Oh, what was it? Ah! A fireman's carry. Would like that better?"
T'Challa's grinned down at him as he hoisted Everett up.
Everett just scowled. "Everyone thinks they're funny around here, huh?"
"You're just crabby."
"Of course I'm crabby. This day has sucked."
"I'm sure you've had worse. Working with the CIA."
"Whatever. I'm going back to sleep."
T'Challa moved his hand to cradle Everett's head as he closed his eyes. Walking back to their chambers, T'Challa thought about how lucky he got.
Everett groaned once more as he was laid down on the plush bed.
"Are you gonna leave me alone now?"
"Of course, beloved. But first, you got to change. I can do it for you."
Everett thought about it for a moment before nodding and saying, "Yeah, okay."
T'Challa kneeled on the bed. "Sit up. Come on."
Everett put out his arms. T'Challa grasped them and pulled him into a sitting position. Getting off the bed, he pulled Everett onto his feet.
Everett shifted himself around, presenting his back to T'Challa.
The King ran his hands up Everett's arms before coming to the zipper on his gown.
He pulled it down slowly and let the piece of clothing drop to the floor.
T'Challa turned Everett back around and sat him on the bed.
Crouching down in front of his lover for the third time today, he pulled the gown off entirely and took off his shoes and socks.
He left Everett on the bed in only his undershirt and skin-tight boxers.
Stripping himself of his own clothes, he also took off his shirt.
T'Challa looked back at Everett to find him starting languidly at his person.
Smiling softly, he said, "I would love to, darling, but you look exhausted. I don't think it would be very... Pleasurable."
Everett snorted. "Anything with you is 'pleasurable.'"
"Although I am flattered, let's get some rest, yeah? Maybe later."
"Okay."
T'Challa laid down on the bed and pulled Everett up to and against him.
He pulled the covers over them. Trailing his left hand down, he rested it on Everett's hip. His right arm pulled at the more petite man's stomach, pressing him comfortably against T'Challa's body.
Everett turned in his grasp and caught T'Challa's lips in his own.
After their mini-makeout session, Everett turned back around and murmured, "Night."
"Goodnight, darling."
T'Challa pressed open-mouth kisses on Everett's neck and shoulders while the American drifted off in his lover's arms.
"I love you," T'Challa whispered into the dark.
He slipped into his own state of unconsciousness.