Spoils

T'Challa awoke with a feeling of absolute bliss and contentment. He hadn't slept so well in a very long time.

He yawned, snuggling more deeply under his warm, fluffy blanket and shifting onto his side -

- and came face to face with Erik.

Oh.

T'Challa inhaled sharply, eyes going wide with shock.

Erik's eyes were closed in peaceful slumber. In sleep, his face looked surprisingly youthful and innocent under the soft golden light of the morning sun. His handsome features weren’t twisted into his perpetual angry scowl, and were instead relaxed and unguarded.

T’Challa stiffened, temporarily disoriented. He was suddenly acutely aware of Erik’s legs entwined around his own, Erik’s arm wrapped casually around his waist. Erik was so close that T’Challa could feel the warm breath from each of his exhales tickling his cheek.

The events of yesterday came crashing back into his mind.

Losing the Challenge.

Turning into an omega.

Bonding with Erik -

T'Challa flinched, his heart rate spiking in panic. Erik's eyelids fluttered briefly at T'Challa's jerk and T’Challa froze, hardly daring to breathe. He desperately prayed that Erik wouldn’t wake up - he was way too disconcerted to know what to say to him right now.

Thankfully, Erik merely snuffled a little in his sleep. He drew T'Challa closer in towards himself, his arm tightening around T'Challa's waist before he settled down again, his breathing evening out.

T'Challa winced, even as his new omega instincts purred in satisfaction at being held protectively within his mate's embrace. He didn't dare to imagine how badly Erik would react when he woke up to find himself cuddling with his enemy.

T'Challa held his breath and gingerly tried to disentangle himself from Erik's arms without waking him up. This was more difficult than he had anticipated - not only was Erik quite clingy, T'Challa also had to fight against his instincts at every step to talk himself out of curling back into the alpha's embrace and going back to sleep. He shoved the soft insistent tug towards Erik right to the very back of his mind, and somehow managed to squirm free from beneath Erik with an undignified little wriggle.

T'Challa stepped into his fluffy bedroom slippers and then straightened up. To his surprise, he noted that the cramps from yesterday had almost completely disappeared. As much as he didn't like to admit it to himself, Erik's proximity had accelerated the transformation and reduced his pain.

T'Challa gingerly made his way to the bathroom as quietly as he could, feeling relieved as Erik didn't even stir. He shut the bathroom door behind himself with a soft snick.

Almost on automatic, T'Challa began to strip out of his robe. He removed his slippers, stepped into the shower and turned the tap on. Hot water began to stream from the rain shower overhead at just the perfect temperature that he liked.

T'Challa's mind drifted as the water trickled down his naked body. His conversation with Erik last night had been extremely enlightening.

He had been half-insensate with pain yesterday after his mother had left, despairing over the thought of spending an entire night alone and suffering. Then, as if from a dream, Erik had appeared. T'Challa's heart had leapt upon seeing his mate, but then immediately sank in wary apprehension - what if Erik had decided to drop by just to torment him?

But Erik had been unexpectedly nice to him. Comforting and even… sweet. At first, T'Challa didn't understand why Erik had been treating him so well. Of course, the mating bond prevented Erik from doing any serious damage to him, but there were still many ways for Erik to torture him if he really wanted to be creative about it. But finding out that Erik's father had been an omega too explained a lot about Erik’s unexpected kindness.

Male omegas were relatively rare, and outside of Wakanda, were usually held in even lower regard than female omegas. T'Challa had not known much about his uncle Prince N'Jobu at all, but learning that he had been an omega made the pieces fall into place. Erik must have seen the hardship that his father had faced back in America. It was a stroke of good fortune for T'Challa that Erik had a huge soft spot for omega men.

Was it the hand of Bast at work, giving T'Challa some small measure of protection, even as she stripped away everything that he had known?

T'Challa sighed. His fear and resentment towards his current circumstances lessened somewhat. He didn't really think that Erik would be violent towards him now. Mean, definitely. But not abusive or cruel.

Probably not.

“Yo. You done yet?” Erik called out from the bedroom.

T'Challa stiffened. He hadn't expected Erik to wake up so early. It was barely even seven in the morning.

“Your sister came,” Erik continued. “The princess is pissed. Get out here.”

“Yes, alpha.” The words, soft and submissive, slipped out of T'Challa's mouth before T'Challa could stop himself, an automatic response to the commanding tone in Erik's voice. T'Challa clapped a hand over his mouth, staring wide-eyed in dismay at his own reflection in the glass door of the shower.

There was a pause, and then Erik snorted. “Just come out.”

T'Challa hastily shut off the shower and then grabbed a towel hanging from the rack. He quickly towelled himself dry, then froze, looking around. He had forgotten to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom. Usually, T’Challa would just walk out naked to change in his bedroom, but now that Erik was sharing the bedroom with him…

Erik banged on the door, making T'Challa startle in surprise. “Hurry up!” he snapped.

With no other choice, T'Challa wrapped the towel around loosely around his hips to protect his modesty and then stepped out of the bathroom.

“Took you long enough -”

Erik's voice died off as he caught sight of T'Challa half-naked and still damp all over from his shower. His eyes widened. T'Challa quickly ducked his head, his face heating up with embarrassment, but he didn’t miss the way Erik swallowed during the moment when their eyes briefly met.

“Sorry. I forgot to bring my clothes in with me,” T’Challa muttered, by way of explanation. He opened the door of the closet, then pulled out a simple robe, white silk-cotton weave patterned with embroidery of golden vibranium threads. It was his usual simple daily wear, but Erik raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you dressing up for?”

T'Challa avoided his gaze. “This? It's what I normally wear.”

Erik sighed. “Whatever. Just get dressed.”

T'Challa hesitated, unsure whether he should ask Erik to turn around. In the end, he decided against it. It wasn't like Erik hadn't seen it all already, anyway. And as much as T'Challa disliked it, he knew that any hangups he had about his modesty would have to be put aside. He might as well start getting used to this.

Biting his lip, T'Challa let the towel fall from his hips.

Erik didn't react visibly when T'Challa disrobed, but T'Challa got the strong impression that he was feeling just as awkward as T’Challa was. T'Challa quickly pulled the new robe over his shoulders, his heart beating fast.

Erik did not offer to help him with the buttons.

“Your sister’s in the next room. She’s your problem. I don't wanna deal with her,” Erik said.

“All right.” Shuri must have spoken to his mother after Ramonda she had left yesterday. T'Challa felt a pang of guilt at having gone out of his way to avoid her. She must have been worried sick about him. He was somewhat apprehensive about speaking with her, but surely it would be preferable to suffering through another conversation with Erik. Last night, Erik had offered to speak to him in the morning, but in the light of day, T'Challa found that he was suddenly at a loss for words. He was grateful for the brief distraction provided by Shuri showing up, even though the longer this dragged out, the more awkward things would become with Erik.

T'Challa was very aware that he was running away from his problems. That didn’t reduce his desire to avoid Erik one bit.

“Y'all can talk here. I’m going out. You stay here in bed,” Erik continued.

“What? I'm feeling much better now. I think the transformation is already over,” T'Challa protested. He didn't want to be cooped up in his room all day.

“So soon? I thought the doctor said that it would take a couple of days.”

T'Challa shrugged. He didn't want to share his theory that it had been Erik's presence that had made him get better so quickly.

Erik eyed T'Challa assessingly. “You look like you still need more rest.”

“I slept all night! I'm fine now,” T'Challa said. Truth be told, he had slept much better yesterday than he had in ages.

“You -”

Their argument was interrupted by a soft chime from Erik's kimoyo beads. Shuri's voice, panicky and outraged, projected from the room’s speaker, which was synced into the kimoyo bead system.

“Where's my brother? I know he's in there with you! If I find out that anything’s happened to him, I swear to Bast -”

Erik thumbed his bracelet, his mouth twisting downward in irritation. Shuri's voice was abruptly cut off.

“You two are fucking irritating, you know that?"

T'Challa flinched at the harshness in his alpha's voice. Hurt bubbled up from deep within him. Completely irrational - T'Challa knew full well that Erik couldn't stand him. And yet, he still wasn't able to suppress it.

“I -” Erik sighed. His voice softened at the look on T'Challa's face. “All right, just - just go and talk to your sister. You can leave if the doctor clears you first, but stay within the palace grounds.”

T'Challa's heart leapt. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Erik couldn't leave the room fast enough.