Spoils

When T'Challa finally woke up from his snooze, it was close to ten. Usually he didn't sleep in so late, but last night's activities had been more exhausting than he was used to. 

Erik's side of the bed was empty. The faint, lingering scent of his mate told T'Challa that he had probably left not too long ago. T'Challa knew from personal experience just how many duties the King had to do, but he was still somewhat crestfallen to find himself alone - and then, mortified to realise just how dependent he now was on Erik's company. Things just didn't feel right when his mate was away, like there was a hole in his life which needed to be filled. 

Omegas being needy was such a stereotype, and T'Challa was chagrined to discover that he was fitting it perfectly. Even being away from his alpha for a brief moment made him feel antsy and uncomfortable. In theory, these feelings were supposed to get less intense as their mating bond settled, but it had been over a week since their bonding and he still wanted Erik as badly as ever.

T’Challa gritted his teeth. Bast. It wasn’t dignifiedto be pining after Erik the moment he woke up. 

Would he seem too clingy if he went searching for Erik right now? 

After some internal struggle, T'Challa caved. It was only natural for a newly bonded omega to want to stay close to his mate. No one would think any less of him for it. And it would be good for them to be seen presenting a unified front together in court.

Erik was pleasantly surprised when T’Challa entered the throne room barely half an hour after the council meeting had begun. He hadn’t really wanted to leave T’Challa earlier, but he also had other duties to attend to. It had been a real struggle just now to force himself to leave T'Challa when he was all snuggled up close to Erik. Erik hadn't thought he would be seeing T'Challa until the afternoon, at least. 

To an outsider, T’Challa appeared to be quite put together. He was dressed in his usual neat robes, and not a single hair was out of place. But beneath the facade, Erik knew T’Challa well enough to tell that T’Challa had arrived in a rush. There were faint creases in his clothes, as if he had dressed in a hurry, and his eyes were still somewhat heavy-lidded with sleep.

Erik preened internally. The knowledge that his mate wanted him badly enough to seek him out even when he was obviously still tired was very flattering to his ego. It was cute. 

He called for a recess earlier than he had planned, after barely an hour had passed. There were many things on his agenda that had yet to be discussed - ramping up weapons production gradually enough that it wouldn't be too noticeable, expanding their War Dog presence in other countries, speaking with the individual representatives from each tribe to evaluate which tribe would be cooperative and which tribe was likely to oppose his master plan - but T'Challa's presence complicated matters. Erik couldn't very well have these discussions while T'Challa was right there in the same room, not after he had already agreed with T'Challa to work towards a non-violent solution. Right now, T'Challa was very helpful when it came to building rapport with the councillors, but his suspicions would definitely be roused the moment that Erik even hinted at stepping up weapons production.

It was a delicate task, trying to feel out how much support he was likely to get for his plan even though he was unable to explicitly discuss anything concrete to avoid making T'Challa suspicious. Erik knew that there would soon be a breaking point where he would no longer be able to keep T'Challa in the dark about the full extent of his goals. Probably very soon. But his mate was so supportive right now, all sweet and cooperative and eager to help. Erik didn't want to ruin it. He could put the inevitable argument off for just a few weeks more. 

Erik beckoned for T'Challa to approach him, not even bothering to wait until the room was fully cleared up. 

T'Challa was barely suppressing a smile as he walked up to Erik. Erik reached out a hand and took him by the wrist, then gave him a light tug so that T'Challa was stumbling forward right into his lap. 

"Erik!" T'Challa protested, but he was smiling as he made himself comfortable in Erik’s lap. 

The door swung shut behind the last straggler, W’Kabi, as he left the room, and the two of them were now properly alone.  

"Missed me that much, baby?" Erik teased. He nuzzled his nose into the top of T’Challa’s head, inhaling the soft scent of his omega. T’Challa had showered recently, and his hair still carried the faint fragrance of his jasmine-scented shampoo. 

T’Challa shook his head in denial, but Erik could sense his delight filtering through their mating bond as T'Challa allowed himself to be cuddled close. Delight, mixed with an undertone of desire. 

"You wanna fuck again? Damn, babe, you're really insatiable." Not that Erik was complaining. Was there anything better than having a horny mate who constantly wanted to fuck? He slid his hands beneath T'Challa to support his weight, seizing the opportunity to grope T'Challa's ass as he did so. 

T'Challa squirmed at the sensation, and in the process his ass ground down against the tops of T'Challa's thighs. The delicious friction made Erik's cock stiffen with interest. His mate was really irresistible, especially when he spent practically the entire duration of the meeting giving Erik bedroom eyes. 

Not wanting to wait a moment longer, Erik hooked his fingers in the waistband of T'Challa trousers, shifting T'Challa in his lap so that he could tug them all the way down. He was already slick enough that Erik knew he could sit T'Challa on his cock without too much prep. 

T'Challa wrapped his arms around Erik's neck for support, letting out a breathless little whimper as he took Erik's hard cock all the way into himself. Erik spread T'Challa's cheeks wide with his palms, and T'Challa bit his lip as began to ride Erik's cock, bouncing up and down in his lap. 

Erik leaned back against the throne, basking in the feeling of tight wet heat around him, the sensation of having an eager omega riding his cock. He couldn't have asked for a better mate. 

“You seem quite close to T’Challa now,” W’Kabi observed.

Erik suddenly recalled that W'Kabi had still been in the room when he was flirting with T'Challa earlier. He shrugged noncommittally. "Turns out that he's a pretty good consort," Erik admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn't see the point in denying it. There was nothing to be ashamed of, anyway - it was only natural for a newly mated couple to be very…affectionate. 

"Well, I'm glad to see you two getting along," W'Kabi said. “But how is this going to affect our plans? Because I can’t see T’Challa being on board with this.”

W'Kabi gestured at the world map spread out on the table in their secret war room. Colour-coordinated markers had been placed neatly on the surface of the map to highlight the areas where their War Dogs had the most influence, the areas that would make the best military targets, as well as the areas that were most likely to have grassroots support for an armed revolution. The goal was to seed a few volatile places with enough weapons and operatives to make revolution probable, if not an outright certainty, without getting directly involved. Just a small nudge here and there in the right places could spark a revolution under the right conditions. Erik had wanted to keep direct intervention to a minimum, at least at the beginning. 

Erik frowned down at the map. W'Kabi had identified his one weak spot. When T'Challa had previously asked him about his plans, he had managed to placate T'Challa with vague assurances of working together. But soon he would start asking more questions, and it would become clear that they had very different visions of the future. Erik couldn't see it turning out well. 

Erik held back a sigh. "I told him that we'll try working towards a peaceful solution first."

W'Kabi raised a sceptical eyebrow at Erik. His eyes flicked over the map setting out their military strategy. 

Erik winced, feeling an uncharacteristic little stab of guilt spike through his chest. "I know, I know. T'Challa is my problem. I'll handle him." 

W'Kabi said, "Have you considered it, though? T'Challa's proposal?" 

"You're getting cold feet now?" 

"Not exactly," W'Kabi said. "For too long we've been hiding in the shadows, watching and waiting when we could have done so much more. We can build the greatest empire the world has ever known, usher in the longest era of peace and prosperity never before seen on this planet. But at what cost? Revolution involves bloodshed, yes. But I would still prefer to avoid that as far as possible. If T'Challa has a better proposal - " 

"He doesn't actually have any better ideas, as an alternative to outright conquest," Erik said dismissively. "He brought up some suggestions about outreach and donations. Just temporary fixes. Nothing that would lead to real structural change."

"You're right, I don't think that would really work," W'Kabi said, a frown appearing across his face. "I think he just doesn't really understand how bad it is out there, not in the same, visceral way that we do." 

"Like I said, T'Challa is my problem," Erik said. "I'll bring this in a way that won't upset him too much. He'll come around -" 

Suddenly, Erik felt a jolt run through his entire body, as if he had been shot. He inhaled sharply, putting a hand to his chest. 

"What's wrong?" W'Kabi asked, looking alarmed. 

Erik's heart was pounding fast. There was a strange, warm feeling throughout his body, as if fire was spreading through his veins. Heat prickled across his skin. He had never felt like this before.

Had he been poisoned? 

Anger and fear spiked within Erik, but already the unexpected flash of heat was fading, retreating to the back of his mind - a hot, pulsing warmth, surrounding the mental link he shared with T'Challa. 

Themating bond. 

"T'Challa's in heat," Erik said aloud, as realization struck. 

"So fast?" W'Kabi looked surprised.

Theoretically, it could happen at any time, although most omegas went into heat quite rarely, and only when the conditions were particularly good for breeding. It wasn't uncommon for omegas to go up to years or decades without experiencing heat, and some omegas never even went into heat at all. That T'Challa had gone into heat so soon after their bonding was a very good sign. 

Erik stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back from the desk. "I'm going to him," Erik said. Excitement sparked in his blood. He could feel T'Challa calling out to him cross their mental bond, an irresistible siren call towards his bond mate.

His plans temporarily forgotten, Erik rushed out of the war room in search of T'Challa.