Spoils

Heat coursed through T'Challa's veins, making him feel as if he were burning up from the inside. It came and went in waves, rising to a crescendo and then cresting, leaving him feeling empty and drained in the rare few moments of lucidity when the heat had ebbed enough to return him to his senses. When that happened, he was left with the awful sensation that something was missing - that he had somehow lost the other half of himself.

T’Challa was drenched in sweat, his skin covered with a thin sheen of it, leaving him wet and sticky all over. Between his inner thighs, slick and sweat mingled together, and whenever he rubbed his thighs against each other in a desperate attempt to get more friction, all he did was create even more of a slippery-slick mess. 

T’Challa let out a high, desperate keen of want, twisting his hands into the sheets of the bed that Shuri had set up in a corner of the lab. In addition to the bed, she had also provided enough bedding for T’Challa to construct a nest out of sheets, pillows and blankets. Whenever his nesting instinct took over in between waves of heat, T’Challa would rearrange the bedding in a frenzy, moving the pillows around to create a soft wall and lining the bottom of his makeshift nest with layers of soft, silky smooth blankets. Everything had to be perfect before his alpha arrived. He had to make the nest warm enough for his mate and for their cubs.

Shuri’s robots stood at the foot of his bed, watching his actions with their mechanical, unblinking eyes. Occasionally, one of them would step forward to do something for him - pass him a glass of water, a plate of fruit, and so on. T’Challa was too far gone into heat to feel self-conscious about being watched over like that. The primal, animal part of himself was merely glad to have someone seeing to his every need. He had everything that an omega in heat needed - a sheltered place to build his nest away from predators and rival omegas, plenty of food and water, and a safe place to raise his cubs.

He had everything that he needed. Everything, except his alpha.

Another crushing wave of want and desperation swept over T’Challa, making him whine high in his throat. He spread his legs, desperately humping against a pillow which he had removed from the side of his nest. But no matter how hard he tried to rub himself off against the silky material of the pillowcase, no matter how many fingers he tried to fit into himself, he could still get no relief. It wasn't enough. He wanted - needed - his alpha's knot. Craved it. 

T'Challa whimpered as he withdrew his fingers from deep within himself with a lewd, wet sound, still feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. Slick trickled down the inside of his thigh, leaving him sticky and wet. The air was saturated with the pheromones of a ripe, fertile omega in heat.

He slapped a hand over the bite mark at the side of his neck, where Erik's teeth had pierced through his mating gland during their bonding. He felt warm all over, but the healed skin over that bite mark felt like a fiery brand against his neck, burning and itching no matter how hard he tried to soothe it by rubbing his fingers against the side of his neck. T’Challa yearned for his mate to kiss away the pain, to put his mouth against that soft, tender spot and mark again T’Challa as truly his own. 

Where was Erik?

A growl of pure frustration bubbled up from the centre of T’Challa’s chest. If his mate wasn’t going to be there when T’Challa needed him - if his mate couldn’t be relied upon to even show up - then T’Challa didn’t need him. He was young and fertile. He could easily find another alpha to take care of him. Someone who would truly appreciate him and shower him with attention, someone who would give him the knot and the cubs that he craved. 

A small voice at the back of T'Challa's mind was screaming in horror, trying to remind himself that Shuri had orchestrated this with the express purpose of breaking then up, that it wasn't Erik's fault that he couldn't reach T'Challa in time. But it was drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of rejection and hurt. 

His alpha wasn't coming. 

He didn't want T'Challa. 

T'Challa's breath hitched in a small sob. The edges of the bond were starting to fray at the back of his mind. He could still feel Erik's emotions through their mating bond - rage and frustration and panic - but already the intensity of Erik's emotions were starting to fade as their connection dimmed. A new wave of fiery lust hit him, lust mingled with an undercurrent rebellious anger. 

It was fine. 

He didn’t need Erik. 

He could easily attract any other alpha he wanted. 

T'Challa spread his thighs, arching his back to raise his ass invitingly as he began to finger himself open again. It still didn't help to ease the aching emptiness within him that could only be fixed by an alpha's knot, but it did soothe the ache a little. Wild thoughts rushed through his mind. He didn't want to leave the nest that he had so painstakingly built, but he would do it if he had to, to seek out an alpha that would see him through his heat properly. 

A sharp stab of pain spiked through T'Challa's chest at the finality of that decision, the knowledge that he had truly been abandoned by his mate. With an effort, T'Challa pushed it to the back of his mind. He could - he could be brave. He'd look after himself. It wasn't too late to leave the room and look for another alpha - maybe one of the Dora Milaje, or a servant, or… 

It was at this moment that the door to his room swung open. 

His heart leaping, T'Challa twisted around to look. 

Could it really be…?

Erik. 

It was Erik. 

Erik was standing in the doorway, breathing hard, hands clenched into fists and his body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He locked eyes with T'Challa, and T'Challa felt an electric thrill surge through his body as Erik's eyes, glowing apha gold, met his own. 

In five strides Erik was next to T'Challa's bed. The mannequins retreated as Erik advanced towards him. Somehow he had managed to get ahold of Shuri's kimoyo bracelet  and with a simple gesture he sent them scurrying out of the room before sweeping T'Challa up into his arms. 

A wave of sheer relief swept over T'Challa at the feeling of Erik's cool skin against his own, threatening to overwhelm him, and his eyes filled with tears. The fire under his skin immediately dulled to a warm, pleasant simmering tingle as his mate ran his fingers over his exposed skin, as if he couldn't get enough of T'Challa.

Erik's lips met his own in a bruising, hungry kiss. T'Challa yielded to it, tilting his head up and relishing in the feeling of Erik's tongue tangling against his own and occasional sharp nips to his bottom lip that had him gasping. 

"Where were you?" T'Challa demanded when Erik finally pulled away, trying to sound angry but completely failing as he instinctively tried to snuggle closer to his mate. 

"Fighting your crazy sister off," Erik said, and T'Challa immediately stiffened. Now that his alpha was beside him, touching him, his heat-addled mind had cleared sufficiently for him to become lucid enough to be concerned for Shuri's safety. 

"Nah, don't worry, she's still in one piece. I didn't really hurt her," Erik assured him, and T'Challa breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm just sorry I was late," Erik added.

His voice was low and husky, and it sent a jolt of desire straight to T'Challa's groin. T'Challa's breathing quickened, his heart rate picking up. Erik's hand was stroking against his inner thigh now, and with a sudden motion, he shoved T'Challa's thighs apart and pushed him flat onto his back. 

T'Challa let himself fall back against the soft mattress. The heat was starting to build up again, making him pant and writhe against the sheets. He shifted his legs wider apart so that Erik could slot his own body between T'Challa's thighs. 

Erik stretched out over him, lowering his mouth to the base of T'Challa's neck. T'Challa practically wriggled in eager anticipation, but to his surprise and annoyance, the alpha just mouthed gently along the side of his neck, his lips ghosting over the warm, tender skin. 

T'Challa couldn't believe that Erik still had such self-control at a time like this. Usually he enjoyed it when Erik teased him, but he was so worked up right now that all he wanted to do was to get bonded and fucked. Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of his eyes. He squirmed as Erik pressed another warm, maddening kiss against the soft raised scar over his bonding gland, his tongue flicking over the area he had once marked. 

"Stop - stop teasing me already," T'Challa begged, arching up into meet Erik's touch. Erik loved seeing him beg for his cock, and for once T'Challa was desperate enough to not even bother pretending to put up a token resistance. T'Challa spread his legs shamelessly and tilted his head so that the entire column of his bare neck was presented to the alpha's fangs. "Erik! Please!" 

Without warning, Erik's teeth pierced through the scar at the base of his neck again in a shallow bite. 

T'Challa cried out, arching off the bed at the shock of the sting. He could feel droplets of his own blood oozing sluggishly from the wound. Erik made a small, comforting noise and then lapped over the bite mark with the flat of his warm, rough tongue, soothing away the pain.

Their mating bond flared again, blazing to life with an intensity T'Challa hadn't felt since the first time they had bonded, during the disastrous Challenge. He wasn't just able to sense Erik's emotions now. It was as if their minds had melded together, and he could feel each of Erik's emotions as keenly as if they were his own - his relief at reaching T'Challa in time, the wave of hot desire whenever he looked down at his pretty omega, his satisfaction at finally having T'Challa spread out before him, eager and wanting. And, running through it all like a bright, warm current - 

- Love. 

T'Challa's cheeks flushed with surprise and pleasure. This was everything he had ever wanted, but had never dared to hope for. Tears rose, unbidden, to his eyes as Erik tilted his face up to kiss him again, his lips tasting faintly of the iron tang of blood yet still feeling surprisingly soft and tender. 

His omega hindbrain was purring with delight as his alpha continued to kiss down the side of his neck, nuzzling him and inhaling his scent. T'Challa wrapped his arms around Erik as he spread his legs wider, tilting his hips up in invitation. He was so slick already that the sheets beneath him were soaked through. All he craved right now was his alpha's knot, and in his eagerness, he just barely managed to hold himself still as Erik took hold of his thighs and spread his legs further apart, then lined up the head of his cock against T'Challa's entrance. 

T'Challa bit his lip in anticipation, hardly daring to breathe. Then Erik entered him in one powerful thrust of his hips, stretching T'Challa's hole wide open on his cock. 

T'Challa's head fell back as he arched up to meet each thrust, gasping in pleasure on each forward stroke. In contrast to his earlier tenderness, Erik wasn't being gentle at all now. He was pounding into T'Challa hard and fast, each snap of his hips hard enough that T'Challa practically saw stars whenever the head of his cock ground unerringly against his prostate. It jolts of incredible pleasure shooting up T'Challa's spine, making him writhe against the sheets in ecstasy. This was exactly what he had been waiting for. 

T'Challa's gasps and moans filled the room as he lost himself to the haze of heat and pleasure, relishing in the feeling of finally being full of his alpha after waiting for so very long. His cock was throbbing with delicious heat, and on the next thrust, T'Challa cried out as it jerked between their joined bellies. He came all over himself and Erik. 

T'Challa tensed up and then let himself go limp, riding out the waves of pleasure as his hole rippled around Erik's cock. More slick gushed out from where they were joined, ruining the bedsheets. But Erik still didn't stop. He continued to fuck T'Challa into T'Challa's oversensitive body, pounding him into the mattress. 

T'Challa dug his nails into the scarred skin of Erik's back as the discomfort started to build. "Erik -" he began to plead, then cut himself off. He didn't exactly want Erik to stop, even if he was beginning to feel overly tender now. His omega body was still craving the sensation of a fat knot tying them together, of his alpha's come filling him up.

Babies, a voice at the back of his mind purred. Cubs.  

"You can take it," Erik said, his voice rough, making the decision for him. 

He placed one hand on each side of T'Challa's hips, holding T'Challa firmly in position on his cock despite T'Challa's squirming. The fresh edge of pain and sensitivity from each fresh thrust of Erik's cock against his tender inner walls elicited more moans from T'Challa, sparking a renewed wave of desire and heat. 

T'Challa panted for breath, feeling flushed and so very wet. The bright edge of pain was already starting to dissipate. After all, omega bodies were made for marathon sex. He lost himself in the sensation of being fucked by his alpha again, wrapping his legs tightly around Erik's hips and arching his back to take Erik deeper into himself. 

He could feel the telltale swelling at the base of Erik's cock within him. The itch to be knotted and bred rose again in his mind, so intense that it practically took his breath away. Erik’s thrusts were starting to become less precise and more animalistic now as he started to chase his knot. The thick swelling at the base of his cock tugged against the rim of T’Challa’s hole, making his breath catch at the mix of pleasure-pain. 

With a few hard, final thrusts, Erik's knot expanded suddenly within him. The sharp pressure against his inner walls made T'Challa cry out in shock. Despite how wet he was, he was never fully prepared for the size of Erik's knot. T’Challa inhaled, gasping for breath as warm spurts of come filled him, coating his insides until he was completely soaked with come and slick. Erik’s huge knot locked most of the come within him, preventing it from leaking out and increasing the chances of pregnancy and cubs. 

Erik still didn’t stop. Heat meant that they could both go on largely without rest until T’Challa’s heat eventually burned itself out, which might take anywhere from several hours to days - or until T’Challa eventually got pregnant. 

Erik continued to rut into T’Challa hard and fast, going on and on and on. 

Yes.

It was everything that T’Challa’s omega body wanted. He lost himself in a mindless haze of breeding, letting the waves of pleasure wash over him. 

T’Challa was now lying on his stomach, his hips propped up by several soft pillows so that his ass was raised for easier access. Erik's nails dug little crescents into the sides of his hips as he steadied T'Challa in position for each hard thrust. T'Challa's ass was filled with at least three loads of come, and trickles of come and slick were overflowing out from the edges of his raw, puffy hole, more of it squeezed out with each thrust with a filthy, lead squelch. There was a limit to how much could be held in him by Erik's knot. 

To be honest, despite how well-lubricated he was, it was starting to hurt by now. His insides felt raw and chafed, and it stung each time Erik thrust into him. But somehow  T'Challa still felt desperate for more. It was as if his body wasn't fully under his control, and he was still grinding back to meet each thrust as enthusiastically as he had been at the start, moaning, begging, for Erik to fuck him harder. For once, his regular human body was able to keep up with Erik's stamina during sex. 

T'Challa's breath caught as Erik began to knot him again. A pleased sigh escaped his lips at the sensation of come flooding his insides, hot and warm and wet. The pressure of Erik's knot against his inner walls and the feeling of his alpha's come rushing into him sent sparks of bright pain and pleasure across his nerves. Without conscious thought, he had started to purr, a pleased, low rumble rising through his chest. 

Erik lt out a long, satisfied exhale, his cock pulsing in rhythm with T'Challa's purrs. His tight grip on T'Challa's hips relaxed, and his hands shifted to the small of T'Challa's back, rubbing above the dip in his back. 

T'Challa tried to settle down into a comfortable position to wait out the next few minutes until Erik’s knot had deflated enough for them to go again. He shifted gingerly onto his side, wincing at the jolt of discomfort whenever his motions jostled the swelling knot within him. Erik stretched out beside him, throwing an arm casually over his shoulder before nuzzling into the side of his neck.

T’Challa shivered, goosebumps rising across his skin at the whispery tickle of Erik’s beard against his bare skin. He snuggled back into the arms surrounding him, his alpha’s body feeling pleasantly cool against his flushed skin.

“Tired yet?” Erik said lowly against his ear.

“No - I want to go again,” T’Challa said quickly, reflexively. It was his automatic response whenever Erik tried to suggest that they should take a break. 

But on second thought, this time, something felt different. 

Puzzled, T'Challa took stock of himself again. The heat that had been simmering through his body for hours seemed to have abruptly cooled. Although his skin was still covered with a thin sheen of sweat, he no longer felt flushed and desperate, as if he'd burn up and die if he didn't get his alpha's knot. 

Was his heat over already? 

T'Challa knew that it shouldn't have ended so fast. It had barely been a few hours since his heat had started.

Maybe Shuri's serum had already worn off? 

Or maybe… 

“I -” T’Challa swallowed. Suddenly it felt as if his throat was closing up. He could barely force the next words out of his mouth - the wave of emotion that was crashing into his mind was so overwhelming in its intensity. His heart was pounding so fast that his chest actually hurt. 

“I think I might be pregnant.”