Spoils

Epilogue 

T'Challa was extremely demanding when he was pregnant. Erik hadn't thought T'Challa would be that sort of omega who thought being pregnant meant that his alpha ought to wait upon him hand and foot, but apparently there was some truth to the old stereotypes after all. 

"I'm hungry," T'Challa said, sounding just a touch petulant. He was lying on his side on a low sofa, his hands curled protectively around his growing belly and his feet propped up in Erik's lap. On T'Challa's request, Erik was giving him a foot massage. T'Challa was in his fifth month of pregnancy now, and the extra pressure on his legs and water retention in his ankles was starting to become very uncomfortable. The doctor had informed them that T'Challa was carrying twins - a boy and a girl. Multiple pregnancies weren't that uncommon for omegas, but it was T’Challa’s first pregnancy, and he was still getting used to carrying around so much extra weight.

"We just had lunch!" Erik said in disbelief, his hands stilling where he had been rubbing T'Challa's feet just moments ago. At lunch earlier, T'Challa had polished off an entire leg of roast pork with crispy, crinkling skin, a heaping plate of stir-fried leafy greens on spiced pilaf rice wrapped in an egg omelette followed by two bowls of dessert. 

"He's eating for three, idiot!" Shuri snapped at Erik. "For your babies! Are you just going to sit there, you useless alpha? Go and get him something to eat!" 

Erik growled under his breath, but T'Challa just smiled indulgently at Shuri while Erik rolled his eyes. 

Erik didn't have any siblings, but he suspected this must be what it felt like to be the middle child who was constantly ganged up on by his eldest and youngest siblings. It was so unfair. Even though Erik was T'Challa's alpha, T'Challa still took Shuri's side much more often than Erik liked. The two of them had made up very quickly after Shuri dosed T'Challa with her serum - T'Challa was quite pleased with how well his heat had turned out, and Shuri had gradually come to grudgingly accept Erik as her brother's mate. They still rarely saw eye to eye and Erik knew that they would never be close, but for T'Challa's sake, they both had to put up with each other. 

"You shut the fuck up!" Erik shot back. Little brat. How dare she insinuate that he wasn't taking good care of his mate? 

"Erik!" T'Challa exclaimed, looking shocked and offended. 

Erik’s stomach dropped, and he relented almost immediately. 

"Sorry, baby," Erik apologised, giving T'Challa's foot an extra squeeze right where he knew T'Challa liked it best, where the base of his arch met the ball of his heel. It worked - T'Challa made a small appreciative noise and the tension began to drain out of his body. "Don't get stressed, it's bad for the baby. What do you wanna eat?" 

T'Challa let out a long-suffering sigh. "I'd be much less stressed if the two of you got along," he said. 

The twin expressions of disgust on Shuri and Erik's faces were so identical that T'Challa had to laugh.

"Could you get me a banana milkshake?" 

"Sure, babe."

"And make it a warm one."

"Warm?!" Erik couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice. Weird food cravings came with pregnancy, but a warm milkshake just sounded absolutely gross. 

T'Challa immediately started to pout, and Shuri was now back to glaring daggers at him. She opened her mouth, looking all set to lecture him further on why he was being a terrible, terrible alpha. 

"Nah, I just wanted to double-check with you first," Erik said hastily. "I'll get that warm milkshake for you. How hot do you want it, kitten?" 

T'Challa tilted his head to the side, considering the question. "A bit below boiling. About seventy degrees." 

Erik winced internally, but somehow he managed to keep a straight face. He gave T'Challa's feet a final brief rub before standing up from the sofa. "Right. One banana milkshake coming up, kitten."

The beaming smile that spread across T’Challa’s face made it all worth it. The gagging noise that Shuri made upon hearing his usual pet name for T’Challa was just the icing on the cake.

Pregnancy seemed to have made T’Challa much more horny than usual. Perhaps it was the influx of omega hormones into his body, or perhaps it was just that Erik now seemed unable to keep his hands off T'Challa's thickening hips and full figure. Erik constantly told him how gorgeous he looked as his hips grew wider and his ass became even fuller and rounder than before. 

Now that T’Challa was coming in his sixth month of pregnancy with their twins, his belly was almost as swollen as it would have been had he been carrying a single full-term child. It took quite a bit of manoeuvring and positioning before they could have sex properly. 

Right now T’Challa was lying on his side, his left leg crooked up at an angle and supported by Erik's hand as he spread T'Challa's legs apart. Erik was spooning T'Challa from behind while fucking him, taking care not to jostle him too much. 

T'Challa arched in Erik's arms as his cock ground against a particularly pleasurable spot deep within him. "Oh, oh - right there - " 

Erik's began to thrust unerringly against that spot, making T'Challa see stars. It felt as if every nerve in his body was lighting up. Soon his moans became high, keening gass as Eriks cock spread him wide open and his hand stimulated T'Challa's cock.

He could feel the telltale swelling of Erik's knot at the base of his cock, pressing up against the rim of T'Challa's stretched hole. T'Challa spread his legs wider to accommodate the stretch of Erik's knot, but to his dismay, Erik simply pulled halfway out of him, taking care not to knot within T'Challa. With a grunt and a few hard, erratic thrusts, Erik's cock pulsed and then began to release spurts of come within T'Challa even as the flared base of his knot expanded just outside of T'Challa spreading his cheeks apart. 

T'Challa pouted. That had been fun, but it would have been more satisfying if Erik had knotted him properly. It was the third time in a row that Erik had knotted outside him, and he missed the feeling of being split wide apart on his alpha’s knot, stuffed so full that he couldn't think straight. 

"You can still knot me, you know," T'Challa protested, trying not to sound too whiny. He wriggled a bit against Erik, trying to see if he could fit the knot within himself, but Erik merely tightened his grip on T'Challa and embraced him so hard that T'Challa could barely move an inch. 

“Don't wanna hurt you,” Erik whispered huskily against the shell of T’Challa’s ear.

The feeling of Erik’s breath against his skin made T’Challa shiver. It tickled, and he had to choke down an undignified little giggle. 

"It won't hurt," T'Challa argued, not entirely truthfully. Erik's knot large enough to make him wince in discomfort even when he was mentally prepared for it, but that was part of the fun - that shocking mix of pain and pleasure, all-consuming in its intensity, making him gasp and cry out no matter how much he tried to brace himself for it. 

Erik laughed. "You missed my knot that much?" 

"..." T'Challa gave a noncommittal little mumble and a shrug. He didn't want to inflate Erik's ego even further, but he knew that it was already too late for that. 

Erik laughed again and cuddled him close. "All right, all right. I'll consider it the next time round." 

"Consider?" T'Challa protested. 

Erik relented. "Okay, fine. We'll do it the way you like it. Gently."

T'Challa beamed. Erik was much more accommodating these days. He wondered if he could tease Erik into fucking him again so that Erik could knot him right away, but what Erik was doing right now - running his fingers down the smooth skin on T'Challa's back, occasionally massaging the sore muscles on his lower back - felt very nice too, and he didn't want Erik to stop yet. 

He snuggled back into Erik's arms and allowed himself to luxuriate in the feeling of being petted and stroked by his alpha. 

Erik's hand was trailing lower now, down the small of his back. Then he began to cup and play with T'Challa's ass. 

T'Challa squirmed as Erik gave his ass cheeks a good squeeze. His ass had really filled out recently with all the weight that he had put on during the pregnancy. Erik really loved playing with it. 

"Um, maybe you could…" T'Challa let his voice trail off as he was suddenly struck by a totally uncharacteristic feeling of shyness. Was he really going to ask Erik this?

"Hmm?" 

T'Challa felt his face heat up. "Maybe you could… spank me a little?" 

Erik almost never punished him seriously, and he had certainly never done it ever since T'Challa had gotten pregnant. The problem was, T'Challa had discovered that he quite enjoyed it. He'd wanted to die of embarrassment the first time that Erik had spanked him properly, but it had also been extremely hot. 

"Seriously?" 

T'Challa squirmed in embarrassment and blurted out the next few words before he could think better of it. "Yes, now don't make me ask again." 

To his surprise, Erik complied without his usual fussing about how delicate T'Challa was. He gave T'Challa's left ass cheek a light, playful slap, not even hard enough to sting. It bounced under the force of the blow.

"Ah - maybe a bit harder than that?" T'Challa's voice shook a little from the strain of holding back his embarrassment. He had barely even be able to feel that.

The next slap against his ass could only barely be called a ‘slap’ - it was more akin to a friendly pat. T’Challa gritted his teeth in consternation and squirmed.

Somehow he worked up the courage to mumble, “Can you do it harder than that? Much harder? Like - like how you did it the last time.”

From this angle, with his back facing towards Erik, T'Challa couldn't see the expression on Erik's face. But he somehow knew that Erik was frowning down at him. 

"Are you sure? The babies -" Erik began. 

"Will be fine!" T’Challa exclaimed. “Please, Erik!”

The needy desperation in his voice was enough to convince Erik. 

"Okay, okay. You'll let me know immediately if you think there's anything wrong, all right?" 

T'Challa could barely contain his excitement. "Of course."

"Maybe you should bend over something," Erik suggested. 

T’Challa eagerly scrambled out of bed. Erik moved to sit near the edge of the bed, then pulled T'Challa close so that T'Challa was bending over his lap. T'Challa put out his hands to steady himself, and Erik slid a few pillows under T'Challa's hips to prop them up and support his belly. 

"Comfortable?"

"Mmm." T'Challa nodded. With the amount of soft padding underneath him, it was actually more comfortable than lying in bed. 

He couldn't believe Erik was actually agreeing to do this. Suddenly he felt very exposed and vulnerable, bent over Erik's lap like this. He shivered in anticipation as Erik patted his ass again experimentally, as if deciding how hard T'Challa could take it. 

"I'll stop after ten. Let me know if it hurts too much, or if you want me to stop earlier." 

Without warning, the first slap landed against T'Challa's right ass cheek, hard enough to make him stiffen and yelp aloud. This was no playful smack. Stinging heat bloomed across T'Challa's ass, radiating out from the centre of impact. Surprised by how hard the spanking was right off the bat, T'Challa could only gasp. Belatedly, he remembered how much Erik had enjoyed spanking him the first time round, how he hadn't stopped until T'Challa was in tears. 

What had he gotten himself into? 

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the force of the second spank landing on his left ass cheek this time, just as hard and loud as the first slap. Even though he had been expecting it, a whimper of shock still escaped from T'Challa's lips at the suddenness of the sting. The force of the slap sent him rising to his toes. He only managed to keep himself bent over with his ass raised with some difficulty. 

Erik rubbed the part where she has just spanked, wordlessly enquiring whether it was too much. 

"Go on," T'Challa said impatiently, as a flush of embarrassment rose to his cheeks. He couldn't deny how much he liked it - the unexpected mix of pain and pleasure, the throbbing heat in his ass that was starting to spread to the area between his thighs. Even though they had just fucked, T'Challa could feel his cock stiffening with interest against Erik's upper thigh. Something about being taken in hand by his alpha like this got T'Challa all worked up. 

He was practically panting for it when Erik began the spanking again. The next few swats landed rapidly enough that T'Challa barely had time to catch his breath in between each stinging smack. 

Tingling heat spread over his skin, and T'Challa whimpered again as the sting built to almost unbearable levels. It hurt to be spanked over and over when his skin was already starting to become flushed and tender, but T'Challa loved the sensation of pain and pleasure mixing until he couldn't tell which was which. He rocked back and forth against Erik's thigh, trying to get more friction against his cock. 

Erik gave him another little break after a few more slaps. He scraped his fingernails lightly over T'Challa's heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. His skin felt raw and sensitized, and even the slightest touch was enough to make T'Challa shiver. 

T'Challa's breath hitched as Erik smoothed the flat of his palm against T'Challa's ass, fingers just teasing over his crack. He moaned out loud when Erik suddenly gave his ass a firm squeeze. 

"Ready?" 

"Yes. More," T'Challa pleaded. He was trembling over Erik's knee, quivering as he waited for the spanking to begin anew. He face felt hot and incredibly flushed, a keen reminder of just how badly he wanted it. When Erik ghosted his fingers over T'Challa's ass again, T'Challa could've cried out in frustration. 

"Erik, please!" 

"I just love to hear you beg," Erik said, a touch of smugness in his voice. 

Without warning, he raised his hand and slapped T'Challa's ass hard enough that his buttocks actually bounced. 

T'Challa cried out in shock at the unexpected sting as the sound of Erik's hand impacting against his bare ass rang out through the room. Heat spread across his skin again as Erik continued to spank him hard, holding T'Challa in place with his left hand so that T'Challa couldn't wiggle away no matter how much he squirmed. 

That had definitely been more than ten, a little voice at the back of his mind protested. At least twenty? 

He hadn't been keeping count, but he was sure that Erik had gotten a little carried away. Not that he could blame Erik - he hadn't indicated that he wanted Erik to stop. Indeed, he was still panting and whimpering for more even under the renewed onslaught of slaps, humping Erik's thigh for better friction as Erik turned his ass pink. He was sure that Erik could smell how wet and eager he was. 

T'Challa's heart was pounding hard as he spread his legs, alternatingly lifting his ass up to meet each slap of Erik's hand and shying away whenever the pain got a bit too much. He was so hard that he could feel his cock leaking all over Erik's thigh. 

Erik clearly felt it too. He paused the spanking to fondle T'Challa's ass again, drawing a groan from him, and then he slid his hand under T'Challa to grip T'Challa's cock. 

"Oh, Bast!" With a small gasp, T'Challa came in Erik's palm after only a few quick, teasing strokes focused on the head of his cock. His cock pulsed in Erik's hand, painting it with spurts of sticky white come. 

T'Challa stood bent over for several seconds, head hanging down and panting for breath, savouring the waves of pleasure that rocked his body. Then his sense of modesty suddenly returned to him in a flash. 

A hot flush spread over his cheeks as he recalled how wantonly he had behaved. Ducking his head, he let his body fall again the bed, being careful not to jostle his belly. H snagged a pillow close so that he could hide his burning face.

Erik laughed affectionately and patted his ass again, drawing a small flinch and a whine of discomfort from T'Challa when his hand made contact with his still-sore ass. "Don't be shy. It was cute." 

T'Challa groaned, muffled, against the pillow. "Don't call me - that. Cute."

"Hot, then." There was a sparkle in Erik's eyes as he dragged the pillow away from T'Challa's face so that T'Challa was forced to look him in the eye. "We should do that more often. I didn't realize you liked being spanked so much." 

T'Challa's blush was back with a vengeance. He made all the right noises in protest, but deep down, he was very much looking forward to it. 

The next few months passed by in a flash. T'Challa got rounder and crankier with each passing day. Even sex could only keep him happy for a brief period before he was back to bossing Erik around, grumbling about the babies bruising him from the inside with their kicks, and making demands for increasingly more disgusting foods. 

Erik would never admit it, but as terrified as he was by the prospect of becoming a father, it was almost a relief when T'Challa's water finally broke. 

Now Erik was pacing back and forth in front of the hospital room. Despite his protests, he hadn't been allowed to remain  in the same room as T'Challa when he was giving birth. The doctors had been very adamant about it. Even pulling rank hadn't helped. The attending doctor had just frowned at Erik and informed him, "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but it's not appropriate to have alphas present in the birthing chamber. It'll just cause more stress for your omega, and the nurses and doctors also need to be able to work without being disturbed. I know you want to be with Prince T'Challa, but it's really better for you to wait outside."

Erik had given up after only a few token protests. He had no problem handling gory murder scenes, but the thought of actually watching a childbirth was terrifying on a whole other level. It helped that T’Challa hadn’t been keen for Erik to stay, either - he had shooed Erik out of the room in accordance with the doctor’s instructions, so Erik was now waiting outside the room guilt-free. 

They were still in close enough proximity that Erik could feel T'Challa's agony through the mating bond. Red hot pain and horrible, cramping contractions that came and ebbed in waves, accompanied by encouraging chants for T'Challa to push harder. The iron tang of blood filled the air, grating against his herb-enhanced senses. It made Erik's hair stand on end and adrenaline flood through his body, preparing him for a fight. His mate was hurt. He had to defend him - stand guard - 

Erik shook off the unexpectedly powerful instinct that urged him to pick a fight with the closest random passerby. No wonder he hadn't been allowed to remain in the birthing chamber. 

T'Challa had been in there for hours now. Was it normal to be in labour for so long? Erik's nerves were already fraying, and there were bloody little half-crescents in his palms where his nails had been digging into his own skin. The doctors had assured him that it was likely to be a smooth birth, but Erik still couldn't help but worry. 

Another stab of pain ripped through his mind, and Erik gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw hurt. A cry of agony rose up from behind the door to T'Challa's hospital room - followed swiftly by the unmistakable wail of an infant. 

Twin wails. 

Erik's heart leapt. 

He immediately made his way to the door, not even bothering to knock before throwing it open. 

Erik's eyes were immediately drawn to T'Challa, the centre of all the activity in the room. He was lying on the reclining bed, his feet still fastened in stirrups, his expression one of bone-deep exhaustion and triumph. 

"The babies -" Erik began, his heart pounding fast. 

One of the nurses placed a tiny little newborn, swaddled in a blue blanket, in Erik's arms. Their other baby girl was placed on T'Challa's chest. Immediately, she began pawing weakly at her dam's chest, searching for milk. 

Erik looked down at the baby in his arms, hardly daring to breathe. 

His child. 

The newborn's eyes were closed, his face scrunched up in a frown as if objecting to the noise and bustle of the outside world after nine months spent in warmth and darkness. He was so small. And wrinkled. Erik couldn't believe that he had - that they had - made this fragile little thing. 

Panic clutched at Erik's chest as the baby's face screwed up and he began to wail again. Hastily, Erik handed the baby off to T'Challa, who took him from Erik with a long-suffering smile on his face. 

His fingers briefly brushed against Erik's, and Erik caught T'Challa's hand in his own, entwining their fingers together. His heart felt so full that he thought it would burst with happiness. 

Leaning down, Erik pressed a tender kiss to T'Challa's forehead, savouring the warm feeling as T'Challa instinctively curled close to him.

"Congratulations on the birth of your twins!" the attending doctor said. "Have you decided on their names yet?" 

It was T'Challa who answered for both of them as they had previously discussed. T'Challa had loved both of Erik's suggestions at once, but the rest of his family had needed a bit more convincing. Eventually, Ramonda and Shuri had come around. 

"Nara," T'Challa said, smoothing his hand over their baby girl's forehead. "And N'Joku, our baby boy."