“You’ve never been to a Halloween party?” Tony asks, shocked. T’Challa sighs because once again Tony seems to have forgotten that not everyone shared his culture.
“No, I have not,” he says blandly, “because in Wakanda we have better things to do than dress up as some fictional monster and get drunk.” He did not understand the American obsession with monsters and supernatural creatures. They all claimed they were a logic-based and advanced society but in Wakanda there were no months of the year when animal shelters stopped selling a particular animal because they were afraid it would be sacrificed to the devil. T’Challa wanted to round up all the black cats in America and send them to Wakanda, where they would have good lives, but he was told that was dramatic.
But then it was Tony who told him that and the man was currently wearing red tinted glasses, he was not a good judge of the dramatic. “Oh but come on, T’Challa, its part of the American experience!” Tony says, grinning wildly. He’s certain that Tony is already drunk but it was difficult to tell when he acted like this all the time.
“I have had plenty of American experience, thank you. I went to Oxford before this,” he points out.
Tony rolls his eyes dramatically and yes, he was drunk, he turned into William Shatner drunk. “That’s Britain,” Tony tells him, “that doesn’t count as an American experience!”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. The Brits have culture that they haven’t stolen from their Indigenous populations,” he says bluntly, “and the tea actually tastes good.”
“Tea snob,” Tony accuses but T’Challa would not apologize for having working taste buds. “But you make a point about the culture thing. Seriously though, you have to come with me!” Tony says, pressing into T’Challa excitedly. He can’t help but melt a little, wrapping an arm around Tony and pressing a kiss to his forehead for being so… Tony. His family may not approve but they did not know Tony like T’Challa did.
“Fine. But what are you, exactly?” he asks, eyeing Tony’s well put together three piece suit, red tinted sun glasses, and name tag that read ‘you know who I am’.
“A quirky billionaire,” Tony says, smiling wide. T’Challa was under the impression that you had to dress up as something you were not but Tony was not fond of rules, so perhaps this was one of those things he did to annoy people or gain attention. He had a hard time keeping up sometimes.
*
“Ha, you’re a black cat!” Tony says, marveling at the headband with ears on it that he just placed on T’Challa’s head. He was certain that this did not count as a costume- how could it- but Tony looks so pleased with himself that T’Challa can’t bring himself to criticize Tony’s choice of costume.
“You asshole,” Rhodey says, giving Tony the stink eye for that, “he’s a black cat?”
Tony frowns, “yeah… because the ears are black… clearly he isn’t a tabby, the ears are black,” he says slowly, trying to find the logic. He stares at the ears and squints as if he half expects them to change color and T’Challa finally takes pity on him.
“He’s referring to my race, Tony.” It takes a second before Tony clues in but T’Challa watches as the light goes off, then watches as the second light goes off when he realizes what Rhodey was hinting at.
“Oh god, that wasn’t meant to be racist, I am so sorry. I meant the ears, the ears are black! Well, I mean you are too, but that was irrelevant to my- I’m just gunna stop talking now,” Tony says, wilting a little. T’Challa wants to hug him close and explain that Rhodes was being an ass but that would ruin the joke and figured he would let Rhodey have his fun.
“What’s going on?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow at Tony’s wilting. Tony did not wilt, he strutted. The day they met he strutted right into T’Challa, who was not impressed with the experience but then Tony noticed the designs he was holding. Instead of apologizing he went off on a very long rant about how to make the design better. The saving grace was that he was not condescending about it; he had complimented the idea several times, but stated it could be more efficient. T’Challa had been curious to see if Tony actually knew what he was talking about or not and two hours later they had somehow gotten into an argument about which large cat was the best large cat. Panthers were clearly the best large cats, but Tony was a fan of tigers.
“T’Challa’s a black cat,” Rhodey says and Sam gives Tony an impressive look to indicate how done he was with that comment. Slang might be a bit difficult to pick up on sometimes, but it was rather amusing if you were in on the joke. The best part of youth slang was that the older adults were more lost than T’Challa so he didn’t feel particularly out of place.
“The… the ears,” Tony says quietly, gesturing vaguely at T’Challa’s head.
Sam can’t keep a straight face and he and Rhodey burst out laughing, doubling over and colliding, clinging to one another to keep themselves up. It takes a second for Tony to clue in and once he does he gives Rhodey and Sam one of those ‘done’ looks, “ha ha, guys, hilarious,” he says and T’Challa snorts. Tony looks highly betrayed that T’Challa has laughed but he couldn’t help it, the look on Tony’s face was amusing.
*
He was not wrong about his ears barely counting as a costume, several people point it out, but he shrugs and explains that he has never done the Halloween thing before. That’s when all the Americans express their horror and offer condolences as if T’Challa didn’t have cultural traditions of his own. Tomorrow he was going to force Tony out of bed early so they could do Wakandan chants. Wakandans didn’t really chant, but if he had to put up with Tony’s annoying American traditions than Tony could suffer with a few ‘traditions’ T’Challa made up about his own culture for revenge purposes. Rhodey thought this game as amusing and often contributed ideas, as did Sam.
T’Challa had to suffer through an absurd holiday that included a fat man in red breaking into people’s homes, Tony could suffer drinking some horrible concoction T’Challa claimed was traditional tea. T’Challa had been drinking juice so it wasn’t like he was suffering any, and it forced Tony to keep a straight face as to not offend him. Rhodey had been forced to leave the room so he could laugh elsewhere. Now he was suffering through Halloween, Tony could suffer through fake chants. At this point he half hoped his family never approved of his relationship with Tony because T’Challa was going to have to reverse near every misconception Tony had about Wakandan culture. Currently that was almost everything because Tony decided that T’Challa just had to do this or that American thing.
At some point Tony reappears after having wandered off, which was considerably typical of him at these events. “Hey,” he slurs, all but falling into T’Challa, “you’re a pretty kitty,” he mumbles into T’Challa’s chest.
“One, never say that again. Two, you’re cut off all alcohol,” he says. Tony doesn’t fight the ban, thankfully, because T’Challa would haul his ass out over his shoulder if he needed to. That’s about when Natasha shows up and challenges him to some drinking game, which Tony wakes up in time to encourage him to do. According to Tony Natasha remained undefeated at the game and he was always up for a challenge. Though he was far more challenged by the idea that Natasha could possibly be dressed as a black widow spider when her ‘costume’ consisted of a spider clip on her head.
The last thing he remembers from that night is the loud cheers as he manages to drink Natasha under and he has no idea how he did it. If the stunned look on her face was any indication neither did she.
*
He shudders as the loud chiming from his StarkPad goes off but the ring tone was the one he set for his father and one does not keep the king waiting. It takes a moment but he locates the device and answers the call, looking absolutely haggard. He’s eighty percent sure he has greeted his father but his head hurts and he feels bruised all over. His father does not look impressed with this but T’Challa could afford a night of fun, it was hardly like this was going to be in the news or something.
“Have you seen the news this morning or are you too hung over?” his father asks in their native tongue. T’Challa looks at the clock and resists the urge to shudder in horror, who called at eight in the morning after a night of drinking?
Tony, apparently, has the same idea because he all but yells, “it’s the crack of dawn, who the fuck is that?”
“My father,” T’Challa tells his quietly. Tony bolts straight up and he looked worse off than T’Challa did, which was hardly a surprise. His hair was stuck flat to his head on one side, the rest was wild, and he was still in his suit though he was considerably disheveled. The name tag was still stuck to Tony’s lapel.
“Oh god I insulted the king of Wakanda. I feel like shit. Nope, it passed, I’m good. Nope again, I lied, I’m going to go projectile vomit now,” Tony says bluntly before stumbling off to the bathroom.
“And you wonder why I do not approve,” his father says and T’Challa sighs. It wasn’t that he didn’t know why his father disapproved; it was that his father didn’t know the whole story and if he did T’Challa felt he would be more willing to give Tony a chance.
“It was one night,” T’Challa says finally, a useless defense he knows.
“One that made international news!” That… that was news and T’Challa lets out another sigh as he anticipates a through lecture from his father while he checks the news. When he discovers what the buzz was about he rolls his eyes, earning another half lecture about pride from his father.
“It was nothing,” T’Challa says, looking at the picture. It was probably a lot more amusing drunk but he saw no issue with it sober. All it was was a picture of him and Tony kissing with the caption ‘he’s a debauched billionaire now’. The audience wouldn’t have even been in on the joke that Tony had essentially dressed up as himself for Halloween. However his father still does not look impressed and he sits through his lecture without saying a word, nodding along when necessary.
Tony returns near the end of the speech looking far less green, “did you say something about Wakandan chants last night?” he says, throwing himself on the bed.
His father frowns at him, “Wakandan chants?” he asks in English.
“He has a lot of misconceptions about Wakanda,” T’Challa says in way of an explanation.
“Do not, I’ve been listening to everything you’ve been saying, I’ve taken notes,” Tony says, offended at the assumption that he had not been paying attention. T’Challa suddenly feels horrible or duping Tony when he had been listening so intently. It was not something that came naturally to him unless he was interested in the subject and he felt terrible for accidentally taking advantage of Tony’s trust.
“What has you looking so guilty, my son?” his father asks gently, this time in their native language. T’Challa is relieved because Tony, for all his trying and talent with languages, was no good at picking up Wakandan.
T’Challa outlines his general irritation with American traditions, Tony’s insistence he participate in them, and his petty revenge via made up Wakandan traditions. He expects another lecture on not butchering his own culture as a means of revenge but instead his father bursts out laughing, proclaiming that Americans were idiots. T’Challa relaxes a little and agrees, telling him about the tea thing and Tony’s trying and mostly succeeding at not looking like he was about to throw up. His father finds this particularly amusing and tells him that he is doing the lord’s work before wishing him a good day and disconnecting the call.
“What was that?” Tony asks, tilting his head suspiciously.
“Nothing important. Now get up, we’re doing those chants. Do you have feathers?” he asks, getting a sudden bit of inspiration. He wondered if he could get Tony’s AI to send a video of this to his father without alerting Tony to the joke.
He would tell Tony at some point that his notes, while very sweet, were absolutely useless but for now he was going to make sure that Tony suffered for the nasty hangover T’Challa had.