#t'tony

Morning finds Tony bent over a bench with a torch in his hand. He has his goggles on and Rage Against the Machine is playing on the speakers. He’s in his work, thoughts running hundreds of miles per second, and… well, he might be a little bit sleep deprived. 

Well, it’s to be expected of a genius, isn’t it?

“I wish,” a firm voice jolts Tony out of his work. He looks up, pushing the goggles on his forehead, and assumes the blurry figure at the door is his boyfriend. He mostly bases that on the honey-rich, but disappointed voice and the black hair kept in a neat topknot. “I was more surprised to find you here, Anthony.”

“Babe! You know me too well to expect anything else!” he sends him a million-watt smile. It’s only a little bit fake, so that’s a plus. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” T’Challa sighs and swiftly undo his tie. He wraps the purple silk in a ball and puts it in a pocket, making his well-fitted suit pants bulge at the front. 

Tony wiggles his eyebrows at that and the corners of T’Challa’s mouth twitch in an almost-smile. 

“Happy to see me?”

“Always, my heart,” T’Challa answers without missing a beat.

Tony lets out a startled, embarrassed noise that sounds like a dying animal, and hides his face in his hands. T’Challa can still see that the tips of his ears are red when he approaches. 

“Oh, dear heart,” T’Challa mutters, running a hand through Tony’s short hair. He kisses the top of Tony’s head when the man leans into him instinctively. “You should be used to it now.”

“I am. Kinda,” Tony mumbles into his hands. “It’s just difficult to undo decades of abuse and manipulation. Leslie says it’s normal.”

T’Challa nods at the mention of Tony’s therapist. It’s been going great, especially with Dr Thompson being professional and stern enough, but also with a funny side and a brilliant mind, that Tony could easily relate to. It also helped that when she started treating Tony and the media got wind of it, she punched the first journalist that kept pushing her to break the doctor-patient confidentiality (and a bunch of NDAs that Pepper insisted she signed). 

Tony was so impressed, that he didn’t need any encouragement to start his treatment. He tried to buy a car for Leslie, but she threatened to switch him to her colleague if he didn’t stop. 

T’Challa was and still is extremely proud of Tony for reaching for help, even if it took him some time. 

“Got a gala tonight to attend,” T’Challa says, sitting next to Tony on the bench. His boyfriend picks up the little robot that he’s been working on all night long again and is inspecting it from every side. It looks like a cube with ears. “Will probably be running late.”

“Well, that’s tragic,” Tony responds a little thoughtlessly. T’Challa can still hear the disappointment in his voice, even if the man is distracted by his work.

“Come with me?”

“Hm?” Tony looks up from the cube and rich brown eyes meet T’Challa. “Come again?”

“Come with me to the gala.”

“As who?”

“Whoever you want,” T’Challa answers. “But I’d love you to attend as my partner, my plus one.”

They haven’t been hiding their relationship, but truth to be told they didn’t try to be ‘official’ as the tabloids would say. Both T’Challa and Tony love having this only for themselves and a few very close friends, but the rest of the world doesn’t know about them.  

“You sure about it?” Tony puts down his work and focuses completely on T’Challa, who nods. “You know I don’t mind having you only for myself. Wakanda is still a little… unbalanced,” Tony winces at his chosen word, but keeps going. “Being officially tied with me might not be the best business move right now.”

“Good thing this isn’t a business thing,” T’Challa replies and grabs Tony’s hand. He presses it to his lips and holds Tony’s gaze. “I love you, Tony. Wakanda has no say in this.”

He can see that Tony wants to yank his hand away and hides his adorable, blushing face again, but he holds on. The grip is loose enough for Tony to escape if he really wanted, but T’Challa doesn’t want him to hide. 

“I love you,” he repeats and leans in for a short, sweet kiss. Tony tastes like coffee and T’Challa has been in love with this taste for years now. 

“Love you too, babe,” Tony answers, barely above a whisper. His eyes are glued to T’Challa like he expects the other man to just disappear. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“You sure? I wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want.”

“I don’t think you could even if you wanted,” Tony says softly, giving him a sincere smile. “You’re a marshmallow.”

“Only for you, my heart,” T’Challa admits and presses another kiss to Tony’s full lips. 

He deepens it and Tony’s hand finds itself in T’Challa’s hair. A gasp escapes the Prince when Tony pulls a little too much on the freed strands, and when they pull away Tony’s eyes are black with desire. 

“What time is the gala?”

T’Challa barely looks away from his lover to check the time. 

“In seven hours.”

“Wanna do something fun?” Tony asks, teasingly. “I have a bed with our names on it.”

“You certainly need some sleep, darling,” T’Challa laughs and reluctantly lets go of Tony. 

He straightens and offers his hand to Tony. 

“Shall we?”

“We shall!” Tony grabs the offered hand with enthusiasm and soon is squealing in surprise when T’Challa leans down and grabs under his knees. He scoops Tony in a bridal carry like he weighs nothing and the engineer’s arms sneak around his neck. 

“I’m sure I weigh a little more than a pack of grapes,” he grumbles into T’Challa’s skin.

“Just a little more. Maybe two packs.”

Tony hits him playfully on the chest, but T’Challa can feel him smile, as he walks toward their bedroom. They settle in a comfortable silence during the elevator ride and T’Challa doesn’t need a superhuman hearing to know that Tony’s falling asleep. 

“Just a little more,” he assures Tony in a warm whisper. The other man just hums in acknowledgment and it’s a good thing he’s already so gone on Tony, because the sudden wave of emotion that hit him, would certainly unbalance him. As he is well aware of how in love he is with Tony Stark, who’s acting like a kitten in his arms, he simply walks into the bedroom and gently puts the man under the covers. 

“I’ll be right back, my love,” he whispers tenderly while tucking him under the blanket. 

Tony lets out a little sound, something that makes T’Challa think of a sleepy newborn kitten, and unconsciously tilts his head towards T’Challa waiting for a kiss goodnight. 

T’Challa doesn’t melt at the sight, but only barely. He leans down and presses a loving kiss to Tony’s offered cheek. 

He pulls himself away reluctantly and moves towards the closet to change into something comfortable as quickly as possible to get back to his lover.