Avengers: My Stony Superfamily

T'Chucky Smut

*

T'Challa hates for Bucky to wake up alone, sometimes disoriented. He likes to be there to remind Bucky of the date and time if he needs it. But he's got an early meeting with Wakandan delegates, scheduled earlier than he'd like.

But Bucky liked to sleep in, a habit he'd unfortunately picked up from T'Challa. Bucky had called him a lazy cat, all long limbs and cuddles in bed long after the sun came up.

He'd taken to calling T'Challa 'kitten' too, which he didn't mind. But Bucky began doing it in mixed company, eliciting teasing that he knew he'd never been able to live down.

"Salut, pisoi," Bucky had tried instead.

T'Challa looked up from his paperwork. "Hello...?"

Bucky grinned, a look T'Challa would never get tired of seeing on his face. "Kitten."

"Alright," T'Challa had accepted begrudgingly. "Come give me a kiss?"

In an instant, T'Challa had a lap full of supersoldier.

But the new nickname had come with Bucky adopting his habits, and now it was a struggle to get him down for breakfast while it was still morning.

Bucky is gorgeous in the early morning light, and as T'Challa leaves him a sticky note with today's date and and a scribbled 'I love you', he thinks about how lucky he is.

Oh.

For all Bucky says about not being brave, he's a martyr if T'Challa ever knew one. He said all the time that he didn't deserve T'Challa. What if he really meant it?

When he arrives home to find Bucky in the living room, T'Challa decided to pounce. If he doesn't cut to the chase, he'll never get an answer out of Bucky.

"Bucky, why won't you have sex with me?" T'Challa blurts. "I'm cool if you aren't ready - but you keep saying you are. I'm not mad, but...if you don't want me then just say so."

His eyes widen. "No, 'Challa. I want you. More than anything. I've never wanted anything or anyone like I want you. And I'm ready."

T'Challa sits down on the sofa. "Then what is it, Buck," he says softly.

Bucky looks as if he's searching for the right words. "I want you, T'Challa. And I know you want me. But the thing is, you shouldn't."

"And why is that?" T'Challa asks calmly.

"Because don't deserve you. I - I shouldn't be able to touch you. But I want it so bad, want you so bad that I do it anyway." Bucky's face is as open as T'Challa has ever seen it, and he just wants to take him into his arms.

T'Challa snorts, though this is far from comical. "You shouldn't think of yourself like that," he says quietly. "What, do you think you're going to taint me or something?"

Bucky nods.

He moves from his spot on the couch to where Bucky stands in the middle the room, T'Challa's arms wrapping around his body.

"You're no angel, Buck. Neither am I. But you're good. Too good for me," he breathes into Bucky's shoulder.

"And that's saying something, right?" Bucky teases, but T'Challa can feel him subtly wiping at his eyes.

T'Challa nods. "You may think that your hands are just meant for throwing a punch or pulling a trigger. But they're meant for more. You're meant for more."

He pulls away from Bucky, kissing away the remaining tears that fell of their own accord.

"You're meant for me, Buck."