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A soft knock on the door shook you out of your daily cooking. You were making lunch for the day and for some further days. You were in your comfy apartment in which you had been for a few weeks now. Since there was a new guest at the Stark Tower in which you used to spend nights, you decided to go back to your old place because seeing Tony’s new guest was unbearable.
You wiped your hands on your apron and opened the door to find Iron Man himself on the other side. He kissed your cheek and went to sit on your living room.
“Wanna have some lunch?” You asked, going back to the pot.
“No, thanks,” he smiled, “I’ll be meeting Pepper for lunch like in an hour. What I do have is an invitation for you, actually”
“For lunch? I am already-”
“This has nothing to do with lunch, you idiot,” he laughed as he interrupted. “The thing is that I miss the old days when we all got together and drank until we ran out of both booze and sanity, and since we have made a new friend I thought that a welcoming party would be a great excuse to put on our best attitude and all that welcoming spirit that has been our characteristic… What’cha say?” Tony pouted like a little kid.
“You can’t possibly think that that Queen’s kid is allowed to drink. You know how long since I ever drank with a kid?” You untied the cute apron and left it on the hanger on the wall that split your kitchen from the living room. “Since I was his age, when I drank with my friends!” You said loudly as you sat on the ottoman in front of him.
“Peter’s not going, chill out (Y/N). He said something about having homework or having to go out with his hot aunt. Is someone else that we’re talking about, someone who actually wants to see you there,” you looked at him with a confused frown. “T’Challa wants you there,”
Since King T’Challa arrived to New York and whenever you went to visit the fantastic people you called friends, he was there with his piercing eyes and the gentleman manner. He had been around for about a year and he managed to make its way into your head and you couldn’t get him out.
You became the unusual clumsy person around him, and as if it was designed by the gods, he was always there to either catch you or whatever you were about to drop. He had found you wandering alone in the humongous building and he joined you whenever time allowed him. What you didn’t knew was that he was getting the same feeling as you did; you were like a song stuck in his mind, but one of those song you don’t want to get rid of.
You ended up saying yes because there was no use in saying no anyway. The invitation said nothing about a dress code, which you thanked with all your heart because you were not in the mood for dressing up, let alone for getting drunk with him.
Throughout the night, not a single drop of alcohol touched those beautifully plump lips, in opposition to you, that drank everything you encountered; funny enough, it was you who seemed like a teenage girl. You spent almost the whole evening talking to Natasha who assured you he had set his eyes on you and that he had feelings for you, but between alcohol and the sense of impossibility, you didn’t buy her words.
“If you could just stop embarrassing yourself, (Y/N),” the redhead scolded you, “you’d notice he’s been looking at you since the moment you said hi,”
“Shut it,” you hissed and glared at her. “He has been looking at me because I don’t know how to behave in public and near people I like… I am a mess,”
You decided to call it quits for the night at around 3 am but in your state it was completely reckless and dangerous to even walk to the parking lot. T’Challa kindly offered himself to drive you there in one of Tony’s cars that had the location of your apartment in the GPS memory. You curled your arm in his and walked with difficulty.
“Y’know,” you groggily said with a slight smile spread across your lips. They felt numb and your tongue was way too clumsy inside your mouth, “when you hold me like this, so close and tightly to that amazing and godly sculpted body of yours,” tour fingers roamed down his ridiculously tight shirt he wore that evening until you felt his leather belt in the way. By then, T’Challa was far from being just amused, he hadn’t been to a party with friends since forever, and the Avengers were as welcoming as alcohol could be, but his amusement was because of how inhibited you were with a few drinks on your body, “I swear I wanna do the nasty with ya’,” you whispered to the king’s ear and then, you giggled in your own drunken state.
“Oh, is that true?” T’Challa couldn’t help to laugh with you. “Come on (Y/N), you are beyond drunk tonight,” he conceded.
In a split second, as T’Challa was taking you back to your place, your feet tangled on the floor and you fell on your knees. You looked up to see a pair of eyes that looked you in surprise and concern, but after looking at your hands propped on the tile floor and realizing you were in all fours, a soft titter escaped from your lips until you felt it turning into a loud guffaw, making you fall to your side like dog showing its belly. You shut your eyes as the uncontrollable sound filled the small hallway before the parking lot and the Wakandian kneeled next to you to try to help you; the smile on his face was inerasable.
“What a cute smile you have, kitty cat,” you giggled like a little child as you cupped his cheek in your hand. “You’re so handsome… I wish you were... all mine…” You yawned.
He lifted you bridal style until he secured you in one of the big cars Tony had handed him so he could get you home safely. The soothing buzz of the car and the warm air soothed you to the point in which you were fast asleep.
Your head stung and the small portion of sunlight hurt your eyes. You were in the comfort and safety of your bed and when you rolled to the side to hide yourself with the pillows, you noticed your clothes were perfectly folded at the foot of your bed. You looked under the covers and saw yourself wearing an oversized shirt you kept you wept in your wardrobe.
“Holy fucking shit…” You muttered.
Then, a strong smell of coffee and music coming from the living room made you get up and find out what happened. Before confronting the stranger, you took a pit stop to the bathroom to wash your face and tie your hair in a high pony tail. You found some shorts under your pillow and went outside.
You saw a blanket neatly folded on your couch and the smell of coffee was now combined with something cooking. Pancakes. You turned to the kitchen and saw T’Challa placing the little cakes on two plates and dancing around to the rhythm of the music. He hummed in a low voice as he searched in the upper counters for some jam.
“T’Challa?” You asked in a raspy voice. He turned around and smiled widely. “I’m sorry to ask like this, but what the fuck are you doing here?”
“I brought you home safely last night,” he rose his dark eyebrow, half insulted and half confused. He looked incredibly handsome with your apron and a pan on his hand. “You were impossibly drunk and nobody wanted you to drive and you didn’t want to stay in either,” he turned around again to serve breakfast and place it on the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room. “Now, eat something. You got really wasted last night,”
He placed a mug of coffee, a plate with pancakes and a glass of orange juice in front of you and a little bowl of jam and syrup in between you two. Everything smelled and tasted delicious.
“You… changed my clothes?” You sheepishly asked, feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks.
“No, I asked if I could, but you refused and did it yourself,” he smiled. “I did help you with putting your arms through the sleeves, you fell asleep sitting in your bed; then, when you were barely conscious you asked me to sleep with you because you were… Impossibly cold,” he mocked you, “but I couldn’t, so I apologize for going through your stuff and finding myself a blanket,”
“After all you did for me, the least thing I can do is thank you for bringing me here and even making breakfast… I haven’t had one of these in ages. Thank you, T’Challa,” you looked at him and met his piercing look. You bit your bottom lip. “Hey… I kinda wanna ask you something… And I swear to god I shouldn’t, but… Did I do or say something inappropriate last night?”
“I think that’s gonna be my favorite part to tell,” he said after sipping from his coffee.
“Fuck,” you rolled your eyes.
“When we got to the elevator you started saying something about my godly body and how you loved when I held you close, then you said you wanted to do… The nasty? I think that’s how you called it,” a soft giggle escaped his lips. “Then, you fell on the floor and I’ll stop it there, cause you might get even more embarrassed…”
“No, tell me everything,” you bit your lip again.
“You said I had a pretty smile and that I was… Gorgeous and that you wanted me to be yours…”
“Shit, I’m so sorry…” You rested your head on your hands. “I was incredibly and unbearably drunk last night and I barely remember anything you just said,”
“Don’t worry (Y/N),” you bit your lip again at the sound of your name in his lips. “There is a very known saying that says that a drunk heart speaks a sober mind, and I hope this was the case,” your face couldn’t be more red even if you wanted to, “and by the way, if you haven’t noticed… I feel the same way” He said carelessly and reached out his hand; you doubted if to believe his words. “I have feelings for you, and last night I wanted to tell you, but considering the circumstances… It wasn’t the best moment. So I will ask this… After breakfast, can I kiss you?”
“Y-you can kiss me right now if you want to” You timidly smiled.
T’Challa stepped down from the stool he was sitting on and the small walk around the counter gave you the time to turn around and wait for him. Now that he was in front of you, he looked way taller and majestic than his usual self. He stood firmly in between your open legs and cupped your face with his huge hands, lovingly caressing your cheek with his thumb, he leaned forward to press his plump lips against yours.
If this was the result of a drunk night, you’d sure as hell get drunk more often.