ok but like....u know that iconic scene where T'Challa's jewelry and Bucky's arm do that weird repellent thingy...ok so imagine that in reverse. Some time after Civil War, they get stuck together until they figure out how to reverse it. Gotta use the bathroom together. Constantly fighting where to go eat. Being next to each other 24 hours a day and witnessing each other at their lowest. ✨✨💦💦 Awkward Showering together 💦💦✨✨AWKWARD "R U GOING TO HANDLE THAT" MORNING WOOD ✨✨✨ (ok trash OUT)
Lmaoo all right ik this was prolly meant to be crackish or wahatever but i kinda got into it and since it’s prolly gonna be a little ont he longer side, I thought I’d drop a lil bitta it here :)
Misery and T'Challa had never been strangers, but the past few days had brought them closer than ever. And worst of all brought along Bucky Barnes for the duration of it.
This was all Mordo’s fault.
He’d done it in the split second that Bucky had walked into the library where they had been talking — finally talking, if a little heatedly, for the first time since Mordo had come to Wakanda, misty-eyed and tight-lipped — and the only reason that T'Challa had ever gotten distracted in the first place was because…
Well, because it was Bucky. When he charged into the library, it was to grab T'Challa around the wrist, his grip so gentle, yet acutely searching, that it perched heavy at the top of his mind; commanded his attention.
Even worse — or better; he couldn’t tell the difference anymore — it had been Bucky’s left hand, the metal one. Smooth adamantium fingers formed a ring of chill around T'Challa’s wrist where his bracelet dug into his skin under the touch.
And they looked into each other’s eyes, Bucky’s a little wide with apprehension, the sternness of his face asking, “Are you okay?”
But why? T'Challa and Bucky… They didn’t do this. They didn’t even really talk to each other all that much outside of the darkest, coldest nights they spent together; frantic, breathless hours that never lingered past dawn; and few and far between, at best.
In that moment of hesitation, though, when all T'Challa could see was Bucky looking straight into him, Mordo had dipped out, and T'Challa hadn’t heard from him since.
It wouldn’t have even been that bad if, before he left, Mordo hadn’t conjured a brightly sparking metaphysical cage around where they were joined, which they only even noticed after they tried to pull away from each other as if the prolonged contact was too much to sustain for so long.
All it had taken was a second or two for T'Challa’s whole life to change (and, really, that was nothing new to him; at least everyone was still whole and breathing).