Chapter Text
It started at a party.
Nakia had invited him because she claimed he needed to live a little and get out more, but he knew it was because her roommate had gotten sick and she needed a designated driver. He went because he still found it hard to say no to her when she asked for anything, and because their relationship had not been the same since their breakup. He figured accompanying her would set them on the right track to being comfortable with each other again.
It was a typical college party, filled to the brim with underage drinking, rap music, and a lot of people that weren’t going to remember anything they did or said the next day. It wasn’t T’Challa’s scene (even less so with him being very sober and all) but it wasn’t too bad. He and Nakia sat outside on the deck and watched people make out and play beer pong, and that was fun for a while. People stopped by to talk to him, surprised to see him here with them, exposed to all the party drugs, liquor, and rude dancing.
T’Challa wasn’t surprised that they thought he was a prude. When you’re the Dean’s son, you’re expected to behave a certain way.
After a few hours of sitting there watching a beer pong tournament that somehow turned into strip-pong, T’Challa was ready to leave. Nakia was drunk by then. She was leaning comfortably at his side and after sitting awkwardly stiff for a while, he’d placed a gentle, hesitant arm around her shoulder. He stared down at her short hair until she turned to look up at him, eyes shiny and blazing bright under the warm glow of the tiki lamps outside.
She bit her lips and grinned. He’d missed her. He missed being this close to her.
A giggle bubbled out past her lips and T’Challa was suddenly reminded that she was drunk and whatever he saw behind her eyes were due to the liquid happiness she had been indulging in all night. He looked away from her, retreating from the moment.
When he turned back to the game, new challengers had made their way to the table. T’Challa recognized the new competitors as a few members of the football team that was going against a few members of the basketball team. The stripping rules stayed intact and the football team had lost, much to the delight of the women in attendance, especially Nakia who had perked up in interest when Sam Wilson pulled off his jeans. That was T’Challa’s sign that it was time to take her home.
As he was shifting to get up, however, a shadow fell over him and it made him take pause. He looked up slowly, eyes lifting past a bare chest until it settled on someone’s face. Someone T’Challa knew from around campus.
“Sup, Nakia?” the guy standing above them asked with a grin on his face. His thick arms were folded across his broad chest and T’Challa tried not to stare, but he and his chest were right there.
“Erik,” Nakia replied, sounding suddenly sober. She sat up straighter and narrowed her eyes, but her hostility only made the other man laugh.
“Looks like you enjoyin’ the party,” Erik said, voice laced with mockery. “Never expected to see Miss Young Entrepreneurs sloppy drunk.” He then turned to T’Challa. “And the Dean’s son. What, yall doin’ some kinda ‘good kids gone bad’ shit?”
There were a few chuckles from the guys behind them and T’Challa ignored them in favor of failing to hold his tongue. “Maybe if you concentrated more on your game than on Nakia and I, you would have won.”
Erik smirked, then scoffed. “Hey, I was playin’ to lose anyway. I’m givin’ the ladies a show.”
“That loss was on purpose?” T’Challa asked with a smile. “You probably should have made it less humiliating, then.”
Erik’s smirk widened into a sharp grin, and ok, T’Challa had to admit to himself then and there that this guy was attractive. Erik wasn’t what he would usually be into, but he was still a looker.
One of Erik’s buddies tossed him his discarded t-shirt and he slung it around his neck like a rag before inviting himself to sit with Nakia and T’Challa. He sat down next to Nakia and ignored the way she glared at him.
“What yall drinkin’?” He asked as if he was talking to friends and not two people who were obviously not.
“I’m driving,” T’Challa said, his voice curt.
“I’ve had enough, thank you.” Nakia replied sharply. T’Challa was a little surprised by her attitude. Nakia was usually very friendly, but she took no shit, which he loved. But he’d never seen her behave this way towards someone. Obviously, this Erik had angered her before. She’d never told him about it, so T’Challa made a mental note to ask her about it later.
“How yall gon come to my party and give me the cold shoulder?” Erik asked as he shook his head as in disbelief. “Why are yall even here?”
“Are we not allowed to have fun?” T’Challa asked.
“Daddy know you here?”
“I’m a grown man who is fully capable of stepping out without my father’s knowledge or permission.”
Erik looked at him as if he didn’t believe him, but he didn’t challenge T’Challa further. Instead, he turned his attentions back to Nakia who stood up (with some difficulty) and put her small clutch in T’Challa’s lap.
“I’ll be back,” She said as she wobbled a little on her heels. She regained her composure quickly, however, and ran her hands over her top, smoothing out the creases. “Hopefully, our company will be gone when I return.” Before Erik or T’Challa could reply, she left.
T’Challa watched her walk away with wobbly grace, then he turned to look at Erik who was leering at Nakia’s ass as she made her way through the crowd.
“Damn,” Erik hissed as he tilted his head to the side in a comical way that would have made T’Challa laugh if his annoyance levels weren’t about to hit its peak. “Feisty and fine, just like I like ‘em. That ass is-”
“It would be wise to choose your next words carefully,” T’Challa interrupted as he leveled a serious look at Erik.
Erik turned to look at him with a challenging expression that stated, ‘I can say what I want and what the fuck exactly are you going to do about it?’ T’Challa didn’t back down and the moment became tense. Eventually, Erik eased back and smirked while shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about me steppin’ in your territory. She fine, but I’m not interested.”
“She is not my territory,” T’Challa said. His voice was neutral again, but he remained on edge just in case Erik decided to say anymore disrespectful shit out of his mouth about Nakia.
Erik cocked his head. “You were about to fight me and you not even hittin’ that?”
T’Challa rolled his eyes and, for a second, debated replying but Erik got up before he could say anything.
“Whatever, Mr. White Knight.” The other man said as he got up and stretched. His muscles rippled under his skin and T’Challa definitely stared again. It was hard not to. Erik was in spectacular shape and even though T’Challa was usually a personality person, he still knew how to appreciate a nice sight.
Unfortunately, he appreciated just a few seconds too long and when he looked up to Erik’s face again, he could see the other man giving him a slightly confused expression before his smirk came back in full swing. T’Challa wasn’t one to feel shame easily, but he felt a quick, sharp sense of embarrassment at being caught. The uncomfortable feeling, however, went away when instead of mocking him for gawking, Erik actually seemed flattered.
Well, that wasn’t what T’Challa expected, but considering the alternative reactions, he was thankful. The last thing he needed was for his Baba to hear rumors of his son perversely checking out another man at an off-campus weed and liquor fueled party.
“So, this what you and Nakia been doin’ over here? Just takin’ in the eye-candy?” Erik asked. His voice had taken on a deeper, more seductive tone and T’Challa wondered if this was the voice he used on women. “If you wanted to see the goods, you could’ve just asked.”
“Is that all it takes? A small request to get you out of your clothes?”
Erik shrugged - cocky, sure of himself, and seemingly unbothered by T’Challa’s insinuation that he was easy. “Depends on who’s making the request, you feel me?”
If T’Challa had any doubts that Erik was now flirting with him, that statement paired with his expression spelled out clearly that he was. It was a little surreal since another man, especially one like Erik, had never flirted with him like that; out in the open and unabashed.
T’Challa bit his lip to hide his smile.
“Wonderful, he is still here.” Nakia deadpanned on arrival as she walked past Erik to stand in front of T’Challa. “Are you ready or do you want to stay for a bit longer?”
“I’m ready,” T’Challa said only after sparing Erik a last look.
“Nakia, check that stank attitude of yours,” Erik said as he ran a hand through his dreads. “T’Challa, next time you show up to my party, you better be drinkin'.”
T’Challa stood up and handed Nakia her clutch. He regarded Erik slowly, not missing the way the other man was checking him out. He wasn’t even being subtle or trying to hide it.
“Goodnight, Erik.” Was all he said before he linked arms with Nakia and led her towards the exit. As he walked away, he had an urge to look back to see if Erik was still watching. He chanced a glance back to see that he was indeed still starting at him, his gaze a little heated and playful when they made eye contact again.
“I have never disliked anybody more than that man.” Nakia grumbled, just as T’Challa looked away from Erik. “He is disrespectful, rude, and spoiled. Just like his other footballer friends.”
“Come on, Nakia.” T’Challa chided. “He cannot be that bad.”
“You’ve never had to deal with him,” Nakia fussed. “He was in my group last semester in Sociology. He almost ruined my GPA.”
T’Challa smiled to himself as Nakia drunkenly ranted on about how Erik Stevens was the literal worst. He debated telling her about the way Erik had flirted with him, but ultimately, he decided to keep that piece of information to himself for now.