Chapter Text
This was the first time since they'd met that Tony had ever seen Steve look so dumbstruck. The open-mouthed expression was comical, in a way, and Tony made sure to commit the look to memory (if only because he was certain that Rhodey and Pepper would want to hear all about it) before he walked past Steve and into the castle. He'd gotten all the way down the hall and rounded a corner - one of the maids actually bowed to him before pointing to a door about ten feet ahead, which was weird for reasons Tony was not wholly prepared to think about yet - before he heard footsteps behind him, and he allowed himself a small smile before schooling his expression. It was gratifying to see Steve be so knocked off-kilter for once.
"Wait, Tony. What did you say?" Steve demanded, catching up with him easily. "T'Challa's your soulmate?"
Because it was Steve, he was making exactly zero effort to keep his voice down. So that was how Tony saw all of the other Avengers again after weeks of no contact: standing in a doorway with everyone staring while Steve had a little fit beside him. Tony looked around the room, taking them all in, deliberately dragging out his response. Scott and Sam were sharing the couch and a bowl of popcorn. Clint was sitting on the windowsill. Natasha was, interestingly enough, sitting on the other couch beside Wanda. Vision was standing behind them; he alone smiled at Tony.
"Who's your what now?" Clint said, looking perplexed.
"Not that it's any of your business," Tony said, shoving his hands in his pockets. It was one of the few lessons that Stane had pounded into him that he actually appreciated: crossing your arms looked defensive, but your hands in your pockets made you look like you didn't care. There was no other image that Tony wanted to give off more than that right now.
"Tony," Natasha said. She was giving him a very familiar look - one that said she was only a few seconds away from making him talk. At one time, that look had been simultaneously terrifying and endearing, strange a combination as that was. But right now, it only served to make Tony angry.
And that was.... unexpected. Refreshing. Part of the reason he'd been so apprehensive about coming here was because he was worried about what would happen when he saw the team again. Not just their reaction - though he was prepared for outright hostility at best and another attempt on his life at worst - but whether or not he would be able to stand up to them. Because he still loved them, all of them, Clint and Steve and Natasha, the teammates he'd fought beside and lived with for over two years, and he'd missed them in spite of everything. He couldn't just turn those emotions off no matter how hard he tried.
Right now, though, Tony was getting angry and, better yet, he was clear-headed in his anger. He didn't like the way that Steve and Natasha seemed to think they could pretend nothing had happened, or that they could still talk to him and treat him like he'd been away on a business trip. Like Tony owed them both something, when as far as he was concerned, it was definitely the other way around. Even putting aside the tangle of the accords and Siberia, Tony was the one who'd been dealing with the press, Ross, 117 very pissed off countries, and the nervous Stark Industries investors. He was the one who'd been under fire every damn day, not sitting out in the sun drinking cocktails and getting a tan.
"T'Challa is my soulmate," Tony announced to the room at large. Since the maid had bowed to him, it was probably old news to the rest of Wakanda by now. Frankly, it was a miracle that the team didn't know. It had to have been deliberately kept from them. He wondered who had engineered that, and looked up in time to see Vision wink at him.
"You?" Clint said, somehow managing to convey shock, disbelief and pity all in that one word.
"Yes, me," Tony said, trying not to sound as insulted as he felt. "That's why I'm here, so that I can see Wakanda and get to know what it's like." He clenched his hands in his pockets.
Clint snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Poor T'Challa".
"That's great, Tony," Steve said, shooting Clint a glare. "Not what I was expecting, but he'll be good for you."
Tony bristled. "I'm just fine by myself. I don't need someone to be good for me, Steve," he snapped. "There's nothing wrong with me." The words tasted unfamiliar on his lips, because god knew Tony had thought and said the exact opposite dozens of times. But the implications of Steve's statement stung. He didn't need T'Challa to keep him on the road to the straight and narrow, or whatever garbage was going through Steve's head right now.
"That's not what I meant," Steve said with a sigh. "I just meant that -"
"Hang on, does this mean you're like the queen of Wakanda?" Scott asked suddenly.
He'd come to that conclusion much faster than Tony had. Tony eyed him, begrudgingly respectful, and nodded. "I guess so, though queen isn't the word I would use, since last time I checked I had a dick."
Clint looked a little like he was having an aneurism. Even Natasha and Steve appeared gob-smacked. Clearly, the two of them hadn't put two and two together yet either. That made Tony feel a little better. He swept his gaze over Wanda and Sam, since both of them had been silent so far. Sam was sitting back on the couch, arms folded. He met Tony's gaze without saying a word. Wanda wouldn't even look at him, and truth be told Tony was okay with that. He hadn't forgotten the sickly feeling of her magic inside his head, though he'd never let that stand between helping her out before, and he was hoping she'd continue to keep her distance.
"Lucky Wakanda," Clint said finally, though the quip didn't have nearly the sarcastic impact it should have, because immediately following it came T'Challa's smooth voice.
"I wholeheartedly agree, Barton. Wakanda is extraordinarily lucky."
Tony turned his head just in time to see T'Challa coming to a stop beside him. He pressed a hand to the small of Tony's back, a movement which was hidden from anyone else by the way their bodies were angled. That one touch made the last of Tony's nerves drain away, and he shot T'Challa a small smile of gratitude. By contract, T'Challa's answering smile was enormous. He beamed proudly at Tony for several seconds before looking away, his smile fading to something more stern as he looked Steve, Natasha, Clint, Scott, Sam and Wanda in the face in turn.
"I am very proud to have Tony as my soulmate. I can't think of anyone who would do better at my side than he will, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from insulting Wakanda's Royal Consort under our roof."
Clint just sat there and stared, mouthing the words 'Wakanda's Royal Consort' to himself repeatedly.
Natasha said, darting a quick look at Clint, "He apologizes."
"I'm sure," Tony muttered, subtly leaning into T'Challa's warmth. He could've done this on his own. It would've been hard, and he might've walked away shaking at the end of it, but he'd done harder things in his lifetime. But he was starting to realize that the whole point of having a soulmate was that he didn't have to. T'Challa was there to support him because he wanted to be there, simple as that, and that made all the difference in the world.
"Tony, please don't make this difficult," Steve said, and he had the gall to give Tony the infamous disappointed face. Tony couldn't take that quietly.
"You're telling me not to make this difficult?" he snapped. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"Tony -"
"No. Just stop right there, Steve. I don't really want to hear it."
"What, you think you're too good for us now that you're a 'Royal Consort'?" Clint said, and Tony could practically hear the quotation marks around those two words. T'Challa bristled.
"You would do well to watch how you speak to my soulmate," he said very coldly. "You are here because of my invitation, but there are several people who have already told me that they're not pleased about your presence. I've allayed their concerns thus far, but I strongly suggest that you keep in mind that I can rescind that invitation at any point in time and you would be immediately escorted beyond our borders. And frankly speaking, I've been meaning to talk to you all about this for some time now."
"About what?" Sam asked, speaking for the first time since Tony had walked into the room.
"I am setting conditions on your amnesty," T'Challa announced. "In order for you to remain in Wakanda, you need to step up into the public arena so that Tony isn't taking the full brunt of the legal consequences and political backlash."
"You can't order us to do that," Steve said.
"No, I can't. But like I said, I can make it a condition that you have to follow through on in order for you to remain here. So far, Tony has been the one under the spotlight, deflecting every blow that comes towards the Avengers. I do not believe that is fair. You all had a part in this, and it's time you all shared in the consequences."
"But it was all his fault!" Clint exclaimed, outraged. "He should be taking the brunt of it!"
Steve held up a hand, forestalling any other objections. "It's fine," he said suddenly. "You're right, your highness. I'd be happy to do my fair share of explaining what happened. People should know that Bucky was innocent, and that the accords were the government's way of trying to unnecessarily control us." He glanced at Tony. "They should know that I haven't let them down."
"You mean like I did," Tony said, fury and grief burning bright in his chest. That was almost word for word from that stupid letter.
"I didn't say that."
"It's what you meant. Fuck you, Rogers."
"Tony!"
"Enough," T'Challa growled. "You are speaking to the co-ruler of the country that is currently offering you shelter, Captain. I suggest you learn some manners, and quickly." His eyes were dark with anger. "Shuri will work out the details with you. She has been in close contact with Ms. Potts and Ms. Carter, and they are preparing things in the U.S."
"Sharon?" Steve said, deflating so fast it wasn't funny, his eyes wide.
"Yes. She was most anxious to help, given that she and Tony have been as close as siblings for years," T'Challa said, his expression going soft when he looked at Tony. "You should think carefully about what you plan to say. I will not take lightly to anything that further tarnishes my soulmate's reputation, particularly when those things are a matter of opinion and are not necessarily the truth. I would hate to go back on my word and turn all of you out, but for Tony's sake I will not hesitate to do so." His glance back at Steve was pure ice. "And I do mean all of you."
Steve took a step back, turning white, and T'Challa took the opportunity to usher a speechless Tony away. Tony let him do it, mostly because he was torn between shock at what had just transpired and absorbing the look on Steve's face. They continued down several hallways in silence, and T'Challa made sure that they were several rooms away from the rest of the team and any prying ears that might overhear their conversation before he let Tony stop. Immediately, Tony swung around to face him.
"Why would you say that?" he demanded. "You didn't have to do that, T'Challa. It's fine. I'm fine."
"You are not fine, Kitten. You're exhausted. You're overwhelmed." T'Challa cupped his face, looking deeply into Tony's eyes. "And I said it because I love you."
Tony froze. "What?"
"I love you. I love you, and I hate the way they treat you, because you deserve so much better. I can only wish that someday, I'll be able to make you believe that too."
This time, it was Tony's mouth that hung open. He stared at T'Challa, hardly able to believe what he'd just heard. Sure, he'd thought to himself several times now that he might love T'Challa. But it had never once occurred to him that T'Challa could be feeling the same way, much less that T'Challa would come right out with it so soon. They'd only been together for just over a month, and, in Tony's (admittedly limited) experience, that usually didn't happen. But there was no denying the sincerity in T'Challa's eyes right now.
"T'Challa, I..." His throat closed up. It was too much.
"You don't have to say anything. I didn't say it so that you would say it back," T'Challa said gently. "I just wanted you to know that I would stand beside you before anyone else."
Tony swallowed hard and put a hand to T'Challa's chest, feeling the beat of that heart. "T'Challa... I... me too." He leaned in, because this moment felt right, and it never even occurred to him to think that T'Challa might pull away or stop him.
And T'Challa didn't. One of his hands slid around to the back of Tony's head and pulled him in, letting their lips meet in the middle.
The final step in their courtship.
Or not, Tony realized, pulling back and matching the smile on T'Challa's face with one of his own. Just the beginning.