Bucky was exhausted. The bed, normally too soft, welcomed him like a lover's arms. He fell into its embrace without a second thought, pausing only to shed his shoes and clothing before he flopped into the pillows.
There had been hours of conversation, hours of shouting and arguing and even a few tears. Bucky had watched it all, only contributing where was absolutely necessary. Like sitting in on a family spat, he felt very much the outsider as Tony and Steve railed back and forth between one another, compromising and fighting in turn. T'Challa and his sister had been present, but mostly silent, content to allow the Avengers to work out what they needed to.
Their bonds ran deep, as did the hurt of having betrayed one another. Bucky felt his sympathies turn to each one of them as the day pressed into night. There were points where forgiveness seemed impossible as they slung accusations in each other's faces. Even Steve had begun shouting at some point.
The night had concluded only when T'Challa intervened, politely demanding that each party sleep on their argument and begin again the next day. So the Avengers reluctantly adjourned, each retreating to their own respective corner.
Bucky lay face down in his pillow, breathing in the smell of the linen. He felt drained, exhausted in a way he wasn't used to. Resisting the words had cost him more effort that he was willing to admit to Stark. It was all he could do to stay on his feet. It had been the first time he had truly defeated them and there was no one there to share his victory. He would not tell Steve, not yet. He knew his friend would use the incident as more leverage against his former comrade. Bucky would not contribute to anymore fighting between the two of them.
He rolled over with great difficulty, relishing in the feel of the Egyptian cotton against his skin. It was delightful to feel the warmth around him, almost like being at home. It was clear now that they're days in Wakanda were drawing to a close, for better or worse. He knew that Steve and the team would not be willing to leave until Klaue was in hand. He secretly hoped that it would be months before they caught him.
A quiet tapping on his balcony door drew Bucky's attention. He craned his head until he could see the dark silhouette of a visitor. Wishing he had the gift of telekinesis , Bucky sighed and got up.
"I am sorry to bother you. I thought perhaps you would have left the door unlocked," Shuri said by way of apology as he stepped aside to let her in.
"I didn't want to make it too easy for Stark," Bucky explained, trying to sound casual and not at all as tired as he felt.
"If he tries to leave his room tonight, he will face the Dora Malaje," Shuri responded. She was dressed for bed, for once unpolished, clad in silk pajama pants and a flowing shirt in her favorite color. Her hair was twisted back into two large plaits, the ends dusting down her back. She looked less a princess and more of a girl her age. Bucky found himself smiling.
"Nice, PJs," he complimented.
"It is not what I normally sleep in," she said, "in the interest of keeping things platonic, I thought I better add more layers. Though, perhaps I should not have worried about it." She took in his boxer-clad appearance.
Bucky's imagination woke up at once, running through the possibilities of how the woman in front of him might sleep. Shuri smirked at him, sitting down on the bed.
"It has been an eventful night," she said quietly.
Bucky sat down next to her, pulling his mind out of the gutter with great effort.
"I'm pretty tired," he admitted. "Stark used the words," he told her, acutely aware of how naked he seemed in comparison to her.
"I thought he might," Shuri said. "How long did you hold out?"
"Through all of them," he tried to keep the pride in his voice to a minimum, but he had been bursting to tell her.
Her face split into a wide grin, the biggest smile he had ever seen grace her face over the last few months.
"You have never managed that before," Shuri was doing nothing to mask her glee. "What do you think has changed?"
Bucky scooted closer to her, until her silk covered leg was pressed into his bare thigh. "Part of me thinks it was pure spite. I couldn't let him beat me," he told her. She nodded thoughtfully. "But I've been thinking about it, and maybe I just had something to prove to him."
Shuri reached for his hand, running her thumb over the surface. "Do you think you will be able to do it again?"
"I've already done it once. That was the biggest hurdle. Now I know I can do it." He flipped his hand over and laced their fingers together.
"Then I suppose my work here is done."
"I don't know about that," he nudged her. "I didn't mind spending my mornings with you."
"The feeling is quite mutual," she assured him. "Though, it may be that those days are numbered."
"Maybe," he admitted, his stomach sinking. The goal of this had always been to rehabilitate him, to get him back into the world. She was supposed to make him back into a hero. She had done her job, along with Sam and Steve and Sharon and T'Challa. The real world was calling now.
"You must miss home," she said gently.
"I barely remember it," he turned to look at her. "This feels like home now."
She smiled. "You are always welcome here. I am afraid though, that we both have miles to go before retirement."
"Are you always right?" he sighed, pulling her hand into his lap.
She laughed. "Ask my brother. T'Challa will be quick to inform you of all of the times I have been wrong."
"What if I want you along with me, for those miles?" he wanted to pull her into his lap, but he wasn't sure how she would take it. Shuri could be incredibly pragmatic when she wanted to be.
"You may find a woman back home who suits your needs better," she said matter-of-factly.
"I've dated women back home. I can't imagine they've changed much." He moved even closer, until their sides were flush against one another.
"What about your team?" she questioned.
"I'll still be a part of it," he assured her. "You'll still be a royal and a Black Panther. I'll be the Winter Soldier. But together, we can just be Shuri and Bucky," it sounded so corny coming out of his mouth that he mentally kicked himself. If Shuri noticed, she did not critique him.
"Maintaining a relationship and being a hero is a tall order," she mused.
"Steve manages," Bucky pointed out. "Plus, there's no better time to shape the rules. Tony Stark wants the Avengers back. Why not go international?"
"You can be quite persuasive. Why did you not raise this point during tonight's discussions?" she asked him.
Bucky paused. "I wanted to talk to you about it first. The idea wouldn't hold much weight coming from me. I'm not an Avenger. I still have to prove myself. But you and your brother…"
"You underestimate your relationship with your team," Shuri said, not unkindly.
"It's not my team I'm worried about," he admitted.
"Stark has more forgiveness in his heart than I believe even he knows. I think the next few days will prove to be quite fruitful." Shuri shifted her body, bringing her legs up and onto the bed. She stretched them out across his lap. He ran his hands over the silk absentmindedly, comparing the feeling in both of his hands. There was something about the contact of skin on skin that his arm could not replicate, no matter the technology.
Shuri sighed, leaning backwards across the bed until she was practically lying in his lap. "Is this what you really want?"
Bucky looked down at her. She was staring back up at him in the way that she always did. He gently removed her feet from his lap and scooted backwards. She watched him with interest as he lay down next to her.
"I don't get the feeling that people get a lot of second chances in life," he told her. "I have this shot to make things right, to get better. I want the people around me that matter. And you matter very much." He told her, determined to hold her unwavering eye contact.
"We have only known one another for a few months," she pointed out.
"I'm almost 100 years old," he told her. "I think I can tell when I've met a good one." Acting on instinct, he leaned forward until his lips were just touching hers. It took almost as much self-control as defeating his triggers words to keep from deepening the kiss.
Shuri reached for him, dragging her hand across his bare vibranium arm up to the seam between his shoulder and pectoral where his skin began again. Her hand came to rest on the back of his head. She threaded her fingers in his shoulder length hair, twisting the tendrils around.
"You make quite the argument," she whispered against his mouth.
"It's worth arguing about," he told her.
She pressed into him all at once, her kiss as urgent and fierce as it had been the day before. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, flattening her chest into his. Bucky had been in positions like this before, of that he was absolutely sure. The memories were so fuzzy though that this felt completely new. He wondered if you were supposed to get permission before you touched a princess, but quickly pushed the notion out of his mind when Shuri guided his hands to her waist. She wrapped her leg over his, setting his blood pumping.
"I thought you wanted to take it slow?" he managed to get out in between kisses.
"I thought you were tired," she countered as he gripped her around the back of her thighs.
"I'm awake now," he assured her.
"Slow has never been my style," she assured him. She sat up just enough to push him backwards against the bed. Bucky's back hit the mattress as she climbed on top of him.
He tried to play it cool as she straddled his hips, but he was sure his heart was beating so fast that she could hear it. He was praying desperately that he still remembered how to do this. Shuri seemed to have no reservations about the direction they were going. She guided his hands beneath the cool fabric of her shirt as she leaned forward once again to kiss him. Bucky was conscious of the strength of his metal hand and tried to remain gentle. His self-control was teetering dangerously. He knew that they both should be resting up for tomorrow. He knew that entering a relationship at this point in his life might not be practical. But he also knew that he had spent years and years on ice, and right now he felt alive. The sensation of it all burned through his limbs like fire.
He pushed the practical aside. He might never have the chance again. He sat up, dragging Shuri into his lap. She responded eagerly adjusting her legs so that they gripped him in a vice, wrapping herself tightly around him. He flattened his hands up her back, relishing in the shiver that went through her body. Her arms left his shoulders for the briefest of moments as she tugged her pajama shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Bucky chuckled, remembering the reason why she chose to wear them in the first place.
"What is so funny?" she asked curiously, her eyes almost glowing in the dark.
Bucky smiled, leaning forward to brush kisses down her neck. "Nothing, princess. I'm just happy."
She smirked, loosening her hair from its dark braids. Bucky had never seen so much hair in his entire life. It fell in endless layers around her head, soft and wild and uniquely hers. He buried his hands in it, grinning as she closed her eyes in delight, like a cat being petted. She stretched backwards, arching her back and dragging them both down until their positions were reversed. When she reached for the hem of his boxers, he nearly blacked out.
"Would you like to dance with me?" she asked coyly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.
"Hell yes," his answer was instantaneous.
Despite his eagerness, he waited for Shuri to make the first move. She made short work of the rest of their clothing, leaving the two of them lying naked next to one another on the bed. Some realization hit them both and they stared at each other, Bucky nervously awaiting what came next. This intimacy was new to him, and he was teetering on the edge of panic. The last few decades of his life, laying naked on a bed involved torture. All of the pleasure of being touched had been drained from him, one scalpel at a time. He felt his body tensing involuntarily, bracing himself for pain. Shuri watched him calmly through her large brown eyes. She reached for him slowly, a small smile on her full lips.
"May I?" she asked clearly, her hands just inches from his arms.
Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath. He wanted this, but he was struggling. The princess began at his hands, her fingers dancing patterns across them, softly at first, then increasing the pressure. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, focusing on the sensations her hands were causing. Upwards they climbed, over his forearms and biceps to the tops of his shoulders. She applied even more pressure, massaging until his muscles began to relax. Shuri began to hum, a deep throaty sound, as calming a a lullaby.
Bucky opened his eyes to study her face. She was completely focused on the task at hand with the single minded purpose with which she trained for battle. Over and over she kneaded patterns into his skin, moving with the rhythm of her hummed song. Bucky took in her face, from the high, regal forehead, the large almond shaped eyes, the way her nose tempered down and flared at the bottom, her lips plump and full with their little heart shaped pout. Tentatively, he reached out with his vibranium hand, tracing the shape of her features.
Shuri pulled herself closer to him, her cool dark skin pressing against his. Bucky took another deep breath. When he did not tense up, she moved her hands down, across his chest this time, to his waist. He mirrored her motions, grasping her bottom with both hands. She let out a soft little gasp that got his blood pumping hot again. He dragged her even closer and she parted her legs, tangling them around him.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"Pretty damn good," he moved his hips against hers, earning another gasp. He was glad that the two of them were nearly of equal height; he could watch her without having to maneuver too much. He snuck his hand down between them, relishing in the sight of the pleasure on her face. She gasped his name into his ear, her head thrown against his shoulder as he increased the pressure. She squirmed against him, her control beginning to splinter. She reached out and grasped him tightly and Bucky felt a long forgotten desire roar back to life.
"Are you ready?" it was less of a question and more of a plea. He kissed her hard.
"It's been a while," he reminded her. It embarrassed him to even have to bring it up, but Shuri only smiled.
"We have some time to figure it out," she assured him, pulling him on top of her.
It was hours later when they finally drifted to sleep, Shuri naked and glistening on top of him. Her head rested just beneath his chin, her hair slightly damp with perspiration. Bucky was completely spent, but loathe to allow himself to sleep. The weight of her on top of him was comfortable, and it surprised him how quickly he could get used to it. Her breathing tickled his skin as it danced across his bare chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He was pleased that she was worn out; apparently there were some skills he had not forgotten.
Shuri acted like a shield, a barrier between himself and the responsibility lurking just outside of the bedroom door. He knew at some point they would have to wake up, return to their respective duties. For now though, he gripped her tighter, giving into sleep just as the sky outside began to lighten.
The world could wait a few more hours.
A/N: I went back and added more to this chapter. I wasn't completely satisfied with it. Happy Independence Day to my fellow Americans, and to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites or follows this story, thank you very much! Please continue to leave your feedback!