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T'Challa can’t breathe. Every noise he makes feels like a gunshot and he literally can’t breath. Except he can he’s just scared out of his mind because he was dumb enough to let Erik pull him into this closet with their family and relatives less than 30 feet away. He should have known where this would go when Erik looked his way 20 minutes ago during the dullest game of spades he’s ever played. Someone walks past the closet and T'Challa holds his breath. Behind him Erik chuckles and T'Challa wants to reach back and smack him. But the logistics of their current position, his back is pressed right up Erik’s front, hands trapped at his sides and his front right up against the wall. Occasionally the handle of a broom digs into his shoulder.
Erik has a hand on T’Challa’s ass and the other on his dick no doubt. T'Challa whimpers through grit teeth and tries to relax. The faster Erik came, the faster this would end, and the less chance of them getting caught.
“Come on T'Challa just relax, they won’t hear us ...” Erik moves his hand up to touch T'Challa's shoulder. “I mean, imagine if they did though...you’d be in so much trouble...you trembling on my dick in a tight ass closet with your family in the house..the shame..”
"Shut up." T'Challa mumbles. They would both be in trouble if they were ever caught. He presses back impatiently on Erik. He knows the alpha can smell him, he's wet enough for Erik to put it in. But Erik is stalling for some reason.
“Are you trying to grind or are you being greedy for my dick?” Erik inhales, pushing his face into T’Challa’s neck. “you smell good, you know? I still hate you though, you’re annoying and walk around with a nice ass.” He pinched T'Challa's left ass cheek. Enough pressure to make it tender afterwards.
T'Challa's breath catches in his throat and he swallows a yelp. They had to be quiet, they *had* to be quiet. Instead of responding with words, he ignores the handle digging into his side and leans up a bit, lining up his hole a little more to where Erik's dick is. The act itself is as efficient as he can make it, he’s annoyed that Erik is *making* him do this part of the work. He was the one that pulled them into the closet, and now he was playing hard to get.
Erik hisses and sucks on a piece a skin on T'Challa's neck. “Tell me if me not fucking you is an issue you have right now. Tell me you want me to fuck you...and I’ll do it.”
T'Challa hates this game. "Please fuck me, please please please." Before someone came to investigate the sounds they were making and—
“...Now that wasn’t so hard.” Erik grinds against T’Challa, then he’s lining his cock and pushing in.
T’Challa realizes only belatedly after Erik presses inside they hadn’t used a condom. Probably because neither of them actually planned to fuck in the closet.
T'Challa moans quietly. He hates Erik. His younger cousin played too much. This is what he gets for fucking a 15 year old. His 15 year old cousin, god he was sick. He has to cover his mouth when Erik starts to slide out.
“Oooo someone’s covering their mouth...I must feel great...do I feel good T’Challa?” He increases the pace a little, and pressed his hand in the small of T'Challa's back making him arch a little more.
T'Challa gives up on being quiet, and smacks Erik in the shoulder. He doesn't stifle his moans when Erik stops going so slow or uses more force than necessary on his next thrust as retaliation for the smack. This wasn't a porno, but Erik always talked when they had sex. At least he wouldn't last too long. He was still young. T'Challa hates to think his endurance will get better with time and age, he prays this sick little thing between them will have ended by then.
T’Challa isn’t close. It feels nice, but it's not enough and he's too scared of being caught to relax enough. He can't touch himself the way they're pressed together and the way he's pressed against the wall. "Hurry up and come Erik. Please." This is taking way too long.
“Okay, whatever.” There’s a little more shit talking and then he’s coming hard, pressing his face into T'Challa's shoulder blade. For awhile all that T’Challa can hear is the sound of his harsh breathing. Then he asks, “You good?”
Erik's come is leaking out of his ass, and they both smell like sex. He is *not* good. "We need to change clothes. come on." He was definitely making Erik blow him later for this, god he can't believe—he takes a deep breath and fumbles with his pants. "Pull out." He knows Erik hadn't knotted, he would move away himself but there's hardly any space in the closet.
Erik slowly pulls his soft dick out. “You need a towel to wipe your ass or are you just gonna walk around like that?”
T'Challa rolls his eyes and stretches a hand out. "Pass me the paper towels." This was the only upside of doing this sort of thing in a closet, they were surrounded by cleaning supplies.
“Say please.” Erik says with a smirk.
T'Challa is not saying please again. "Hurry up Erik." Honestly it's a miracle no ones caught them yet.
“Say please T'Challa you only get what you want when you’re nice.”
If he fought Erik in this closet they were getting caught. He's going to strangle his cousin. Once he wasn't making a mess on the floor and on his clothes. "Please." He's already reaching for where he thinks the towels are.
“See that wasn’t so hard.” Erik hands over the paper towels after taking one for himself. He wiped his dick off and pulled up his pants and slouched against the wall.
Cleanup takes a minute for T'Challa, who is still hard but ignoring it. Now he just had to make it upstairs to the guest room and change before anyone noticed.
Erik offers to blow him later. It’s totally out of character for the younger alpha. But T'Challa doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides between the two of them. Erik was better at giving blowjobs.
-:-
3 months later T'Challa regrets everything that's led up to where he currently is, bent over his ensuite bathroom toilet and trying really hard not to cry. There was no way. Absolutely no way he was pregnant. He was on birth control. Sure there had been some days he forgot to take it but not enough for... Oh God he's going to be sick again. He clutches his stomach and prays to any deity that's listening that he's not pregnant.
Sometimes him and Erik used condoms, sometimes they didn't. They really had been reckless though. He thinks back to that time in the closet. Fuck Erik definitely hadn't used a condom then. The issues he'd been having with nausea and being tired all the time could be caused by anything. Stress about college stuff, maybe even his diet... He needed to sleep more. It didn't mean he was pregnant. Was it too late to take plan b? He doesn't know. His parents would not be happy at all if he got pregnant. They'd also have questions about who the father was. Something T'Challa couldn't tell them.
Eventually he leaves the bathroom and goes to lie down in bed. He needed to get a pregnancy test just to make sure. That and not freak out. In the meantime he should probably avoid Erik. Half this trouble was because he kept seeking his cousin out. Nothing was worth this sort of stress. Mind made up, he stands up and starts to get dressed. It's the weekend so he has some time before he has to go to sports practice. Maybe he could... No he needed to go to a CVS store he wouldn't be recognized in or run into anyone he knows. He walks down the stairs and sends a text to his friend Nakia. He thinks if he is... pregnant he'll tell her. Then they could figure out what to do. Nakia was a beta but she had an older omega cousin who knew people. maybe... He puts all his dark thoughts to the side. It would be fine, everything would be fine.
He checks his phone in the car and sees a text from Erik. He ignores it. He’s on his way out when someone asks, “T'Challa where are you going?”
T'Challa frowns over at where Erik is standing in the driveway. "I'm doing something with Nakia. I'll be back after practice." And hopefully with the knowledge that his cousin hadn't gotten him pregnant.
“Ok have fun loser!”
T'Challa rolls his eyes and turns on the ignition. Hours later he still doesn't know if he's really.... Mostly because he hadn't been able to buy the test before practice and then gotten distracted by other things. By the time he's headed home he's back to feeling like a ball of anxiety. His parents aren't home thankfully, away on a business trip but he can't be happy about it because he *knows* Erik will want to do the things they normally do when his parents are gone and he *can't* right now.
-
T'Challa enters through the front door as quietly as he can. Intent on sneaking to his room, locking the door and pretending to be asleep. Which wouldn't even be pretending with how tired he's felt lately.
Unfortunately for his plan Erik is soon knocking at his door. “Open the door! Are you masturbating or something?”
T'Challa groans and ignores Erik. He would get bored and leave eventually. He hopes. He strips off his practice gear and things about taking a shower. He feels dirty. His hand keeps rubbing his tummy and anytime he thinks 'I might be—' he can't even complete the thought his stomach flips. It's just such a horrible thing. And it was his damn fault. Eventually Erik leaves after a weird little tirade that mentions T’Challa’s ass way too many times.
T'Challa knows better than to think Erik had given up especially when he's worked himself up. So when Erik walks away he unlocks the door but keeps it closed. If Erik tried again, the door would be unlocked but knowing him he would probably try something dumb. Erik does just as he expects and T’Challa listens to his cousin try and fail to lockpick his door before eventually realizing it was already unlocked. Erik sticks his head in cautiously. “T’Challa?”
"Yes Erik?" Did he have a reason for bothering T'Challa when he was currently going through a crisis?
“What are you doing? Why was the door locked? Are you hiding something? Do you have a playboy magazine in here that you don’t want uncle and auntie to see?” The last part T’Challa knows is just to get on his nerves.
"I want to sleep, without you bothering me." Sometimes he forgot Erik was 15, now was not one of those times. He refuses to rise to the bait and curls up a little tighter on the bed.
“You’re always sleeping. Don’t you ever get bored with that?” Erik walks up to his bed and sits on the edge. T’Challa’s heartbeat starts to race, If Erik had noticed his recent sleeping patterns then his parents might have too.
"I'm just tired N'Jadaka, let me sleep." He doesn't use Erik's real name often but he's exhausted and anxious and currently thinking about what he would actually do if he was…
His parents would let him get rid of it wouldn't they? Or would they keep asking uncomfortable questions. God what if Erik thought he got a say in the matter, then that would be really messy. Better for T'Challa not to tell him.
“Fine you fucking lame ass, I’ll leave you alone.” Erik leaves but not before pinching T'Challa's thigh and slamming the door loudly behind him.
Erik leaves, T'Challa doesn't feel better. But he falls asleep soon enough. He wakes up hours later to pressure on his lower back and wetness between his legs. Before he feels the wetness he doesn't understand why he's even awake but he does and he snaps to consciousness very fast. Erik... fuck.
They played this game sometimes, where Erik or T'Challa if he was feeling horny would go to the other person when they were sleeping and well... touch them till they woke up. Apparently Erik had managed to put some of his fingers inside T'Challa this time before he woke up.
"Erik... stop."
“No.” Erik wiggles his fingers. “I was horny and you were asleep shithead...that’s kinda mean and I *know* you could smell me...” he gives T'Challa's ass a hard smack before pinching it. “I fucking hate you, you know? But your ass is wonderful. Maybe I should get it molded one day...” he chuckled. “No I like using the real thing better.” He shoved his fingers in deeper and smiled as slick ran all over his fingers.
T'Challa can't even focus on the filth coming out of Erik’s mouth, he’s too disoriented. He has to jolt Erik's arm to move his fingers away from the point where he's been applying so much pressure. His ass is stinging from the smack.
"I don't want to fuck you tonight. pull out." He would suck Erik if he had to and he hated giving head. He just didn't want any more unprotected sex.
“You’re not fucking me, I’m fucking you...” Erik retorted. “You usually don’t say no...are you fucking hiding something from me you asshole? Are you fucking another alpha behind my back?” Erik sounds jealous.
“Well if you are I’m shocked someone is able to put up with your bitching and moaning 24/7...even if they are, that doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re just a nasty quick fuck, I can find something like you anywhere!” He jammed his fingers repeatedly against his prostate.
Erik applying more savage pressure to his prostate hurts. T'Challa recoils in pain. He doesn't miss the jealousy on Erik's voice, when he mentions T'Challa fucking someone else. He also resents the 'nasty quick fuck' comment too. He knows Erik can fuck other people, he was popular at school. If he wanted he could have a girlfriend who would let him do whatever he liked. But yet he was here, in T'Challa's bed, way too late to be appropriate finger fucking his 17 year old cousin.
T'Challa rolls away, avoiding Erik's attempt to grab him. "I'll blowyou, come on." He’s too annoyed to play their usual games.
Erik looks suspicious but he accepts T’Challa’s offer. He undoes his pants and pulls down his underwear. “Go on.”
T'Challa makes a face. He doesn't like giving blow jobs. Maybe that's weird for an omega but he just never liked it. And Erik was too rough for his liking. But he crawls forward anyway in between Erik's legs. He starts slow because he knows Erik likes that. If he just takes the alphas cock into his mouth then it would take forever and Erik would try to fuck his throat. T'Challa hated that. So he licks carefully and hopes Erik is worked up enough to come fast.
Erik groans, “Wow, I forgot how slutty your mouth was. You know I bet this would be better if there was a dildo in your ass vibrating against your g-spot.” He sighed and looked down at T'Challa “you look great like this, you giving me head gives off a really degrading vibe that I love seeing on you...” he chuckled, “Stick it further down your throat hearing you gag gives me joy.” He grins after he speaks, looking absolutely delighted.
The funny thing is T'Challa already knew all these things. He knows Erik would liek to use toys on him. He knows Erik likes to embarrass him . T'Challa being degraded turns him on. And he knows Erik loves to hear him choke. It should be enough to never ever have sex with Erik again. But it keeps happening. He takes more of Erik's dick in his mouth and tries not to gag. He's not even close to deep throating he just really doesn't like giving blowjobs.
“You know you should try riding my face again, I know I *accidentally* pushed you off that one time but I am willing to try again.”
T'Challa stops sucking, "Shut up please. Shut up Erik." Then he goes right back to sucking before Erik can complain. He's not swallowing.
Erik laughs, “oooo you finally said something back, I bet you thought you did something...” He pokes T'Challa's face. “I would say ‘fuck you’ but I’m already fucking your mouth so there probably isn’t much need for that…”
T'Challa just tries to block Erik out. He wonders if Erik really cares why he suddenly doesn't want to fuck. Probably not, Erik was selfish, all he cared about was coming.
Erik sighed as he felt his orgasm approaching. “You know I’m....” he groaned as came hard into T'Challa's mouth. Erik doesn't warn him in time and T'Challa actually gets some of it in his mouth which he immediately spits out. Erik doesn't look like he'll be leaving anytime soon.
It’s quiet for a bit and T’Challa is getting ready to tell Erik to leave.“What’s the bag for?” Erik asks, out of nowhere.
T’Challa closes his eyes. Fuck. "Just some heat pads. You can leave now." He tries to say as nonchalantly as he could despite lying through his teeth. His heat wasn't for awhile. And he hated heat pads even if they did absorb all the slick. He liked the heat cups better, he could just insert it and forget about it. At least till he had to pee.
“No I wanna see.” Erik shows suspicious curiosity even after T’Challa makes it clear its something boring.
T'Challa ignores Erik and lies back on the bed. Away from the puddle of Erik's come. He would have to change the sheets. He didn't want to do anything right now. He had promised himself he would take a pregnancy test in the morning when he actually needed to pee and not a moment before. He's hoping if he doesn't make a big deal out of the bag. Erik won't look inside. Won't ask questions.
“Wow you even ignore me after you after to give me head.” Erik puts his pants back on and walks over to the table where the plastic bag is then he opens the bag and pulls out a pregnancy test. He cocks an eyebrow. Askes, with much less certainty “Uhhh...what is this for?”
T'Challa turns around to where Erik is standing. Why couldn't Erik ever leave things be? Well now he could lie or he could tell the truth. Maybe Erik wouldn't know what a pregnancy test looks like? "For me."
“Bruh are you fucking pregnant?” He sounds shocked, he walks back to the bed still holding the packaged test..
"I don't. Know. Maybe." Erik’s shocked tone is making T’Challa angry. His cousin was 15. T'Challa was 17. If his parents ever found out... They would blame T'Challa not Erik. Everyone knew young alphas didn't have great control. He shouldn't have ever let it get this far. Shouldn't have kept *having* sex with his then 14 now 15 year old younger cousin.
Maybe that first incident during Erik's rut when he was 14 might have been forgivable. But not everything after.
“What will you do if you are?” Erik’s expression is serious for once.
"I'm not pregnant. I just need to make sure." Make sure his recent symptoms were from stress and not the few times he forgot to take his birth control. T’Challa gets up and leans over to snatch the test out of Erik's hands.
“So when are you going to take it?” Erik is looking at him with the oddest expression on his face.
"Later. I don't need to pee now. Go to sleep." Sometimes Erik stayed in his room sometimes he didn't T'Challa doesn't know which it'll be tonight. He gets off the bed and starts to strip the sheets. There were fresh ones in the linen closet and he would throw these soiled ones in the washer tonight.
“Can I sleep in here with you?...to like make sure you’re ok?” Erik doesn’t look at his face when he asks and his hands are now stuffed into his sweatpants pockets.
The last part gives T'Challa pause. "I'm fine, N'Jadaka. I'm not pregnant just paranoid." He doesn't say no though. "Get me some new sheets please, I need to put these in the washer."
“Okay.” Erik goes to the closest to grab a new pair of sheets and goes back to T'Challa's room. “Here.” He says gently passing T'Challa the sheets.
He doesn’t leave the room, even after T’Challa has remade the bed. Despite himself, T'Challa smiles and relents. "You can stay. Just don't hog all the blankets."
T'Challa tries not think about the reason Erik is being so nice now. What was his cousin thinking? Was he worried? Scared? Had he ever thought seriously about what might happen if T'Challa ever got pregnant? If his parents found out? Probably not, Erik was young. Sex was just meaningless fun to him and by some lucky happenstance they haven't been caught yet. So while he *knows* like T'Challa they need to be careful. And honestly stop having sex with each other, he doesn't actually do it. That incident in the supply closet attests to it. That and him seeking T'Challa out for sex tonight
“Well I’m gonna go shower, don’t fall asleep without me. I’ll be back.” He winks at T’Challa before heading into the ensuite bathroom.
T'Challa sighs. Nope, nothing phased Erik. He was always goofy no matter the situation. He should probably shower too but he just feels drained. He wants to go back to sleep. He would deal with everything else in the morning.
When Erik gets back from the shower, he makes a show of using T’Challa’s lotion before he goes to find pajamas. T'Challa grumbles but doesn't turn over from where he's curled up in bed. He's staked out his side of the bed and left the other side to Erik. The bed is more than big enough for the two of them but somehow he always ends up getting kicked by Erik or lying right on top of him when he wakes up.
Erik chuckles and slides into the other unoccupied of the bed. He moves closer to T'Challa and wraps an arm around his waist. T'Challa's body was warm and muscular. Erik rubs his hand up down T'Challa's arm, “You feel so strong, those sports are really paying off. Huh?” He kissed T'Challa's neck and inhaled his scent.
Any other time and T'Challa would kick Erik off him. But tonight he feels, not great so he allows the contact. Doesn't pull away. Just mumbles: "Go to sleep N'Jadaka."