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Chapter Text

Bucky

It was something he never thought he would like. In fact, it was something that he hated about every other Alpha he'd met. He had never liked the shows of dominance. When Alphas tried to dominate him, he challenged them.

He wasn't like most other Omegas. He wasn't submissive and he certainly wasn't needy or clingy. He sure as hell wasn't nurturing. He wasn't a homemaker. Nor was he the type to settle down or breed with.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd made a nest. Soft, sweet and cuddly were three words that nobody would dare use to describe him. He was the Winter Soldier for God's sake. Once.

He wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore. He knew that. He also knew that for some reason he couldn't explain, he loved it when M'Baku of the mountain tribe growled at him. 

It was a game now. Bucky just liked to see how far he could push him. It started when T'Challa invited him to sit in on the meetings of the Tribal Council as an advisor. More than seventy years of combat experience was nothing to sneeze at.

T'Challa recognised that he was a brilliant military strategist and tactician. He would have been a fool not to utilise his knowledge and experience. T'Challa was no fool. He was also no Omega... and somehow Bucky found himself sitting in the Council Chambers, the only Omega at a table of Alphas. 

He started to notice little things, M'Baku's scent for one. He could pick it out from amongst the stink of pheromones coming off the other Alphas. The intoxicating freshness of wild frangipani. It was more potent somehow.

He didn't know why that was, but after the first meeting, he decided to see if he affected M'Baku in the same way. It was easy enough to get scent enhancers. He knew it was a bad idea, especially with all the other Alphas in the room, but he just couldn't resist.

It was something Steve could have told T'Challa and maybe he should have. Steve should have warned him. He was the one person who knew that Bucky had always been and always would be a giant smartass. He loved getting a rise out of people. It had just been so long since he'd felt like himself that he'd forgotten how much fun it was. 

He knew the instant M'Baku realised what he'd done, because a deep growl sounded from behind him. Bucky raised his head and smiled. He knew he'd gotten to him and he loved it.

Without missing a beat, he rubbed the scent gland on the inside of his wrist over the cover of the tablet that detailed the meeting agenda, then he turned and pressed the tablet into M'Baku's hand. 

"Anything to add?" Bucky asked smoothly, offering him a grin. 

M'Baku's nostrils flared, his pupils dilating, and his scent spiking with arousal. That earthy note of musk was so intoxicating and woodsy. He was glaring at him now and Bucky got a wicked sense of enjoyment out of it. He didn't even know why he was going out of his way to get a reaction out of him. It just felt good, and he hadn't felt good in a long time. 

"No," M'Baku growled in response to Bucky's question, slapping the tablet into his hand and taking a seat at the opposite end of the long, ebony table. 

Bucky smiled to himself. He could smell M'Baku from the other side of the room. Even more importantly, he could hear him. When T'Challa rested a hand on Bucky's shoulder as he took his seat, M'Baku growled. He was annoyed and Bucky loved it. 

He was basking in a patch of late afternoon sunlight. He had no meetings or obligations today. There was just him, the sun, and this delightful sleepy feeling that was creeping over him. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relaxed.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It was something about Wakanda itself, he decided. Even the air smelled different. It had this earthy, green smell: like wild frangipani and - oh, God. He realised that it wasn't Wakanda he was smelling after all. It was M'Baku. He'd followed him out here to this little dock overlooking the river on the west side of the city. 

Bucky didn't even hesitate. He yawned and tipped his head back, exposing the scent gland on the side of his neck to the open air. He hummed softly, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin.

He couldn't get enough of it. Hydra kept him in cryo-freeze for too many years. He was always cold. The serum made Steve run hot when it juiced up his metabolism, but Bucky still felt cold, even all these years later. So on the rare occasion that he actually felt warm, he got all sleepy and relaxed, too relaxed maybe. 

He could practically feel the vibrations in the air as M'Baku growled in response to his scent. It was supposed to sound dominant and intimidating, but it just amused him. A low chuckle escaped his lips.

He just couldn't seem to help himself. He hadn't felt this free in a long time. He was perfectly at his liberty to wind M'Baku up as much as he liked. He couldn't go too far, of course. M'Baku was a leader in his own right; he commanded a certain level of authority and respect.

But Bucky was under the protection of the Golden Tribe, so he had nothing to fear from M'Baku, from anyone really. That was a comforting thought. It made him feel a little smug actually. He was important to T'Challa. He hadn't been important in a long time, at least, not important for the right reasons. T'Challa valued his input; it was a nice feeling. 

He felt something smooth and hard resting against his throat and he cracked an eye open. M'Baku was pressing his wooden knobkerrie against his neck and eying him warily. Bucky suppressed a smirk. 

"Oh, hey, M'Baku. I didn't see you there," he said casually.

M'Baku's eyes narrowed and Bucky almost laughed. It was so easy to get under his skin. 

"Is something funny, Ingcuka?" M'Baku asked, staring at him. 

"Well, that depends," Bucky replied, noting that M'Baku's knobkerrie was still resting against his throat.

He was strangely unbothered by it. If it was anyone else trying to intimidate him, he would have been pushing back by now. Instead, he just teased him.

"Do you know any jokes?" Bucky asked innocently. 

"Just the one," M'Baku admitted, his frown easing a little. 

"Are you going to tell me your joke?" Bucky inquired as M'Baku withdrew his knobkerrie.

He wondered if M'Baku realised that he had just rubbed it all over his scent gland. He decided not to mention it yet. He was enjoying having M'Baku to himself for a few minutes. He rarely spoke to him outside of the Tribal Council. 

"I'm not going to tell you my joke, Ingcuka. It's crude and inappropriate," M'Baku declared, shaking his head. 

"I like it already," Bucky declared with a grin.

The idea that M'Baku knew a dirty joke was amusing in itself. He patted the space beside him on the wooden dock, indicating that M'Baku should sit. 

"Why do you keep tormenting me?" M'Baku asked, sitting down beside him and looking annoyed. 

"That's your joke?" Bucky muttered, biting back a grin when M'Baku glared at him.

He actually couldn't remember the last time someone had told him a joke. Shuri probably knew quite a few. 

"Answer the question, Ingcuka," M'Baku demanded, his scent intensifying with a harsh note of burnt marshmallow. 

"I don't take orders," Bucky declared with a stubborn lift of his chin.

Maybe that was why he didn't like Alphas trying to dominate him. Hydra forced him to submit for so many years that he couldn't stand it now. He pushed back every single time on principle. 

"You don't take orders from me?" M'Baku asked softly. 

"From anyone," Bucky insisted, fixing him with a hard stare.

He didn't take orders from anyone anymore. Not M'Baku, not T'Challa, and certainly not Hydra. If he complied with any direction at all, it was because he wanted to, not because he had to. 

"Mess with me during a meeting again and I'll..."

"You'll what?" Bucky asked, calling his bluff.

M'Baku had no power over him. He obviously knew it too, and the knowledge drew a frustrated growl from him. Bucky relished the sound. Knowing that he could drive an Alpha crazy without being forced to submit gave him a strange kind of power that he hadn't had in a long time. 

"You'll find out," M'Baku promised, standing up and walking away from him. 

Bucky smiled. He couldn't wait to find out what kind of reaction he would get from him next time. It wasn't until M'Baku was gone that he realised how out of breath he felt. He liked M'Baku threatening him. He liked it a lot.  

Chapter Text

M'Baku

Ingcuka was infuriating, he decided. The man was stubborn and disrespectful. He didn't belong in Wakanda or on the Tribal Council. Hanuman damn him, Ingcuka's scent was so intoxicating that it was enough to drive him out of his mind.

It was all a big joke to Ingcuka. Everything was. M'Baku's self control had not been so sorely tested in many years. He had half a mind to ask T'Challa to ban Ingcuka from the Council Chambers until he learned to behave with propriety. At the very least, someone should light scent neutralising candles in the room before meetings, he decided. 

He was having a hard time focusing on his food as it was. He could smell Ingcuka all through T'Challa's dining room as if the Omega had been rubbing his scent over every available surface. At this point, he wouldn't have put it past him.

He should never have let Ingcuka see that he was getting under his skin. Now that he knew the effect he had on him, Ingcuka was going more out of his way to tease and torment him than he ever had before. Damn Ingcuka, he thought moodily, stabbing at his spicy chickpea and kale curry with an irritated growl. 

"What are you so grumpy about?" T'Challa asked, staring at him.  

"Nothing," M'Baku muttered crossly. 

He could tell from the look on T'Challa's face that the king didn't believe him. M'Baku averted his eyes with a scowl and reached for his water glass. He was going to need something stronger than water tonight. 

"Your talk with Sergeant Barnes didn't go well?" T'Challa guessed with a sympathetic sigh. 

"It was fine," M'Baku lied, gritting his teeth.

It was frustrating. That was much closer to the truth. He doubted that Ingcuka listened to a single thing he said. The Omega was getting much too cocky for his own good. He was too secure in T'Challa's protection. Ingcuka thought he was invincible and he wasn't. 

"What did he do this time?" T'Challa asked, shaking his head.  

"I hate him!" M'Baku exclaimed furiously. 

Ingcuka annoyed him more than anyone he'd ever met. He also aroused him more than anyone he'd ever met and that was part of the reason why he was so irritated by him. Nobody had ever had this effect on him. Ingcuka had too much power over him. He commanded his senses and his desires and he hated that about him. 

"You don't hate him!" T'Challa declared with a laugh, leaning back in his chair. 

"I do! He's just so... kọchaa ya!" M'Baku exclaimed in Igbo. "He smells like... like citrus, like dark orange flower, T'Challa. Like the wild trees that grow in the forest on the northern slopes."

Ingcuka's scent was yet another thing that irritated him. He smelled like the sacred forests of his home. Ingcuka was an Outsider. He had no right to smell like Jabariland. It infuriated him.

"You love that forest!" T'Challa protested immediately. "It's your favourite place to go. You meditate there all the time."

"Yes!" M'Baku exclaimed furiously. "It is a peaceful place of great beauty and he has ruined it for me! Now I can't go there without thinking about him."

He gave a groan of frustration and pushed his plate aside, his appetite abandoning him. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't even bathe without thinking about Ingcuka. The Omega's scent was seared into his brain. His constant taunting and teasing was making it worse. 

"Just ask him out," T'Challa suggested, taking a sip from his wine glass. 

"No!" M'Baku flatly refused. 

If he asked him out, Ingcuka won. If he got his way through playing these childish games, he would never stop. Absolutely not. He was never going to ask Ingcuka to court him. Not in this lifetime. 

"Why not?" T'Challa asked, looking at him in surprise. 

"You think I want to ask him out and wind up being driven insane by that damn Omega for the rest of my life?" M'Baku demanded, glaring at his king. 

He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it. The idea of having Ingcuka's scent permeate every inch of his den was enough to give him heart palpitations. However, he was just stubborn enough to deny himself the pleasure of having Ingcuka scent mark his home. He couldn't give in to him. 

"I said you should ask him out, not marry him. You're so dramatic," T'Challa muttered, pouring himself more wine. 

"There is absolutely no difference, T'Challa!" M'Baku declared, frustrated with him. "If I ask him out, I will want to take him to my bed. If I do that, I will want to mark him and if I do that, we will be bonded forever and he will be perfectly at his liberty to drive me completely insane for the rest of my days!"  

He glared at him when T'Challa started laughing. It was not funny. Ingcuka was interfering with every aspect of his life and driving him to distraction. He dreaded seeing the next stunt the Omega pulled. Ingcuka was up to something. He knew that for certain. 

"M'Baku, this is the very definition of fighting a losing battle," T'Challa declared, smiling to himself. "You're obviously attracted to him."

"You think I don't know that?" M'Baku demanded, sending him a withering glare. "Look at this." 

He stood up and moved around the table, kneeling with his back to T'Challa as he drew away his silver grey furs to expose his left shoulder blade, revealing the slowly darkening outline of a soul mark that had etched its way into his skin over the past month. 

"Sweet Bast!" T'Challa breathed, tracing the mark with his thumb. "Is that...?"

"A damn wolf!" M'Baku exclaimed, a growl escaping him. "Your White Wolf."

He slowly stood up, turning to glare at his king, who had the audacity to smile. He knew what a soul mark meant. He was drawn to Ingcuka like a magnet. It was inevitable really. Eventually, he was going to give in and let himself feel all the things that he tried to deny. 

"No, M'Baku," T'Challa murmured, shaking his head. "Your White Wolf from the looks of that."

"This is all your fault!" M'Baku complained with a dramatic whine. 

T'Challa was the one who gave Ingcuka the protection of the Golden Tribe, a vibranium arm and a seat on the Council. It was entirely T'Challa's fault that he had been rubbing shoulders with Ingcuka for months. He would never have met him if it hadn't been for T'Challa. 

"I will gladly take the blame," T'Challa said with a laugh, highly amused. "Ask him out, M'Baku. Just get it over with. All this frustration is bad for your blood pressure."

"I hate him. I do!" M'Baku insisted, folding his arms across his chest. 

T'Challa didn't believe him. He could tell from the look on his face. It was unfair, really. Why couldn't his soulmate have been someone less annoying? Someone like Okoye perhaps, who understood the life of a warrior and could halt a charging rhinoceros with a look. But no, his soulmate was the smug, cocky Omega who enjoyed driving him crazy. 

"Just be sure to invite me to the wedding," T'Challa teased, grinning at him. "Perhaps we can co-ordinate and Nakia and I can get married on the same day."

"At least she doesn't drive you insane," M'Baku muttered irritably.  

T'Challa was lucky. Nakia was loyal, intelligent and obeyed the rules of propriety. She would never irritate someone just to see how far she could push them. Ingcuka was a damn nightmare. 

"You think she doesn't drive me crazy?" T'Challa exclaimed incredulously. "I tried to forget about her. The woman is impossible to banish from my thoughts. I'm marrying her to save my own sanity."

"There are worse reasons to marry," M'Baku declared, resuming his seat. 

Arranged marriages weren't uncommon in Wakanda. Compatibility, loyalty and stability were considered to be more important qualities in a life partner than romance or attraction, especially in the Jabari Tribe. Attraction led to trouble. Trouble like Ingcuka. 

"Ask him out. I'll even chaperone your date if you don't think you can control yourself around him," T'Challa offered kindly. 

"I may take you up on that," M'Baku muttered with a dark scowl. 

His hand drifted to the soul mark, now covered by his furs again. He couldn't tell Ingcuka about it yet. He couldn't even admit to himself how much he wanted to explore the possibility of a connection between them. 

"Stop fighting it so hard. You're only torturing yourself," T'Challa declared with a sigh. 

"Believe me, I know," M'Baku replied, shaking his head. 

If Ingcuka had his way, his torture was only just beginning. The Omega had a way of finding all the wrong buttons to push. He knew how to get to him. M'Baku still hadn't figured out if he loved him or hated him for it. He was going to have to figure it out. Soon.  

Chapter Text

Bucky

M'Baku was late and he was starting to wonder if he was going to show up to the meeting at all. The other members of the Tribal Council had been waiting for almost thirty minutes already. He shifted restlessly in his seat and glanced at T'Challa. The king was patient as ever and didn't seem concerned by the delay in M'Baku's arrival. 

Wild frangipani flooded his senses and nearly drowned him. Bucky gasped for breath and turned his head just in time to catch a glimpse of M'Baku entering the Council Chambers. The Great Gorilla had decided to beat him at his own game.

He was bare chested, clad in nothing more than furs and a leather skirt that covered very little. His body was streaked with white warpaint and Bucky could see tattoos on his muscled upper arms that he'd never noticed before. 

Words failed him as M'Baku approached him and snatched the meeting agenda from his hand. A whimper escaped his lips as M'Baku's fingers brushed against his hand, sending tingles racing through his veins. The Alpha growled, a look of smug satisfaction settling over his handsome features. 

Bucky couldn't breathe. It was one thing to be attracted to him when M'Baku was grumpy and scowling. It was quite another when he was all smug and cocky like that. He loved it. He grimaced and shifted lower in his seat, thankful that the table concealed his rapidly hardening cock from the other Council members. He was the one who had started it. That was the problem. No, the problem was that M'Baku had decided to play his game and he was winning. 

"Anything to add?" M'Baku asked smugly, repeating the words Bucky had said to him at the last meeting. 

Bucky didn't even look up. He gritted his teeth and shook his head mutely. M'Baku breathed deeply and loudly, a rumble echoing through his chest as he inhaled Bucky's scent. He casually, so casually, leaned down to whisper to him, his warm breath brushing over Bucky's mating gland, as he struggled not to squirm in his seat. 

"I warned you not to mess with me, Ingcuka," M'Baku murmured as he took a seat right beside him, so that Bucky would have no reprieve from his scent for the entire meeting. 

It lasted hours and there was no escape. Bucky couldn't have cared less about the proposed plans for a new sporting venue or the dried out river that had started to flow again, prompting a request by the River Tribe elder for a celebration of Bast's gift to the tribe.

He had nothing to add to the plans for a feast in honour of the anniversary of T'Challa's kingship. The only thing he could think about was M'Baku's scent. 

The meeting dragged on and he made a great effort to control his breathing, trying to limit how much M'Baku's scent was affecting him. When an argument broke out regarding the removal of an ancient sculpture in the city, he considered asking T'Challa if he could be excused from the meeting, but with M'Baku's eyes on him, he didn't dare.

He found himself volunteering to assist with the capture of a monstrous crocodile instead. It had been seen lurking in a wading pool in the Inner City where children swam every day. He couldn't help thinking that he would rather deal with the crocodile than M'Baku. 

Lunchtime came and went and still the meeting continued. The elder of the Merchant Tribe wanted to discuss exports of Wakandan goods to a new trading partner in the United States and was seeking the approval of the Council.

M'Baku shot that idea down quickly, making his mistrust of Outsiders abundantly clear. The discussion moved on to the bumper crop of dates that were soon to be flooding Wakandan markets.

It was at this point that Bucky started checking his watch. They hadn't even reached security matters yet and it looked like he was going to be in the Council Chambers all day at this rate. 

His patience started to ebb when plans for a new performing arts centre were put forward and he was just about to say something when T'Challa came to his rescue and mentioned a dispute between the patrol units of the Border and Jabari tribes. T'Challa insisted that M'Kathu and M'Baku find a resolution and suggested that Bucky should be the one to negotiate between the warring security officers and patrolmen.

He readily agreed, grateful for T'Challa's confidence in his skills as a negotiator and advocate for peace between the tribes. At long last, the Council members reached the final item on the agenda: a complaint about the delay in the production of new river barges developed by Shuri. T'Challa promised to look into it and finally the meeting came to an end.

M'Baku stood up and left, to Bucky's great relief. Although, the Great Gorilla did toss a smirk over his shoulder at him as he walked away. Bucky was so wet with slick that he could hardly breathe. 

He waited until the last Council member had left before he stood up. He needed a cold shower, he decided as he crossed the room. As soon as he stepped outside the Council Chambers, he heard a low growl and he froze as M'Baku shoved him roughly against the wall. 

"Are you done tormenting me?" M'Baku asked, regarding him with some amusement.  

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm done," Bucky declared, his breaths coming in ragged, panting gasps as he looked up at him. 

M'Baku was much too close to him. He could count every one of the little gold flecks that dotted his dark irises. His scent overwhelmed him and he longed to lean forward and bury his nose in M'baku's scent gland. That note of wild frangipani laced with musk was addictive. 

"Why don't I believe you?" M'Baku grumbled, taking half a step back. 

Bucky grinned at him. A teasing remark was on the tip of his tongue, but then M'Baku leaned in and pressed a fierce kiss to his lips, stealing away every last thought from him. He was caged in, pinned between the wall and hot, hard lines of Jabari muscle, drowning in Alpha scent.

He found himself melting into M'Baku's touch. He'd gone almost completely boneless in his arms, sinking so easily into the delicious heat he offered. 

M'Baku pulled back, breaking the kiss, and Bucky drew a ragged breath. M'Baku's dark eyes were wild, so darkened with lust that they were almost black. Bucky's mind had gone completely blank, every last thought obliterated by the intensity of that kiss.

He couldn't find a single thing to say as M'Baku smiled, cupped his cheek with his hand for a long moment, and then walked away, leaving Bucky standing there, half out of his mind with lust and arousal. 

Bucky frowned and played with his bobotie. It hadn't escaped his attention that T'Challa had gone to all the effort of having his cook prepare one of his favourite meals for him. T'Challa was too thoughtful for words.

He knew the comfort Bucky drew from familiar dishes, and he always put the extra effort in to make him feel more at home. It wasn't comfort he craved tonight. The only thing he was craving was M'Baku. He couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. 

"You seem distracted tonight," T'Challa commented casually. "What's on your mind?"  

"He kissed me," Bucky mumbled, touching his lip absently. 

It was a long moment before he realised he'd actually said it aloud. He grimaced and looked at T'Challa. The Black Panther was giving him a strange look. 

"M'Baku kissed you?" T'Challa exclaimed, his eyes widening. 

"You knew he was going to do that?" Bucky replied, equally shocked. 

He hadn't had any idea that M'Baku would take it that far. He hadn't taken it seriously himself until now. He'd just been teasing, pushing him to see what he would do. M'Baku had risen to the challenge magnificently and now he didn't know what to do. 

"Please, the entire Council has been watching the two of you for weeks. You are not subtle, James," T'Challa declared as Bucky groaned and buried his head in his hands, absolutely mortified. "Are you two done playing games?" 

"Yes," Bucky muttered, sighing heavily. "It's just... playing is easier sometimes." 

It cost him a little pride to admit that, especially to T'Challa. Everyone thought he was so confident, so self assured and brave, T'Challa's White Wolf. It bruised his ego a little to admit his own insecurities. 

"When it's something real, you have something to lose," T'Challa observed, giving him a sympathetic smile. 

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, glancing at his plate. 

He found that what little appetite he'd had was long gone. Even the delicious spices of his favourite Wakandan dish had lost its appeal. The only thing he could think about was M'Baku. 

"You know, he might be the most stubborn man on the planet," T'Challa admitted with a soft smile. "But he is loyal and kind and good and far more gentle than he would have you believe. He won't hurt you, James." 

"It's that obvious, huh?" Bucky muttered, averting his eyes. 

T'Challa saw right through him. Of course he did. Teasing and flirting was nothing more than a paltry shield, a means of protecting his heart. He'd been hurt too many times. 

"Nobody would believe it. The soldier is gun shy," T'Challa teased, smiling at him. 

"I just haven't done this in a long time," Bucky admitted, shaking his head doubtfully. 

He'd been fairly certain that he would never do this again. Dating, courtship and romance all seemed like distant memories. They belonged to a past life. A life that was no longer his. 

"What happened the last time you tried?" T'Challa asked, cocking his head at him.  

"I played games," Bucky confessed, sighing heavily. "I courted Alpha after Alpha. I couldn't see what was right in front of me. I mean, I could see it, I just..."

"You were afraid to lose it and so you did," T'Challa guessed, giving him a sad smile.  

"Yeah, I did," Bucky agreed sadly. 

He'd lost everything in spectacular fashion. One bad day on a train had cost him dearly. He hesitated now. Taking risks was for younger men who didn't know what it was to lose everything and everyone. 

"You're not too old to try again, James," T'Challa declared, taking a sip from his wine glass. 

"Are you about to tell me to be myself?" Bucky asked doubtfully. 

His tone was cynical and he guessed that his expression was even more so. He didn't know how to be himself. He didn't know which self he was supposed to be. All his past lives felt like fragmented pieces and he didn't know which identity was meant to be his. 

"My Baba used to say that, but I never found that advice to be very helpful," T'Challa replied, his gaze flickering to the portrait of King T'Chaka that rested against the opposite wall. "James, I have known M'Baku for some years now. He doesn't like playing games." 

"So I've screwed up is what you're saying," Bucky muttered grimly. 

For someone that didn't like playing games, M'Baku certainly knew how to compete. He had never expected him to push back the way he had. He had definitely never predicted that M'Baku would kiss him. When was the last time someone had done that? He couldn't remember. 

"It's never too late to turn things around," T'Challa insisted, giving Bucky a little hope. "The Jabari are honest and authentic, too much so, sometimes. They don't shy away from uncomfortable truths. Speak from the heart, James. I don't think you'll be disappointed in M'baku's response. He'll respect you for your openness and respond in kind."

"T'Challa..." 

"Don't be afraid to go after what you want, James," T'Challa insisted, giving him an encouraging nod. 

"Reading my mind again?" Bucky asked, propping an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

He couldn't remember the last time he had wanted something this badly. He had clung to peace out of desperation for years, believing it to be the only way not to be the Winter Soldier. That desperation no longer drove him. He wasn't afraid of relapsing and becoming a monster again. He was afraid of being alone, especially now that Steve was in the wind. 

"I know you and I know him. The attraction runs both ways," T'Challa declared confidently. 

"How can you be so sure?" Bucky asked, frowning doubtfully. 

T'Challa seemed so certain. He couldn't help feeling hopeful. He wanted T'Challa to be right. He wanted to believe that there was more to it than one kiss. He didn't want that to be a one time thing. 

"You will not breathe a word of this, but M'Baku told me you smell like home to him," T'Challa informed him. 

"Really?" Bucky exclaimed in shock. 

That was oddly sentimental and soft for M'Baku, and he couldn't help smiling. M'Baku didn't smell like home to him. He smelled like wildness and adventure, like the forgotten days of his youth, when exhilaration had been his drug. 

"He's not happy about it," T'Challa admitted with a laugh. "He thinks you have some nerve to remind him of his sacred lands, but like I told you, the Jabari don't shy away from the truth. His main concern is that you're going to drive him insane with all the teasing." 

"So if I were to back things off a little…" Bucky suggested quietly. 

He let the sentence hang between them, waiting for T'Challa to respond. The Black Panther was in the unenviable position of being the friend caught between two idiots who were too stubborn and foolhardy to behave like adults. 

"He would appreciate it, yes," T'Challa agreed, sighing to himself. "I think you could make each other happy, James. Just give it a chance."

"When did you get so wise?" Bucky teased, unable to help himself. 

T'Challa was right, he decided. He could back things off a little. And after that kiss today, he wanted a chance to explore something a little more serious with M'Baku. Something with more substance to it than endless teasing at least. 

"Is that what you call matchmaking? Wisdom?" T'Challa said doubtfully. "Mama calls it meddling. She told me not to get involved."

"But you just can't help yourself," Bucky replied, shaking his head at him. 

He could just picture the look on Ramonda's face if she could see T'Challa giving him relationship advice. It was kind of funny, the thought of the King of Wakanda setting him up with a former political rival.

He found that he didn't mind T'Challa meddling as he called it, not if it meant that he would have the chance to be close to M'Baku again, to be held like that and kissed like that as many times as he wanted. 

Chapter Text

M'Baku

He had just reached the outskirts of Birnin Zana when he caught a whiff of that familiar scent: sweet orange flower. He froze, his head snapping up as he turned in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure entering a bar on the other side of the street. Ingcuka. 

The Omega hadn't seen him. Or if he had, he hadn't been obvious about it. M'Baku paused for a long moment, trying to decide what to do. He was expected to return to Jabariland this evening. But there was a note of sour cherry lingering in the air, mingling with orange. Ingcuka was unhappy.  

As much as he tried to tell himself that it wasn't his problem, he just couldn't ignore the man. Sighing, M'Baku entered The Black Bull, finding Ingcuka sitting alone at the bar, a glass filled with ice and Amarula liqueur in front of him. 

M'Baku hesitated, watching the Omega bring the glass to his lips. Ingcuka closed his eyes as he sipped, seeming to enjoy the drink. M'Baku had tried it before. It was pleasant enough, creamy and citrusy, although he much preferred the taste of amasi, which was the traditional drink of the Jabari, who fermented the milk themselves.  

"May I join you?" M'Baku asked, quietly pleased when Ingcuka choked, his eyes snapping open and finding him in the dimly lit bar. 

Ingcuka set the glass down and nodded, gesturing to the seat beside him. M'Baku smiled as he took his seat. He liked that he had the ability to render Ingcuka speechless. He curled a hand around the Omega's glass and raised it, sipping the sweet, creamy liquid. 

That citrus tang lingered on his tongue, adding to his enjoyment of the orange flower in Ingcuka's scent. He leaned closer instinctively, breathing deeply. The Omega smelled so sweet, so rich and intoxicating. 

"Why are you drinking alone tonight?" M'Baku murmured, setting the glass back down. 

"I'm not really one for company," Ingcuka replied, raising those piercing blue eyes to M'Baku's face. 

"Would you rather I left?" he asked quietly, watching the Omega's expression closely.  

"No," Ingcuka admitted, leaning close enough to him that M'Baku felt the whisper of his breath against his cheek. 

He turned to look at him, startled when Ingcuka's lips brushed against his in a soft, tentative kiss. M'Baku gasped, but allowed it, his hand moving to grip Ingcuka's arm, holding onto him as the Omega deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past his lips, drawing a moan from M'Baku. He pulled back, gasping for breath and blinking rapidly as he looked into lust darkened blue eyes. 

"Ingcuka..." 

"Tell me to stop," the Omega whispered against his lips. "Tell me you're not interested in me."

"I never lie," M'Baku replied with a soft sigh. 

He curled an arm around Ingcuka's neck and drew him into a second kiss that lacked the heat and intensity of their last few encounters. Ingcuka was so soft and warm, so sweet, his kisses the most tender, loving touches M'Baku had ever experienced. He pulled back reluctantly, pressing other, softer kisses to the tip of Ingcuka's nose and his forehead, drawing an amused chuckle from the Omega.  

"Tell me something," M'Baku murmured, leaning their foreheads together. "Why are you sad tonight? I could smell you from across the street."

"I'm not sad," Ingcuka protested, his expression clouding. "I just... I get lonely sometimes." 

Everything in M'Baku softened with that quiet admission. The Outsider, people called Ingcuka. The Wolf of the Panther Tribe. No wonder he felt isolated and alone. He was. Who did he have in his life besides T'Challa? The king was often away on missions, leaving Ingcuka more alone than ever. He sighed, feeling empathy stir within him. 

"You don't have to be alone tonight," M'Baku murmured, his fingers tracing the graceful curve of Ingcuka's neck, brushing against his mating gland. 

"Don't I?" Ingcuka asked longingly. 

"Come with me if you want to," M'Baku requested, taking Ingcuka's hand. 

He tugged him off his stool, leading him into the bathroom. Ingcuka let the door swing shut behind him, leaning his back against it and giving M'Baku a very coy smile. A rich scent washed over him, one he'd only caught a tantalizing whiff of once before: rum. Spicy and sharp with rich, woody undertones that make M'Baku's mouth water. 

He pressed Ingcuka against the door and kissed him, licking into his mouth to taste him, the smell of the Wolf's arousal winding M'Baku's own desire higher. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of Ingcuka's blue dress shirt as he unfastened every last silver button, needing to see him, to smell, to taste. 

Before he could do anything more, Ingcuka pulled him flush against him, his body firm against M'Baku's own, his scent driving him wild. That first brush of Ingcuka's growing erection against M'Baku's own was so dizzying that he gasped and promptly buried his nose in the curve of the Omega's neck, drowning in his scent and rutting against him, grinding his cock against the Omega.  

"M'Baku, please," Ingcuka pleaded, breathless and panting, a slight quiver in his tone. 

"Please, what?" M'Baku murmured, nuzzling his mating gland. 

"Fuck me," Ingcuka whispered with a desperate whine. 

M'Baku drew back slightly and studied the Omega's expression, wondering at the motive behind that particular request, or demand. It was much more of an order with the way Ingcuka pressed his cock against him. 

It was clear that he didn't expect to be refused and for the life of him, M'Baku couldn't conceive of one single reason why he shouldn't do exactly as Ingcuka asked in this instance. Nevertheless, he hesitated. 

"I won't court you," he declared, firm in his belief that Ingcuka would willingly drive him insane forever. 

"I'm not asking you to court me," Ingcuka said with a contemptuous scoff as though he couldn't imagine being wooed and romanced. "I'm asking you to fuck me."

"You think very highly of yourself," M'Baku retorted, rolling his eyes. "Who says I even want to fuck you, Ingcuka?" 

He was a little too aware of his own body's betrayal. His cock was aching and hard, his balls throbbing with how desperate they were to be relieved. He wanted to fuck Ingcuka. That was difficult to deny. But he wouldn't make it easy for him, not after the way the Omega had taunted and teased him, flaunting his own desirability in front of him for weeks. 

"Do you want me to beg for it?" Ingcuka asked, not sounding at all eager to do that. 

"No," M'Baku replied, shaking his head. "Just knowing that you want me is enough."

"M'Baku, stop screwing around and fuck me," Ingcuka complained, his hand slipping beneath the hem of the leather skirt M'Baku wore. 

He seized Ingcuka's wrist and halted him before the Omega could touch him. Did he really think it would be that easy? That he could just touch his cock and demand to be fucked and he would do it? His eyes raked over the Omega's face, his lips curling into a smug smile. Yes, that was what Ingcuka thought. He was an attractive man. It was likely that no one, Alpha or Omega, had ever spurned his advances. He was about to learn the hard way that M'Baku wouldn't be dictated to like some common Alpha whore. He was the lord of the Jabari and he demanded respect. 

"You don't give me orders," M'Baku hissed, his voice no more than a venomous whisper. "What was it you said to me? You don't take orders from anyone? Well, neither do I."

"Please," Ingcuka begged as M'Baku pinned his wrist above his head, denying him. 

"I don't want you to beg," M'Baku growled, narrowing his eyes at him. "Weakness does not impress me. I don't want you to make yourself weak for me. Make yourself strong. You know what you want. Demand it." 

Ingcuka ripped his arm free, breaking his grip, his expression one of defiance. M'Baku half expected him to storm out of the bathroom, but he didn't. Instead, Ingcuka sank to his knees, right there on that grimy, red tiled floor, his warm breath brushing against M'Baku's bare thighs, making his nerves tingle. 

"I want your cock in my mouth," Ingcuka stated slowly and clearly, looking up at him with steel in his eyes. 

"I told T'Challa it would be this way," M'Baku admitted, not telling Ingcuka yes, but not telling him no either. "I told him I wouldn't be able to resist you for much longer."

"Do you want me to stop teasing you? I can stop," Ingcuka offered with a small shrug of his shoulders. 

M'Baku looked down at him, at those pretty, pouting lips, reddened and kiss-swollen and begging to be wrapped around his cock. He realized then that he didn't want him to stop. He wanted Ingcuka to drive him completely wild as long as he did it with some integrity. He rested a hand on that silken head, his fingers touching that long, soft hair, like he'd been aching to do for weeks. 

He didn't want him to stop. He wanted him to start, to start being the kind of man who could take what he wanted without resorting to shallow flirtations. That was what drove him insane, the fact that Ingcuka pretended to be a vain man, when he clearly wasn't. 

"I want you to do whatever you want to do, Ingcuka," M'Baku said sincerely. "I've seen you. You make yourself weak. You bow to others. You don't take their orders, but you hold back pieces of yourself. You think you'll frighten them."

"I do frighten them," Ingcuka insisted, his expression clouding with doubt. 

"So do I and I'm not ashamed of it," M'Baku declared, reaching down to cup Ingcuka's chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him. "You don't frighten me. If you want this, more of this, if you want me… I need you to be bold. Be a wolf, not a timid little puppy that follows when its master calls." 

He could see a storm gathering in Ingcuka's eyes as the Omega processed his words. He wasn't just offended. He was furious and M'Baku loved it. He could see fire in him and pride. He'd wounded him. He'd kicked the Wolf, but he'd also stoked his fire. He wondered if he was the first person to do that in countless years. Ingcuka had been hiding in his pain for too long. He deserved to have more in life than this. 

"I'm not a timid little puppy," Ingcuka mumbled, a low growl escaping with his words. 

"Prove it!" M'Baku challenged him. "You hid behind Steve Rogers. You hide behind T'Challa now. Who will you hide behind next? Not me. I'll never allow it. I want an equal who challenges me, a man of substance, not a dog who whines and begs and hides under the table." 

He wondered whether he'd ever seen Ingcuka look so angry. The teasing Omega was gone. In his place was a fierce Wolf, practically spitting with fury, fire burning in his eyes. That was exactly what M'Baku wanted, not to wound and offend him, but to challenge him to stop pretending and playing mindless games and start claiming the life he wanted. 

"I don't hide!" Ingcuka snapped furiously. 

"You do," M'Baku responded calmly. "You sit quietly in the Council, ever the meek and mild, timid little puppy. T'Challa's good boy. I want to see you bite, Wolf. I want to see your fire."

"And if you don't see it?" Ingcuka demanded, glaring at him. "If that fire was snuffed out a long time ago?" 

There was doubt in him and hurt. M'Baku could see that. It was apparent to him. He could have said nothing and let Ingcuka choke himself on his cock until he was satisfied, but he hadn't. He wanted more than something shallow from him. More than flirting or sex. He wanted James Buchanan Barnes, warrior, wolf, proud Omega, not wounded Ingcuka, content to beg for scraps like the dog he wasn't. 

"You're not a ghost, Ingcuka," M'Baku declared, their gazes connecting for a moment. "Stop acting like one. You're not a shallow flirt either. Stop pretending you are. You are a man of substance. I know it. Show everyone who you are. Look them in the eye and be unashamed and unafraid of who you are and what you want."

"And if I can't do that?" Ingcuka whispered doubtfully. 

"Then you're not the man I thought you were and you have nothing that I want," M'Baku said disappointedly, shaking his head. "Stand up and be counted as a leader and a warrior or leave. Run back to America and hide… Don't make yourself less for anyone, Ingcuka. Not for me. Not for them. Rise and challenge them to meet you on the mountain. Don't stoop, don't bow, never kneel."

M'Baku took his hands and drew him gently to his feet. There would be no sex tonight. The heat between them had fizzled out amongst the challenges he had issued to Ingcuka. He didn't regret it, even if it meant that he would be sexually frustrated for weeks after this encounter. 

"I know you're more, Ingcuka. Don't disappoint me," M'Baku murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

He pulled away from him and left the bathroom without another word, closing the door behind him. He leaned his back against it, relieved that Ingcuka didn't immediately follow him. His head fell back against the door as he stifled a groan, a single word slipping past his lips: 

"Fuck." 

Either he'd just burnt all his bridges with Ingcuka or the Omega would rise to the challenge and meet him on the mountain as an equal. He could only hope. 

Chapter Text

Bucky

He stood alone in the bathroom of that dive bar for a long time. Then he went back to the bar, drank more bottles of Umqombothi than was good for him, serum or no serum, and went home to T'Challa, smelling of M'Baku and beer, mostly beer. What he wouldn't have given to smell like M'Baku instead. 

T'Challa being T'Challa knew, of course, that something was bothering him, and it wasn't long before Bucky gave in and told him everything. T'Challa's guest, he might be, but they were also friends and T'Challa was kind of annoyingly perceptive sometimes. 

Throughout his account of the words that passed between himself and M'Baku, T'Challa remained silent. He didn't interrupt or ask questions, which made him a great audience, but difficult to read. The king frowned often and odd little looks crossed his face that Bucky didn't understand. It was some five or six minutes after he'd finished telling him about what happened at the bar that T'Challa finally spoke.  

"This is the part where I get lost," he commented, his tone mild. "M'Baku talked to you this evening?"

"Yes," Bucky confirmed, nodding his head. 

"You kissed him?" T'Challa inquired, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement. 

"Yes," Bucky mumbled, his cheeks warming at the thought. 

He slouched lower in his seat beside T'Challa's sapele wood desk, feeling confused and frustrated and not knowing how or why M'Baku was able to make him feel this way. His right wrist itched and he rubbed it irritably as the king moved to stand in front of the fireplace, turning his back to the glowing flames and looking curiously at him. 

"M'Baku was going to sleep with you despite the fact that you drove him crazy for weeks?" T'Challa asked, looking politely incredulous. 

"Yes," Bucky muttered, struggling not to roll his eyes at the king. 

"M'Baku insulted you and called you a… what was it again?" T'Challa murmured with a frown. 

"A timid little puppy," Bucky supplied with a sigh. "Yes."  

It wasn't the worst thing he'd been called. The infamous Hydra agent wasn't a label he'd loved, but being called a timid, little puppy was worse somehow. It was tantamount to being called a coward and that made him angry, partly because he was worried that M'Baku might be right. He'd been hiding from things for a long time now, since Washington DC. 

"Here's my question. Why did M'Baku say that to you?" T'Challa asked quietly.  

"I made him angry," Bucky mumbled, averting his eyes. 

"How?" the king asked, his dark eyes fixed on him. 

Bucky sighed and bit his lip, then shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor, wondering if he dared explain to T'Challa the reason for M'Baku's frustration with him. When he dared to meet the Wakandan's gaze, he found only warmth and concern in his expression and he struggled to find the right words to say. 

"I...I  kept asking him to…" 

"To what?" T'Challa asked with a frown. 

"To... you know…" Bucky mumbled awkwardly. 

He gave T'Challa a look and the king's frown morphed into a slow smirk that made Bucky roll his eyes. He shook his head and got to his feet, scuffing a brown leather boot against the richly carpeted floor. He didn't know what had made him do it. From the moment he'd kissed M'Baku, he'd known he wanted more. That hadn't changed. 

"You asked M'Baku to have sex with you?" T'Challa muttered, not looking even remotely surprised. 

"Yes," Bucky answered, deciding not to go into detail about that. 

"And he said no?" T'Challa exclaimed, almost looking offended on his behalf. 

Bucky stifled a laugh at the indignant look on T'Challa's face. His friend's protectiveness of him extended to his dating life, which meant that T'Challa couldn't even imagine someone rejecting him or God forbid, challenging him to quit messing around and get serious for once. It was sweet. 

"He didn't say no," Bucky said calmly. "He told me he didn't want me to be a…"  

"Timid little puppy?" T'Challa guessed, frowning again. 

"Yes. I think he might have called me a whining dog at one point," Bucky mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "The point is, he didn't want me to beg for it, so he…"  

"Insulted you and left?" T'Challa exclaimed, reached for his claw necklace as if this situation warranted the intervention of the Black Panther. 

Bucky groaned and closed the distance between them, his hand closing around T'Challa's wrist, stopping him from activating the suit. If he sent T'Challa to beat an apology out of M'Baku, it would only affirm M'Baku's belief that he was hiding behind the king. He needed to resolve this on his own. 

"That's not how M'Baku left it," he said quietly. "He kissed me again and told me that I could be more. He… he wants more for me." 

"He doesn't even know you," T'Challa protested, twisting free of Bucky's grip. 

"T'Challa, I think I'm… I think I might be his soulmate," Bucky blurted out and the king froze. 

"What makes you say that?" he asked cautiously. 

Bucky looked at him for a long moment and then closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Opening them, he moved closer to the light of the fire burning in the grate and lifted the sleeve of his brown leather jacket, revealing the soul mark that had etched its way into his skin in the hours since his last encounter with M'Baku. 

"Bast, no!" T'Challa exclaimed, stumbling back with a laugh. "This is too good! Both of you?" 

"What do you mean both of us?" Bucky asked with a frown. 

"I mean that you're both idiots. That's all, James," T'Challa replied, giving his shoulder a consoling pat. 

"Oh, shut up," Bucky muttered with a groan when an unsolicited chuckle escaped the king. "What am I going to do about this?" 

"Talk to him again," T'Challa suggested, his tone gentle. 

Bucky sighed and pulled away from him, tugging his sleeve back down over the mark he'd been rubbing unconsciously. The domed arrangement of mountain peaks and trees could only point to one man: the Great Gorilla of the mountain tribe. The last thing he needed at the moment was a complication like this. 

"I won't sleep with him, T'Challa," he said resolutely. 

"Yes, you will," the king declared, looking disbelieving. "I'm willing to bet you almost did. You thought about it afterwards, didn't you?" 

"Yes," Bucky confessed with a sigh. "I saw him at the border crossing and I almost… I almost went after him." 

"Let him court you, James," T'Challa pleaded, his eyes dark and serious. "Let him treat you with all the gentleness and respect you deserve. Let him hold you. Let him love you. Tell him you're marked… and for the love of Bast, don't give up this time. You deserve to be happy."

Bucky looked at him for a long moment and then hugged him, closing his eyes with a sigh. It felt impossible. Telling M'Baku about the mark was out of the question. He wasn't going to tell him anything at all, he decided. He was going to show him instead. James Barnes was no timid little puppy. 

Chapter Text

M'Baku

He'd been back in Jabari-land for four days and he couldn't stop thinking about him. His frustration with the man had faded, leaving a deep ache in its place and a very different kind of ache to the one Ingcuka usually made him feel when he was flaunting himself in front of him. 

This ache was much more centralized and more pure for that, for the way it consumed him physically and emotionally. Ingcuka made his heart ache. He felt it down to his soul. He was drawn to the man and it wasn't purely physical, not anymore. 

It would have been easier if it was, he couldn't help but think as he rose from his usual nest of furs and blankets. It was cold in the mountains and he couldn't quite help the shiver that passed through him. He didn't know what to do. That was new for him. 

He knew what the Jabari captains would have him do: forget the Outsider and turn his focus to his people. They had problems. Not problems that a Council could fix. He was yet to bring any matter before the Council. The Jabari didn't like interference, not from Bast worshippers and not from Outsiders. 

Perhaps he should consult Hanuman. That was an idea, he thought, pausing to consider. What would Hanuman’s counsel be? Protect the tribe. He sighed. Ingcuka was no threat. He rubbed his shoulder unconsciously where the soul mark was etched into his skin. Protect Ingcuka? 

He cursed his Alpha instincts. The man wasn't even his mate and everything in him screamed at him to keep him close, to bring him into his home, into his very den, to love and safeguard him, to build him up and make him as strong and proud as M'Baku was himself. 

He couldn't just go to him and there were few people he could ask for advice. Ingcuka's Avenger friends were far flung and he would die before he asked the opinion of an Outsider. T'Challa was too protective of Ingcuka as well. Going to him for help progressing things with the Omega simply wasn't an option. 

Then he remembered the other person Ingcuka trusted, who had helped the Omega and kept him close for six months, helping to free him from the puppet strings of his former masters… Princess Shuri. He stifled a groan. He could not ask a child for advice. Especially that one. 

He closed his eyes. Yes, he could. He could ask her. She knew Ingcuka and she knew him. She didn't like him, but that didn't matter. She knew how best to reach Ingcuka and she also knew her way around inhibitors and scent blockers. That would be helpful. 

It would calm things down between himself and Ingcuka. That was important going forward: a clear head. He nodded, his mind made up. He would go to Birnin Zana and speak with the princess. He could tolerate her insults for an hour or two if it helped ease the ache in his chest. 

He set out for the city within the hour, treading the familiar paths with firm steps, feeling resolute in his decision to speak with Shuri… or he did until he entered her lab and was confronted with the sight of vibranium twisted into more different forms and grotesque designs than he could have imagined in his worst nightmares. This was a mistake. He turned to leave, but it was too late. 

“Lord M'Baku!” Shuri exclaimed, sounding absolutely delighted as M'Baku cursed under his breath. 

“Princess,” he said with a very forced smile, turning from a screen display littered with complex equations. 

“What is that?” Shuri asked, reaching to touch the soul mark that was mostly concealed by his silver gray furs. 

M'Baku spun out of her reach and nearly fell as he growled, “I don't want to talk about it.”  

Shrui rolled her eyes. “Fine. What are you doing here?” 

She brushed past him impatiently and M'Baku sighed. He felt unwelcome and out of place in her lab. Probably because he was. He glanced at the Princess, but she ignored him. The message was pretty clear. She had important things to do. He grimaced and decided to get to the point before she had one of her assistants try to evict him from the premises. 

“Your brother uses scent blockers, correct?” he said abruptly. 

“Yes,” Shuri answered, looking at him and frowning as if she wondered what he was really getting at. “There are inhibitors built into the suit and into his kimoyo beads.” 

M'Baku nodded and remarked casually, “We have our own blockers in the land of the Jabari. They don't really work for me though. They never have. But for others, they do.” 

Shuri's frown deepened and she looked at him curiously. “It's probably because you're an unbonded Alpha,” she theorized. “It's a little trickier to inhibit your scent than it is for others. I can custom make some blockers for you like I did for T'Challa if you ask nicely. How comfortable are you with jewelry?”

“Comfortable enough,” he said with a shrug, tapping the wooden necklace he wore, the ring of spears that reminded him of the Gorilla Court. “...but no vibranium, Princess. I stand very firm on that.” 

Shuri had the nerve to look amused by that stipulation and M'Baku growled, the words 'impudent child' coming to mind. He restrained himself from uttering them however, knowing perfectly well that if he insulted Ingcuka and Shuri in the same week, T'Challa would be out for blood. 

“Those are the blockers I designed for T'Challa,” Shuri announced, gesturing to a display table on which several dozen items were arranged. “The first type is a neutralizer to make your scent less potent, the second type emits small nerve pulses that communicate with your glands, stopping them from being receptive to the hormones that control scent production. I recommend taking it off when you sleep though. It's not healthy to shut down your body's natural processes long term in my opinion. Choose whichever you like. They come in a range of materials, not just vibranium.”  

M'Baku settled almost immediately on a necklace of curving silver wolf claws  that made him think of his timid little puppy. “Does this come in black?” he asked, picking it up. 

“Of course. Who do you think I work for?” Shuri muttered, rolling her eyes. “I just have to match it to your chemical signature and we're in business. This one is only a neutralizer, you understand? It will only mask your scent.” 

“I understand. If I need something stronger, I'll ask. Pretty me up, princess,” M'Baku said with a grin. 

Shuri shook her head at him, but retrieved a similar necklace from a cabinet, only in black as he'd requested. She handed it to him to inspect and he raised it to his face and sniffed. There was some chemical residue there, the neutralizing agent that would be absorbed by his skin, he supposed. If it helped, it would be worth it. If not, he'd get to rub Shuri's nose in it. Everybody won. 

“Wouldn't it be easier to just ask Sergeant Barnes out?” Shuri asked pointedly as she swabbed his scent gland, wiping the cotton swab over the receptor on the inside of the necklace. 

“Things are just a little more complicated than that,” M'Baku admitted, reluctantly peeling back his furs to show the princess his soul mark. 

Shuri's eyes widened. “When did…”  

“Several weeks ago.” M'Baku shrugged, like it was nothing. “I take it the mark is permanent?” 

“Very. Should I offer congratulations or condolences?” Shuri asked with a little smirk. 

M'Baku shook his head doubtfully. “Congratulations might be premature. Let's see how this goes.” 

He grimaced when the princess insisted he crouch down so she could fit the neutralizing necklace around his neck. He disliked the feeling of it: kneeling before the princess of the Golden Tribe and the coldness of the metal pressing against his skin. He straightened up with determination. He couldn't wait to see Ingcuka’s reaction. 

He was done playing games with him. No more dominant displays, no more stolen kisses or bathroom encounters in dodgy bars. Just M'Baku, lord of the mountain, trying to discover if his soulmate could learn to tolerate him long enough to actually love him. It was worth a shot, right? 

He had never done this before… pursued a potential mate. They did things differently here in the Golden City and even in the wider world. M'Baku knew that. He lived on a mountain, not under a rock. He knew other people perceived him as the one with odd customs, not the other way around. 

In Jabari-land, if he wanted to court Ingcuka, he would have to wait for the Omega to make the first move. Omegas chose their Alpha and claimed them in the mountain tribe. There was no second guessing among the Jabari. Their Omegas were possessive as a rule and no one was left in any doubt as to which Alphas were spoken for. Nobody wanted to get on the wrong side of an Omega in heat. 

That was how things usually started for them, with mating and breeding… love came later. With time and challenges to a new couple the pair bond grew strong. But Ingcuka wasn't Jabari and M'Baku had a feeling that he'd find some of their courtship rituals too intense for his liking. 

The wider world and Greater Wakanda moved more slowly, in reverse in fact. Love and pair bonding first, mating second. It felt unnatural to him. Yet here he was, standing on the front steps of T'Challa's house, prepared to court Ingcuka in the manner of his people, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, no less. He felt ridiculous as he raised a fist and knocked on the front door. It wasn't the Wolf who answered however, but the king. 

“T'Challa,” M'Baku said, taking half a step back in his surprise, half tempted to hide the bouquet of violets and lilies behind his back. 

“M'Baku, may I have a word with you?” T'Challa asked in the stern way that told M'Baku it was more of an order than a request. 

“What about?” he said cautiously. 

“James,” T'Challa stated, his expression unreadable as he gestured for M'Baku to come inside. 

He leaned against the doorframe instead. Go into T'Challa's house, into the Panther’s thicket? He was no fool. He much preferred the open air to being shut in a room with T'Challa, especially if the two of them were to have a discussion about James. Things tended to get heated where the Omega was concerned. 

“Is this what it's come to?” M'Baku asked, tossing the king a challenging look. “An Alpha pissing match?” 

T'Challa rolled his eyes at him and said calmly, “I'm engaged to Nakia.”   

“Yet, here you are, trying to keep me from Ingcuka,” M'Baku observed, feeling as if he'd scored a point when T'Challa actually growled. 

“You're right,” the king agreed, his soft tone laced with poison and subtle threats. “I am here, trying to keep you… from hurting him.” 

That stung as much as M'Baku tried to pretend it didn't. Something had changed. T'Challa had encouraged him to pursue Ingcuka up until this point. Now here he was, telling him to be careful and no matter what he said, marking his territory around the Omega, assigning himself the role of protector, which was an Alpha's place, M'Baku's place and he wouldn't give it up without a fight. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked the king, his voice low and dangerous. 

“You insulted him,” T'Challa declared and M'Baku sighed, but didn't try to deny it. 

“I did,” he agreed, shifting his weight, unconsciously adopting a fighting stance. 

“Why?” T'Challa demanded, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. 

“Because that man is a warrior who needs to learn to hold his head high and who deserves to be respected, not to disgrace himself in a bathroom like a common whore!” M'Baku snapped, irritated by the king's interference. 

T'Challa stepped forward, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he growled, “Say that again. I dare you.”  

M'Baku sighed, not being in any mood to challenge the king. Deny it as T'Challa might, it was rapidly turning into an Alpha pissing match, each of them trying to lay claim to Ingcuka, fighting over who got to protect him, who got to build him up and who got to decide which he needed more: T'Challa's gentle brand of empathy or M'Baku's fierce passion. Ingcuka, M'Baku thought; it was Ingcuka's right to decide. 

“I didn't come to offer insults,” M'Baku said with all the patience he could muster. 

“You didn't come to apologize either,” T'Challa pointed out. 

“And I won't,” M'Baku said flatly. “Ingcuka can be more and I will continue to challenge him as I hope he challenges me someday.” 

T'Challa frowned. “Haven't you heard of accepting people as they are?” 

“Yes, but that's not how the Jabari live. We challenge ourselves to be better. Where would you and I be if we hadn't challenged each other? Embittered and alone,” he answered himself. “He needs me, T'Challa, and I need him.”  

T'Challa didn't say anything for a long moment, but then he slowly nodded his head, a small smile softening his solemn expression. The mere sight of that smile helped M'Baku to relax and he was suddenly grateful that both he and T'Challa were wearing scent blockers or else it really would have turned ugly with all those Alpha pheromones mingling in the air, competing for dominance. 

“James is not here,” T'Challa said at last. 

M’Baku frowned and then gave a defeated sigh as he said, “You're lying, but it's your house, so… good day, Panther King.”

He turned to go and T'Challa called after him. “I'm not lying, M'Baku. He's waiting for you at the Jabari outpost. He left here late this afternoon.” 

“Should I be concerned?” M'Baku asked, turning back to him with a worried look.  

“Only if you've recently insulted him,” T'Challa said delicately. 

M'Baku stifled a groan and said with mounting dread, “What has Ingcuka done now?” 

“You'll see,” T'Challa promised with a smile. “Good day, Lord M'Baku.”  

He stepped back inside the house then and shut the door, leaving M'Baku standing alone in the glow of a setting sun, his flowers wilting in his hand. He let them fall to the ground and sighed, abandoning all pretense. 

He needed to court Ingcuka his way, he decided, with pleasure and passion expressed loudly and openly. These games were getting them nowhere. From now on, Ingcuka was going to get nothing less than Lord M'Baku, one hundred percent Jabari and one hundred percent committed to mating, marking and claiming him if Ingcuka agreed…

And after that little exchange in the bathroom of that bar, something told him that he would. Perhaps the Omega sensed it too. He would grow to love him. Of that he had no doubt. But first he needed to commit to Ingcuka - body and soul. If the mark that tingled on his shoulder blade was any indication, he was finally ready.

Chapter Text

The Jabari outpost was situated six miles from the border crossing that separated Jabari-land from Greater Wakanda and the Golden City. There were two Jabari warriors present when Bucky arrived, trusted messengers who would carry word from the city to the mountain if the king requested it.

Neither of the warriors acknowledged him beyond a curious look and a grunt of recognition. He was easily recognizable within the walls of Birnin Zana: the king's White Wolf, protected and respected by virtue of T'Challa's status, not his.

It took a kind of courage he had to dig deep for to come here alone, outside the king's protection, subjecting himself to the rule of the mountain tribe as soon as he crossed the border, exchanging a comfortable existence for a new, more uncertain one.

This was what M'Baku had challenged him to do though, to meet him on the mountain as his equal. Bucky wasn't fool enough to believe that he truly was or that the mountain tribe viewed him as such.

Still, he came with humility and respect, prepared to try another way, another life where M'Baku would challenge him to let his past truly be so, never again to kneel, but to stand, stepping away from everyone who'd tried to shield him and into a new identity and a new name, one that the Wakandans had given him what seemed like a long time ago now: White Wolf.

He didn't know what that new identity even looked like. He still felt very much like an outsider as he sat at the outpost with the Jabari messengers, waiting for M'Baku to arrive. He'd made one big change before coming here.

Well, it was probably a small change, but it felt big to him. He'd allowed Ayo to cut his hair short. He wasn't altogether sure that he liked it. The back of his neck felt exposed without the long curtain of dark hair that he could no longer hide behind.

It was a step forward, one that he'd decided to make on his own. When he heard the firm, slapping step of M'Baku's sandals and the tap of his knobkerrie in the entryway, his breath caught in his throat.

The warriors stood at attention, each one beating a closed fist against their wooden breastplates. Bucky slowly rose to his feet, feeling nervous. He ducked his head and averted his eyes before he remembered that M'Baku didn't want him to do that anymore, to hide.

Bucky raised his head and fixed his gaze on the Alpha, registering his shocked expression as M'Baku breathed, "Oh, Hanuman! You cut it all off."

Bucky smiled and said casually, "I figured it was time. They made me grow it long when I was the Winter Soldier. That's not me anymore."

"No?" said M'Baku, fixing him with a hard stare, daring him to look away.

"No," Bucky repeated calmly, returning the Alpha's look with a cool one of his own.

His gaze didn't shift from M'Baku's face and after the most intense staring contest Bucky had ever been party to, the Alpha nodded, seeming a little satisfied that Bucky had at least come here with his head held high, determined to go after what he wanted at last.

But then M'Baku stepped toward him with a steely glint in his eyes and demanded, "Who are you then?"

"I'm your soulmate," Bucky stated unabashedly, standing his ground as the Jabari warriors exchanged a look and quickly stepped outside together, leaving Bucky alone with M'Baku.

"Bold. I approve. T'Challa told you?" the Alpha guessed, but Bucky only shook his head and smiled.

He rolled up the right sleeve of the dark gray topcoat he wore, exposing his scent gland to the air… and something else too: the soul mark that he'd decided to stop hiding from M'Baku. If the man wanted integrity and authenticity, then this was it, the real deal.

"What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly as M'Baku leaned down to inspect the mark and buried his nose in Bucky's exposed scent gland instead, seemingly unable to resist.

"I love your scent," the Alpha admitted, looking up at him with lust-blown pupils. "I could drown in it. I wish I could sometimes."

"I can't smell you at all," Bucky admitted, suppressing a sigh of disappointment.

"Do you want to?" M'Baku murmured, his tone cautious.

"Yes," Bucky replied, his gaze not wavering from M'Baku's face.

The Alpha seemed to consider him for a moment. Then he nodded to himself and set his knobkerrie aside, leaning it against the wall of the outpost, before he reached up and unclasped a necklace that bore such a striking resemblance to short, curved wolf claws that Bucky's breath caught in his throat.

He sniffed the air, picking up nothing that smelled like M'Baku. Nearly a minute passed before a rich note of wild frangipani flooded the air, a softer note of musk accompanying it that had Bucky lunging for M'Baku, wrapping his arms and legs around him in a crushing hold that allowed him to have full access to M'Baku's neck.

He scented him greedily, inhaling lungfuls of Alpha scent as M'Baku said breathlessly, "No sex."

"No," Bucky agreed, content to hold him and to be held, wrapped in the richness of M'Baku's scent.

"Let me teach you to be Jabari, Ingcuka," M'Baku said quietly, with all the tender gentleness T'Challa had promised would be lavished on Bucky if he took a chance. "If you're a good student, I'll take you to my bed… and into my home as my equal. Then when you're ready, should you choose to, you'll mark me, you'll claim me, you'll make me yours, your Alpha forever, your soulmate, your husband."

"Okay," Bucky whispered, loosening his hold and allowing M'Baku to set him carefully on his feet. "Teach me."

He and M'Baku had left the Jabari outpost behind some four or five hours ago. Bucky couldn't find it in himself to feel nervous even as night descended over the craggy cliffs and frostbitten slopes of Jabari-land. M'Baku's scent was too intoxicating for that; it grounded him and made him soar at the same time and he stuck close to his side as they walked.

Rich, flowery notes of wild frangipani wafted past Bucky's nose at regular intervals and he breathed deeply. The mountain lord was clearly happy to be home. It was a feeling Bucky wanted to share; his wonder at the beauty and vastness of the land wasn't something that he thought was likely to be conveyed in his scent though.

He sprang lightly up yet another slope, close behind the Alpha, who seemed to know every inch of this land even in the dark. Bucky could pick out only a few vague landmarks, illuminated by the moon and the wooden lantern that swung from M'Baku's hand, shedding golden light on the rocky ground.

"This isn't quite what I pictured," Bucky remarked, when M'Baku led him onto a rocky flat, shielded from the wind on one side by tall cliffs and ringed with thick clusters of gnarled trees with gray-green leaves and purple berries that M'Baku had pointed out on the ascent, mountain cabbage trees he'd called them.

"Do you think I brought you out here to harm you, Ingcuka?" asked M'Baku, panting slightly from the climb.

Bucky shrugged. "No, but I haven't ruled out the possibility of you hazing me."

M'Baku's forehead creased in the soft light cast by the lantern and he said, "I'm unfamiliar with this term."

"It's where someone wants to join a group or club and you make them do stuff that's embarrassing or dangerous to… show them up or to put them in their place, I guess," Bucky explained, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"Oh. That's not what I'm doing," M'Baku quickly sought to reassure him.

"Good. Why have we stopped then?" Bucky asked curiously, looking around the sheltered plateau M'Baku had led him to.

It was at that moment that M'Baku unslung the large leather bag he'd liberated from the outpost and carried on the journey into the mountain lands. He set it down with a soft thump and cast Bucky a sideways glance, like he was sizing him up, something that didn't exactly put him at ease.

"I said that I would teach you to be Jabari," M.Baku reminded him, his expression turning serious.

Bucky nodded and blurted out, "Should I have asked Shuri to remove the cybernetic arm before we came? It's made of vibranium."

"I know and no," M'Baku said gently. "You are an Outsider, Ingcuka. Nobody expects anything but respect from you. That, I think, I have."

"You do," Bucky quickly confirmed, chancing a glance at the mysterious bag.

"That is all anybody seems to know about us, isn't it?" M'Baku said with half a laugh. "We hate vibranium. Here's what you need to know about us, Ingcuka. The Jabari are survivors. We are the strongest tribe. We are feared and respected."

"Mostly feared, I think," Bucky observed, restraining a smile with difficulty.

"You may be right," M'Baku agreed, his dark eyes gleaming in the glow of the lantern. "Ingcuka, to join us, to court me, you will have to prove the strength of your will. So I will give you a choice now: turn back and go home to T'Challa —"

"No!" Bucky adamantly refused, lifting his chin and fixing the Alpha with a steely glare.

"Or, take this and survive out here on your own," M'Baku said coolly, nudging the leather bag with the toe of his fur-covered sandals.

Bucky didn't immediately move to pick up the bag. Everything in his chest tightened at the thought of being left here in unfamiliar terrain, in the dark and cold, with only his skills to keep him alive. Suddenly, he missed T'Challa's protection and warmth. M'Baku's challenge to meet him on the mountain was more intimidating than he had expected.

"For how long?" he asked cautiously.

"For as long as it takes for you to trust that the lord of the tribe will not desert you," M'Baku said, his calm demeanor reassuring Bucky somewhat. "I must speak to my captains about you and you may as well learn our ways while you wait. All members of the tribe complete this test when they come of age. They prove themselves worthy in the wild. They show us all that they are self-sufficient, intelligent, and resourceful."

Bucky released a long breath. "You want me to prove myself to the Jabari?"

"It's not about what I want," M'Baku said, not unkindly. "We are a tribe, Ingcuka. If one member is not as strong or learned in our ways as the others, we all bear the burden of their weakness and ignorance. If you want the acceptance of the tribe and a place at my side, prove your strength. Ignorance and weakness will not make them trust you, quite the opposite."

Bucky leaned down and picked up the bag. "What do I have to do?"

"Survive and do it well," M'Baku murmured, smiling down at him. "That means finding food in the wild, and shelter, fending off attacks from wild animals and the harshest elements… alone. Only when you're strong alone will you have something to offer the tribe: resilience, resourcefulness, determination… these are things of great worth to the Jabari."

Bucky looked at him for a moment and then slowly opened the bag, pleased to discover white furs and a thick, downy blanket, a decent length of quality rope, a knife and flint and several wrapped packages of dried fruit and nuts, nestled around a full water skin.

He nodded to himself and asked, "When will you be back?"

"I can't say for certain. I hope in a few days, but I trust that you will endure my absence well," M'Baku murmured as Bucky straightened up and slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Is there a rule about how far into Jabari Territory I'm allowed to go to find those things? Food, shelter, protection, hell, more water?" he asked, already trying to plan ahead.

"Everything you need is in that bag… and inside you as well," M'Baku said warmly, reaching out and drawing Bucky against his chest for a moment, long enough for Bucky to breathe his scent in and find security in it. "You can roam our lands freely as the guest of the Great Gorilla, Ingcuka. But you cannot enter any Jabari village except in the most dire need. You also cannot return to the comforts of the Golden City before this test concludes if you wish to belong here. There is food and shelter in these mountains if you know how to find it… as all the Jabari do…" Then he drew back, seeming to hesitate. "You can still change your mind."

"No," Bucky said resolutely. "I'm doing this. I'm… I'll prove to you that I'm more than what I was in Birnin Zana."

M'Baku sighed. "Glory to Hanuman."

He whispered the words to the mountain air, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Bucky's forehead. Bucky sighed and melted into his touch. It was over all too quickly. M'Baku stepped into the darkness outside the circle of light cast by the lantern, leaving Bucky alone in the wilds of Jabari-land with something to prove.

Chapter Text

Four phases of the moon passed in the starry sky above Jabari-land before M'Baku was able to return to the clearing where he'd left Ingcuka. The moon moved from full to a mere waning crescent before he began to search for the Omega.

He'd been delayed, but that was no excuse. He hadn't intended to leave Ingcuka alone for more than a few nights, just long enough to test his resolve and to convince his captains to give the outsider a chance.

But such was the roaming nature of the patrolling Alpha captains that it was more than a week before M'Baku was able to meet with them all, a necessity if Ingcuka was to stay in Jabari-land, because if the Omega caught a captain unawares, the outsider was likely to be beaten and banished before word reached M'Baku that there had been an altercation.

His captains weren't as opposed to Ingcuka as M'Baku had expected. The majority of them were curious about the outsider, rather than particularly distrustful. He would have to prove himself, to earn the respect and the trust of the Jabari, but M'Baku had warned the Omega to expect this anyway.

He found himself missing him on the long nights that he spent waiting for the last few captains to be located and consulted regarding Ingcuka. They reached an agreement at last on the night preceding M'Baku's search for the Omega.

Ingcuka was to be permitted a temporary pass into Jabari lands, conditional on the Omega proving himself by learning to speak the Jabari tongue and conducting himself as a true Jabari.

That meant joining the patrols, helping to monitor stockpiles of food and supplies and journeying to the summit of Hanuman to learn the old ways from the high priestesses, who would teach him to speak Igbo, as well as imparting to him the true history and laws of the tribe.

Ingcuka would be permitted to court the Great Gorilla of the tribe if he so chose, conditional on his participation and contributions to the tribe. No outsider would be permitted to take from the Jabari without giving. Balance was needed for survival in the highlands the Jabari called home.

Upon returning to the clearing, however, he didn't find Ingcuka waiting for him. M'Baku paused, pleased and concerned: pleased not to find the Omega weak and shivering in his absence, and concerned because he didn't know where Ingcuka might have gone to seek shelter from the harshest of the elements.

His captain, Chokojuk, had glimpsed Ingcuka on the fringes of the thickly forested slopes to the north and reported the sighting to him. That had been a week ago though and M'Baku sighed, dreading the difficult search he would have to undertake alone.

There was nothing else for it but to begin though and M'Baku set out for the forest, tugging his furs more closely around himself to ward off the chill of the wind whipping around him.

He walked alone for more than three hours before he reached the outskirts of the forest and ventured within it. The thick, gnarled trunks of trees pressed in closely around him, his eyes adjusting to the dim gloom as he searched for Ingcuka.

It wasn't more than five minutes before he caught a whiff of a familiar scent: citrus, sharp and sweet. He breathed deeply and smiled to himself. Hadn't he told T'Challa that Ingcuka smelled like this very forest? The Omega had sought it out, perhaps instinctively and that fact pleased M'Baku.

His frustration with the Omega had vanished entirely in the last couple of weeks and for a moment, he let himself bask in the feeling of longing for him, secure as he felt in Ingcuka's new commitment to him, to win him as a Jabari Omega would.

The coarse, pointed leaves of the surrounding trees tugged at M'Baku's furs as he journeyed deeper into the forest. Ingcuka had chosen well in coming here. It was sheltered from the wind and snow. There were pools and streams running through the forest and an abundance of wild berries and edible roots to be found.

M'Baku's pride surged, coinciding with a sudden spike in that sweet citrusy smell that had drawn him to Ingcuka from the start. There was a flash of white above him and then M'Baku was being shoved roughly against a tree trunk by the Omega he sought.

Dark stubble bordered the Omega's jaw. His eyes were bright and alert and M'Baku only realized when the Omega scented him, burying his nose in his neck how completely the stink of the Golden Tribe had faded from him.

He no longer smelled like T'Challa, like expensive colognes and luxurious shampoos that only served to cloud the intoxicating richness of his scent. M'Baku clutched him and drowned in his scent, feeling as if he was only smelling him for the very first time.

Ingcuka gripped him with equal fervor, saying nothing and everything all at once. He was solid and strong, his bulk pressing M'Baku into the coarse trunk of the tree behind him. The Omega had looked after himself well, finding enough sustenance out here to keep himself fed and well.

He hadn't given up and fled back to the Golden City. He also hadn't come begging for M'Baku to shelter him. M'Baku smiled to himself at the realization that Ingcuka was every bit as strong and full of fire as he'd told him he was.

When the Omega pulled back at last, he saw that fire reflected in those stunning blue eyes and he almost laughed at the memory of Ingcuka telling him that his fire might have been snuffed out long years ago. He'd known he was lying or else deluding himself.

The Omega who stood before him was a far cry from the pathetic little puppy M'Baku had accused him of being. This was Ingcuka, the White Wolf where he belonged at last and M'Baku was going to be hard pressed not to beg him to stay.

The ridges and fissures in the coarse bark of the tree dug into his back and M'Baku groaned at the sparks of pain flaring through his skin that even his thick furs couldn't protect him from.

Ingcuka drove inside him again and M'Baku's momentary discomfort melted into pleasure as the Omega supported him in his arms, pressing him more roughly against the tree trunk as he thrust into him.

Every movement of the Omega's hips forced M'Baku's back to slide against the tree and he scrabbled for purchase, gripping the trunk behind him with slippery, sweaty hands.

He was going to have splinters and more scratches than he could even count before the Omega was finished with him and he couldn't bring himself to care. In fact, he quite enjoyed the idea of being marked by Ingcuka, though, he of course wouldn't mark him with the kind of finality M'Baku craved, not yet.

The tip of M'Baku's cock smacked wetly against his stomach and he made a weak sound that was more than half a whimper as the Omega increased his pace, his hips striking M'Baku's ass with such force that M'Baku bounced on his cock and whined, actually whined like some Omega in heat.

Hanuman help him, he was an Alpha who was completely at the mercy of his Omega. M'Baku had never imagined it would be like this. Even in his most secret fantasies that had involved Ingcuka riding him into a mind-blowing orgasm, it hadn't been like this.

He couldn't have possibly imagined an Omega holding him up and fucking him so ruthlessly, so wildly and with such unrestrained passion that M'Baku forgot how to breathe normally. He panted and gasped, dragging air into his lungs as Ingcuka pressed in again, grinding against him so hard that M'Baku saw spots.

He gave a strangled cry and came, his cock pulsing, streaking his stomach with wetness and warmth that did nothing to discourage Ingcuka from fucking him until he was satisfied. When that might be, M'Baku had no idea.

The Omega's stamina was impressive and M'Baku sagged in his arms, too dizzy and spun out with the pleasure of his release to even attempt to hold himself up properly.

Ingcuka's grip on him tightened and M'Baku's breath left him in pants and sighs. He was secure in Ingcuka's hold and he even felt small and light, something that was rare for him with his bulkier frame.

He groaned as the Omega fucked him fast and hard, chasing his orgasm now, with no Alpha to satisfy and only the pleasure center of Ingcuka's brain to drive him onward. He stole three more thrusts and then drove in deep and hard, making M'Baku cry out and clench as the Omega filled him with warm, wet, sticky heat.

M'Baku gave a long, leisurely sigh of pure contentment and loosened his grip on the tree, winding his arms around Ingcuka's neck instead and nestling his face in the join between the Omega's shoulder and neck.

Sweet, sharp, tangy orange flooded his senses, diluted with the head-spinning potency of sugarcane and rum: the smell of an Omega who had just fucked his Alpha into dizzying heights of new pleasure and didn't feel an ounce of regret about it.

"M'Baku?" a voice called across the dock where the Great Gorilla was sitting with his feet dangling above the water, lost in the memory of his first time with Ingcuka.

He raised his head and blinked dazedly, watching the king approach in all his black-robed finery. He'd fully intended to spend the remainder of the afternoon gazing out over the water and not thinking about the Omega who'd fucked him so hard he was struggling to piece full sentences together a full three days later.

"You missed the Council meeting this morning," T'Challa announced when he reached him.

M'Baku heaved a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "I know. My apologies, T'Challa, I… my mind was somewhere else."

"What's happened?" T'Challa asked, giving him a concerned look and crouching beside him on the dock. "I thought you were going to work things out with James."

"I did," M'Baku muttered, frowning and shaking his head slightly.

"Then why do you seem so… distant?" T'Challa inquired as M'Baku struggled to form the right words to express what he was feeling.

"We…" he started, hesitating before he struggled on. "That is to say, Ingcuka and I… I don't…"

His words trailed off and he shook his head, doubtful as to whether he should tell T'Challa about what he considered the most private of matters between himself and Ingcuka, not that he could even articulate himself well enough to give anything important away. But then T'Challa gave him a sly look that told M'Baku the king knew much more than he was planning to let on.

"You slept with him, didn't you?" T'Challa guessed and M'Baku nodded, too stunned to respond with anything but truth.

"Yes," he confirmed, then thought better of it. "Well, that's not quite how I'd put it. He's just so… there aren't words in any tongue I know to describe —"

"Bast, don't tell me!" T'Challa exclaimed, his eyes widening. "I don't want to know!"

"I've never had sex like that before," M'Baku mumbled more to himself than to the king, who heard nonetheless.

"M'Baku, what did I just say?" T'Challa asked with a groan, before seeming to change his mind about not wanting any details. "Were you gentle with him? The first time for him since Hydra, you understand…"

"Hanuman, no!" M'Baku choked out. "He wasn't gentle with me. I liked it. Maybe too much. I just… don't know how to feel about it."

He lapsed into silence. He hadn't anticipated any of it, the way it would feel to be with Ingcuka, the intensity of it, the addictive rush that came from being held so close and allowing his body to be so thoroughly used that he couldn't stand without shaking afterwards.

Ingcuka had held him then too and looked at him with such tender, open affection that M'Baku didn't know what to do or say. He ached to be with him now. Every moment that he wasn't felt wrong, like the sun was missing from the sky.

"M'Baku," T'Challa said gently. "American culture is different. Their Omegas are not usually dominant. You need to be patient with —"

"Oh, patience is not the problem and dominance isn't either," M'Baku retorted, cutting the king off with a bark of laughter before he smiled. "I don't know that there is a problem. Ingcuka is everything I could have ever wanted… in fact, he's more."

"You don't seem quite yourself," T'Challa observed and M'Baku quickly shrugged off his concern.

"Don't I?" he asked casually, but then he frowned. "It felt… I don't know… incredible. He… he was so feral for me, T'Challa. I can't imagine what he's like in heat… No one has ever been like that with me before. I just lost myself so completely in him. And I…"

"Isn't that what you wanted from him? I thought you said something to him about not holding back with you?" the king said, concern and confusion flickering across his face.

"I did. I am not complaining, T'Challa. I just wonder… am I enough for him?" M'Baku asked, doubt flickering inside him.

T'Challa only smiled. "I believe so. Yes. If you weren't, he wouldn't have stepped down from the Council this morning. He told me privately that he plans to stay in Jabari-land for as long as your people allow it."

"I know," M'Baku said quietly. "His continued presence in our lands was approved by the Captains of my court several days ago. It's just… I feel this pull toward him now that I didn't before."

He knew what was causing that and he rubbed at his shoulder blade anxiously. Few people found their soul mates and even fewer connected with them with such passion. Platonic partners were far more common, but after his first time with his White Wolf, M'Baku had no doubt that there would be a second time and a third and maybe even a forever.

"M'Baku, I know you tried to fight that bond," T'Challa said with a weary shake of his head. "But it was bound to strengthen the first time that you —"

"I know," M'Baku said quickly. "I just… I'm worried about how far I'll go. I nearly asked him to mark me, T'Challa. I wanted to. What would you do if you were in my place?"

T'Challa smiled. "If James makes you happy…"

"Happy isn't the word, but yes," M'Baku admitted, averting his eyes from the king's face. "He makes me dizzy, but I don't want to stop."

"Then," T'Challa said with a thoughtful hum. "Let James mark you so thoroughly that you never stop thinking about him."

M'Baku almost laughed, but then he saw the sincerity reflected in T'Challa's eyes, proof of the king's genuine desire to see both of his friends happy in each other, and he smiled instead. If he was reading the heat between himself and Ingcuka correctly, perhaps that mark wasn't as distant a possibility as he'd once thought.