I don't own anything except any original character and/or any original plot

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Chapter Twenty-Four: Month Two

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It was a rare day of relaxation for Shuri, Peter and I. We had passed our 'culture tests' including an introduction to the Wakandan language. This was also our last month in Wakanda as we'd be going back to New York at the start of August.

Currently, we were in the screening room, watching Star Wars. Shuri had officially been accepted into the group. Halfway through the fourth one, Peter spoke up.

"Shuri you should make lightsabers."

Shuri perked up, running from the room with a smirk on her face. She returned a few moments later with three short, metallic sticks. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were. Shuri, the young genius, had literally made lightsabers.

"Oh, my gosh they're real!" I snatched one of them from Shuri's hands, igniting it. Purple, nice.

Peter and Shuri released their own lightsabers, and the battle began. The three of us sprinted around the palace, using our powers to our advantage when we could. It was a battle to the death. When our intense fighting reached the throne room, T'Challa watched us closely, shaking his head in disappointment. Though, Okoye seemed to find it quite funny.

"For Narnia!"

Swinging my leg I knocked Peter's saber from his hand, pointing my weapon at his neck. It appeared Okoye's training really paid off. But, I had let my guard down and forgot about Shuri. I felt heat against my own neck and turned. Groaning when I saw the smirk on Shuri's face.

"I win outsider. Wakanda forever bitch."

I deactivated my lightsaber, holding my hands up in surrender. Shuri laughed, cheering at her victory. Peter and I couldn't help but cheer too.

One Week Later- July 26th

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh," I repeated to myself as I shifted in my chair anxiously. I couldn't believe what was happening.

T'Challa had mentioned that in the future, when I was old enough, they could give me my own ship. But in order for me to get into the palace and Wakanda, I needed a distinguishing tattoo all the country's citizens had. That one specifically had different markings to show they trusted me with the royal family. Peter had agreed as well, stating we were in it together.

"You'll be numbed, barely able to feel it," Shuri assured, pulling down her own lip to show us her tattoo.

"I still can't believe Aunt May agreed to let me do this," Peter sighed.

Of course our parents were contacted about the situation. My parents agreed because an inner lip tattoo would remain unseen unless I showed the person willingly. Aunt May was harder to convince but when she was told Peter wouldn't feel any pain she agreed.

"Alright, I'm going to start."

Nodding, I pulled down my bottom lip. The tip of the needle touched, but after that I felt nothing. After a few minutes of tense silence, the 'Official Royal Tattoo Artist' pulled back, telling me they were finished.

"That was the longest ten minutes of my life," I announced dramatically, "You're up Peter."

Peter sat down, tugging down his lip and receiving his own tattoo. It took the same amount of time as mine and I watched in fascination at the process. When both of us were finished we admired the work of the artist.

"This is crazy," I whispered, "Absolutely insane."

"I guess you're officially Wakandans now," Shuri grinned, clapping us each on the back, "Can't call you outsiders anymore."

Four Days Later- July 28

Peter and I were making our way to a cruiser for one of our last days in the lab before we went back to New York to prepare for school. While we were outside the palace, T'Challa passed us.

"T'Challa, king, sir, I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Of course."

"Awesome. (Y/n), you can go meet up with Shuri without me."

"Okay..." I gave the two a confused look, "You know where to find me."

Getting into the nearest cruiser I took it to the lab outside city limits. There, Shuri was just getting off a com call on her bracelet.

"I will don't worry brother. I'll teach her about Wakandan lore, that could take hours. Alright, good luck."

Shuri looked up and saw me in the reflection of her monitor. Perking up, she ended her call and turned to me. Smiling, she pulled out an office chair.

"Today you'll learn about Wakandan lore, the ghost stories my mother and father told us when we were little."

Shuri sprung into a Wakandan horror, similar to those we would tell around a campfire. Story after story I sat through. Eventually, she changed the lighting around the lab, making it fit the mood more. Then, we had lunch and sat around. Shuri showed me the hilarious video of T'Challa kicking his suit, and I showed her the funniest documented moments from my days with the X-Men.

Shuri's bracelet beeped suddenly, and she pulled up T'Challa's call.

"Nightcrawler is coming with a package. (Y/n) is to change and go to the ballroom."

"As you wish my king," Shuri said with a smirk before ending the call.

"Oh (Y/n), thank goodness. I already teleported to the training grounds on accident," Kurt popped up, holding out a package, "From your parents. Hank would like this place. Have fun."

Kurt bamphed away, leaving Shuri and me.

"What's happening?" I nearly yelled, looking to Shuri for answers.

"We're going to do an American thing," Shuri grinned, clapping her hands excitedly, "Colonizers may have awful habits of destroying societies but their schools sound fun."

"They aren't. Trust me," I held up the package, "I guess I have to change into whatever this is."

"Okoye will get you from your room in an hour."

Taking the same cruiser back to the palace I kept the package close to me the entire time. Walking through the halls, it appeared everyone was avoiding me. I didn't even see Peter. Quiet and strange.

When I walked into my room, I set the package down on my bed. Eyeing it cautiously I ripped it open.

"What?"

The dress I bought for homecoming was folded neatly, wrinkle-free. A pair of shoes settled on top. I put on the dress and took that hint that it was a formal event so I did my hair and makeup in the bathroom as well.

With the extra time I had I simply looked at myself in the floor-length mirror in my room. By all accounts I looked beautiful. Perhaps not the traditional model beautiful, but that didn't matter to me, and I knew it didn't matter to Peter. Running a hand over my calf, then my bicep, I hummed. Training to harshly with the Dora Milaje had created prominent muscle lines over my body. No amount of training would ever change my body type, but the muscles were knew and not unwelcome.

Ignoring the all too formal shoes in front of me, I pulled out the converse I was thinking of wearing to homecoming the first time. Pulled them on I took my time tying them, not knowing what else to do.

"Are you ready (Y/n)?" Okoye knocked gently on my door.

"As I'll ever be," I pulled open the door and greeted Okoye with a nervous smile, "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Okoye shrugged and began walking, me following behind. It wasn't until we were approaching the room that we realized where we were going. The ballroom.

"Welcome to your re-do homecoming."

The large doors swung open and I couldn't hold back a gasp at the magnificent sight in front of me. This was better than the school's homecoming, grander. Even without going I understood.

Multi-colored lights were swinging around the room, music played in the background and food lined several tables at the back. The Dora Milaje, Shuri, T'Challa, Nakia, and Romanda were there. Even-

"Ned, MJ, Harry!" The group turned towards me, running over to me and coming together in a group hug. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Peter flew us over," MJ explained.

"Where is Peter? I haven't seen him all day."

"Right here."

I spun around, grinning widely at Peter. He was in his own tux, looking more handsome than ever. He had to dress up more often.

"Did you put this together?"

"Yeah. With help from everyone else. I thought since it was my fault you didn't go the first time, we could make a new one."

"Oh Peter," I pulled him close, kissing his cheek, "You're too sweet. All of this is amazing."

"Yes, yes, you're both cute. Now let's dance!"

Our group spent the night dancing to traditional Wakandan music and American music. Laughter filled the hall more than anything else in the end. Not only that, but Ned seemed to have a mini panic attack when we showed them our lip tattoos. Harry said they were cool and MJ stated that we were now part of a secret society. Even if Wakanda wasn't so secret anymore.

Towards the end of the night, or really, early in the morning- it was hard to tell because of the different lighting- Romanda walked onto the makeshift stage and cleared her throat.

"My son, though you are the king of Wakanda, you are not the king of this celebration. The title of homecoming king and queen goes to the out- to our friends. Peter and (Y/n)."

The two walked onto the stage, awkwardly waving to the Wakandans who were cheering for them. Crowns made of presumably real rare metals and jewels were placed on our heads.

After everyone finished clapping Romanda spoke again, "The two will now end the night with a slow dance."

We stepped off the stage and onto the dance-floor. Ed Sheeran- a classic slow song artist- played. Peter placed his hands on my waist while my hands went to his shoulders. We swayed around, lost in the music and each other.

"Leave room for Jesus!" Shuri yelled from the side, sending a round of laughter through the room.

The music slowly faded out and everything seemed to trickle out of the room. The Udaku family wished us goodnight before we left.

"The scary lady with a spear is going to bring us back to New York," Ned informed us, pointedly looking at Okoye.

"She's an empowered woman, go her," MJ grinned, her inner feminist shining through.

"The General, actually," Harry cut in.

"She kicked Peter's butt every time she spared with him," I smirked with a laugh.

The group shared a laugh before we hugged each other tightly and said goodbye. That left Peter and me to walk to our rooms together.

They had turned most of the lights in the castle off because of how late it was. We walked in little to no light, the dim glow of the moon guiding us when we were in front of a window on the right side of the palace.

"Thank you, so much for all of that Bug-Boy," I smiled, thankful that my flushed cheeks were hidden in the dark.

"Yeah, of course. I mean, that's what boyfriends do, right?"

"Only the best boyfriends," I hugged Peter tightly, "I love you."

Peter seemed to tense up. For a moment I worried I had said it too soon, but when Peter squeezed me even tighter I relaxed.

"I love you too."

Peter and I pulled apart, and I took the moment to look at Peter as the moon shined over his features, shadowing some and accentuating others. His skin glowed in the light, and his eyes sparkled with happiness at our shared confession. Being so close to him, I couldn't help but notice how good he looked in a tux, or how nice his lips looked when he was half-smiling like that.

Our moments together the past were quick, or rushed, or interrupted by something. Fueled by desperation to show our feelings. We never had the time to stand and admire each other the way we were now.

"When did you learn how to tie a tie?' I teased, reaching out to loosen the Windsor knot. But Peter caught my hand before I could touch him, shocking me.

When I looked into his eyes again, they were still sparkling, but there was an intensity behind it that was startling. I had only seen that focus when he was fighting villains. But this wasn't aggressive, it was gentle and fierce morphed together.

For a split second, I mistook his gaze and assumed something upset him. But before I could ask what was wrong Peter yanked me towards him and covered my mouth with his. His mouth was so warm, the caress of his lips softer than I remembered.

The breath in my lungs fled. And it wasn't just because of the kiss. Everything about Peter was consuming me. His gentleness, his lips, the slight smell of the cologne he was wearing. All of it was going to drive me insane.

One of Peter's hands moved from my waist and reached out to his door, pawing the handle to open it. When it finally swung open, Peter pulled back. Allowed a few moments to breathe, I sucked air into my lungs.

"Do you want to come in? We don't have to have- There are other things- I mean if you want we can it's just that we're still sixteen and-"

"In, Peter," I gently pushed Peter's chest, making him take small steps back until we crossed the threshold of his room, "Thank you for being so concerned."

Closing the door with my foot, I pulled Peter back. We were kissing like crazy. Like our lives depended on it. Tentatively, and inexperienced, Peter slipped his tongue into my mouth. It was strange, foreign, and I wondered faintly how he knew what to do so well. But that question was crushed under the understanding of why people described people as melting in books. Because every inch of my body felt as though it was going to collapse.

My fingers weaved into his soft hair, stiff from gel, pulling him closer. My lungs hurt, but I didn't want to pull away. Brief moments of pause and readjustment gave me enough air until the next pause. My heart was exploding in my chest. Everything was hot, too hot. My body was heating up rapidly, flushing my cheeks with color. But Peter was just as hot, I felt the heat emanating from his neck.

I wanted to pull him closer, closer, closer. Until the difference between him and me was non-existent. But my overworking heart clenched suddenly, and it was only then I pulled away. Gulping air into my lungs I pressed my forehead against Peter's. He was just as unkempt.

The clenching in my heart was hesitation. No hesitations for Peter, but with myself. He was right; we were still sixteen, and if we were home, it would be illegal. We had been dating for a few months, only a few months. The time wasn't right, we both knew that, but that was okay. Because with Peter, we would face a world of firsts together, even if we had to wait a thousand years to be together as one.

"I love you," I whispered for the second time that night. The words were new, but every time I said them a pleasant thrumming spread through my veins, "You're perfect."

"I wouldn't say that," Peter chuckled.

"A rare breed of boyfriends are so concerned for their girlfriend's comfort. Never change Peter." We stayed there for a few moments, staring at each other before I spoke again, "Goodnight Bug-Boy."

"Goodnight Blue."