Vacation in Vegas (Part 3)
Warning: this will contain two men in a relationship, I try I try, and there will be cussing not that anyone cares
It was set up for T'Challa, Erik, and the Dora Milaje to stay in Vegas for a week. And they did. A week long vacation included visiting the different hotels on the Strip, gambling at different casinos, enjoying entertainment, going out to eat, and more sexing in the bedroom.
However, the vacation is not over yet. It’s their last night here and T'Challa wants it to be special. He’s been keeping it from Erik for a while and he feels why not do it the night before they head back to Wakanda.
Currently, it’s 7:00 pm and everyone is getting ready for one last night out. T'Challa made reservations for a restaurant at the Paris hotel for 7:30.
“Babe, how do I look?” Erik asks as he comes out the bathroom dressed in an all black suit complemented by black decorated dress shoes, gold near the collar, and his dreads braided back.
“You look handsome, my love. How about me?” T'Challa has on traditional wear from his home country: a black kurti with black slacks, shoes, and a multicolored kente covering his left shoulder.
“You look sexy, babe.” T'Challa takes the compliment as he adjusts his kente, sprays on some cologne, checks his pockets for his wallet, and heads towards the door.
“Erik, are you ready to go?”
“Hold on, let me check myself out right quick.” By checking himself out, he means taking a few selfies in the mirror making T'Challa laugh. Eventually Erik pulls him in to take a few pictures with him before they head out for the evening.
Since the Paris Hotel is not too far from the MGM they decide to walk there. Once they arrive, everyone heads straight up to the restaurant in the replica of the Eiffel Tower. T'Challa checks them in and they’re seated in a private room with the Dora Milaje guarding the door.
“T'Challa this place is nice.”
“I can say the same.” The table is set up in an extravagant manner. A red table cloth covering the surface, the dishes and silverware are set up in the correct etiquette dining format, and the napkin is placed nicely on the plate. A lit candle is present on the table as well giving the atmosphere more of an elegant feel.
The waitress greets them as she arrives at their table with a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice to place in the center of the table along with their glasses. She introduces herself while handing them their menus, asks if they want anything else to drink with the both requesting water before heading back to the kitchen to get their water.
Small talk happens between the pair while looking at their menus. It doesn’t take them too long to know what they want to eat before their waitress comes back with the water, takes their order, and then their menus leaving them once again for conversation.
“T'Challa I gotta ask how did you do this?” Erik asks as he takes a sip from his glass of water.
“This. Having this area set up just for us, getting us a bomb ass penthouse suite to stay in. I didn’t want to bother you with that question, but I gotta know.”
T'Challa takes a sip of his wine before answering. “I have connections, Erik. And not to how do Americans say it ‘toot my own horn’ but when you’re king of an entire nation, you can get just about anything you want.” Erik nods his head understanding what his partner is saying as he takes another sip of water. T'Challa notices the conspicuous look of uncertainty on his face and he wasn’t about to let that go unnoticed.
“Erik, is everything okay?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he stumbles. “I just never thought, you know knowing where I come from, that I would be here in Las Vegas, staying in a nice ass penthouse, and eating dinner in a private room with someone I almost killed, who I would end up loving.”
“Funny how things change this way isn’t it?” T'Challa questions.
“Yeah, it’s crazy. I think about it almost every day, but no matter how much I didn’t like it, I’m glad you spared my life.” A smile forms on T'Challa’s face as he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the food arriving. Setting Erik’s plate in front of him, he can’t help his mouth watering over the prime aged New York steak with olive oil mashed potatoes he ordered. The same situation is happening with T'Challa as his plate of roasted rack of lambs with classic potato gratin is placed in front of him.
“Damn, T'Challa your plate looks delicious,” compliments Erik as the waitress leaves them to enjoy their meal.
“Yours does too, Erik. I can see why your mouth is watering over it,” says T'Challa jokingly as he takes a sip of wine.
“I mean my mouth could be watering over something else, but hey.” That statement right there causes T'Challa to choke on his wine as Erik chuckles under his breath while Okoye runs over to pat the king on his back.
“You okay, T'Challa?” asks Erik once T'Challa is done choking and Okoye has walked back to her position at the door.
“I’m fine,” he answers letting out another cough. “That was just unexpected.”
Erik shrugs his shoulders still laughing to himself as the couple starts to dig into their food.
The night is still young as conversation is still in the air, feeding each other small portions of their dinner is happening, and the romantic atmosphere still lingers in the room.
Towards the end of dinner, the couple is finished with their meal. The waitress asks if any dessert is wanted before they both decline and she goes to retrieve the check.
Unexpectedly, T'Challa grabs Erik’s hand that’s resting on the perimeter of the table and pulls it to where both of their hands are resting completely on the surface.
“What is it, babe?” a puzzled Erik questions.
“Erik, as you probably know I love you very much.”
Erik chuckles a little. “Yes and I love you very much too, T'Challa. What is it?”
“I can’t see myself with anyone else but you, Erik. Despite how we first met and all we’ve been through, we conquered that and I want us to continue to fight against all odds that we should ever come across together.”
Tears want to flow out of Erik’s eyes, but he holds them back. He may have an idea on where this is heading, but he’ll wait on T'Challa to make sure his instincts are right.
“What are you trying to say, T'Challa?” T'Challa releases his hand, gets up from his seat to walk over to Erik’s side of the table, and get down on one knee. He pulls a small, black velvet box out of his right pocket and opens it to reveal a custom made diamond ring.
“I am asking you, N'Jadaka, will you do me honor of ruling along side me as my king and my husband?”
A tear falls from Erik’s face that he quickly wipes away prior to giving his response.
“Yes, T'Challa I will.” One of the biggest smiles ever forms on T'Challa’s face as he cheers mentally and slides the ring onto Erik’s finger. The newly engaged couple stand up and share a passionate kiss as the Dora Milaje, the waitress, and even the chef applaud the couple.
“Looks like we’re not getting any sleep tonight,” one of the Dora Milaje members whispers to the others causing them all to laugh and nod their heads in agreement.
Soon as the couple pulls away, the waitress congratulates them and gives T'Challa the check. It’s not long before he pays the tab and everyone exits the restaurant to head back to their hotel.
“Remember when I said my mouth could be watering over something else?”
“How can I forget about such a statement that made me choke on wine?” T'Challa questions as a joke and Erik laughs.
“Well,” says Erik as leans in towards T'Challa’s ear. “just wait til we get back to the room.”
One of the greatest nights ever for them already started, but these last few words led to what could be considered one of the loudest yet hottest nights of their lives.
Photos and gifs are not mine, but I did make the collage. To add, the food Erik and T'Challa ate at the restaurant actually came from the menu at the Eiffel Tower restaurant in Las Vegas.
Note: I might do an aftermath or some aftermath part(s) to this.
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