#njobu fanfiction

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 21

Summary: Prince N’Jobu meets King T’Chaka’s future new wife first...and his 9-year-old son Erik meets a bit of his mother Califia’s past back in Oakland...

"You make me feel like a natural man, yeah (A natural woman)

You don't even gotta waste time

It's just natural, romantic, yeah

And we don't gotta take it slowly

You could break my body, baby

You're all that I need, yeah

Perfect for me, yeah (perfect for me, yeah)

You're gonna make me feel like I never felt

And fall like I never fell

Care like we never cared

And love like we never will…"

Desire B & Marnino Toussaint – "Never Will"

Umama sat and watched N'Jobu as he ate a full breakfast. The sunroom was filled with fresh flowers from the royal garden and the overwhelming spread of gourmet foods before him actually made him miss the simple breakfasts with his woman and son back home.

Home.

His real home. Califia and Erik. They were his center.

"You are very quiet this morning," Baba said, staring at N'Jobu.

"He just arrived in the middle of the night. Jet lag, my son?" Umama said as she patted his hand.

N'Jobu felt the curious eyes of T'Challa and W'Kabi on him as the boys helped themselves to seconds and thirds of sliced fruit and sweet breads. T'Chaka was equally quiet, but N'Jobu sensed that he was waiting to speak more openly once they were alone.

"I am tired, but I will be fine," N'Jobu said picking up wild honey plum slices to add to the pieces of pineapple already on his plate.

Umama glanced over at T'Chaka.

"We will be attending the Ti'Azan Gallery opening tonight," Umama said. Her tone alone let N'Jobu know something was up.

"I am looking forward to seeing the new artwork coming out of Djata," Baba said.

N'Jobu watched his parents tiptoe up to their real reason for bringing up the gallery opening. They were so obvious that N'Jobu quickly popped a piece of honey plum in his mouth to keep from laughing at them.

T'Chaka sliced into his grilled pork breakfast medallions on his full plate.

"I am too. I hear that Matsimela's daughter will be accompanying him tonight," Umama said.

T'Chaka put down his utensils and stared at his parents with a slight smirk on his mouth.

"Stop it, you two," T'Chaka said.

T'Challa giggled and N'Jobu let a wide smile crease his lips.

"I hear that she is no longer training Dora Milaje recruits—"

"Umama, please. Enough. I know what you are trying to do. I will go to this gallery opening, and I will meet this woman. Is everyone satisfied now?" T'Chaka said.

"Ramonda, her name is Ramonda," Umama said.

"Is she nice?" T'Challa asked.

"Very nice, and she loves children—" Umama said.

"Umama—" T'Chaka said, his face looking defeated.

"I too look forward to meeting Matsimela's daughter," N'Jobu said, trying to rub it in.

"Perhaps you should be looking for a wife of your own, Brother," T'Chaka said. N'Jobu couldn't tell if his brother was being serious or not.

"My work would make that difficult—"

"I am thinking of changing some things. Boys, it looks like you are both done eating. Please excuse yourselves so we can speak privately," T'Chaka said.

Disappointment on their faces, the boys said their goodbyes and left the sunroom. T'Chaka waited a few minutes and then looked N'Jobu in the eye.

"What changes?" N'Jobu said doing his best to make his voice calm and nonchalant.

"Moving some war dogs around, bringing some back home permanently."

Acid churned in N'Jobu's stomach. He wanted to drink the water next to his plate, but he was afraid that his hand would shake if he did so.

"Why?" N'Jobu asked.

"New eyes, new patterns of intel gathering…besides, Umama misses you and I need you to fulfill your true role as my Ambassador. Therefore, it is time for you to return home, take your place as our representative in the world, and get married."

"Yes, I agree. It is your duty now son to be with us again," Umama said.

"I strongly disagree with that plan," N'Jobu said.

Silence.

He had to think of something to say to deflect and convince them all otherwise. He was not expecting this. And Bast help him, surely his brother wasn't planning on him staying there now. Califia and Erik's face flashed in his mind. He felt his forehead crease and his jaw tighten. He told his family not to worry. Told them he would return to them. If they kept him there, if his brother insisted that he stay, he would have to escape from the country, go AWOL, maybe even move Erik and Califia out of Oakland—

"Hopefully you have a reasonable timetable for switching out war dogs. I feel that any sudden changes would cause suspicion—"

"I have already begun the process."

"My intel has been very fruitful and I am embedded in that community fully. If I am removed—"

"All will be handled with a smooth transition. Your Intel has been fruitful and very important. But I need you here with me. Our people love you and I believe your presence here at home can help me turn the tide of dissent."

"There was a vid special about T'Challa turning twelve and they played the old recording of you singing to Bathwandwa when she was carrying him. The social chatter about you lit up the public for weeks, N'Jobu. Our people want to see you more, and your positive popularity crosses all political quadrants. You being here and standing by your brother's side could help all of our people," Baba said.

"This is true," T'Chaka said.

His people.

N'Jobu tried not to show any consternation in his being, but he no longer felt connected to Wakandan people anymore. His people were out there in the world.

"As it stands, Baby Brother, Ambassador Obi tells me he shall retire at the end of this next term and he is willing to start a transition team for you within the next two years. So, continue to do your work well for me, and tonight, let us see what wives Umama has picked out for us this time."

Umama laughed, but when she saw N'Jobu's face, she touched his hand again.

"I should…I should go get some rest. I feel a bit drained, and I need to be ready for tonight," N'Jobu said standing up suddenly and gripping the dining table with his hand to hold his balance.

Two years.

He had two fucking years left to do what he needed to do.

###

"Take your time, JaJa…there you go…there you go…."

Califia pressed the gas pedal of her car gently so that her vehicle moved slowly. Erik sat on her lap turning the steering wheel. They were in their own townhouse complex parking structure. There had been rain earlier in the day, but as the evening came down, there was only a slight drizzle, and no one was outside because of it.

"Not so fast, Mom!"

"I'm not going fast, we're barely moving!"

She held his waist as his hands clung to the steering wheel nervously trying to straighten out the front tires.

"Turn a little harder," she said. When her hands went up to help him, he leaned forward.

"I got it! I got it! Let me do it!"

They both started giggling as he made a wide turn back into their parking section.

"Let's see if you can park it," she said giving the car a little more gas.

"I can," he said.

"You got it, baby," she whispered as he guided the car into their parking space. She put the hatchback in park and pulled the emergency break up.

Erik leaned back into her and she kissed his cheek.

"You did it," she said.

Erik hopped out of the car and she followed him.

It was a good day for them and she was ready for a shower and some dinner.

"Don't forget to bring down your bag of Goodwill stuff. Grandpop is going to pick it up tomorrow when comes over to fix the toilet."

The downstairs bathroom toilet kept running after each flush and her father refused to let her call a plumber when he could fix it himself. He was worried about their income since she wasn't working.

She walked into her bedroom and lifted the bag of clothes she was donating from off of her bed and placed it onto the floor near the bedroom door.

Her laptop was on the bed and she flipped it on. She checked for messages from N'Jobu and was happy to see a taped face chat link. Before she could open it, N'Jobu was already online sending a private chat link to her. He must've been on his computer and waiting for her to log in.

She ran to her bureau mirror and checked her hair and face. Once she felt she looked decent enough for him, after rolling a bit of tinted lip gloss on, she hopped back on her bed and opened his link.

"Baby," she said, "Wow, look at you."

N'Jobu was dressed in an elaborate dark suit with a colorful gold scarf draped over one shoulder. His hair was freshly cut and he had diamond earrings studded in his ears. And those amazing gold slugs were back on his teeth. Moments like this reminded her that her man was royalty and when he was with his people, he showed up and showed the fuck out. Jesus, he was still so fine. She felt herself swooning.

"Califia."

"Huh?" she said.

"You okay?"

"It's you. I mean, damn N'Jobu."

"I'm going to an art show. Not my idea of fun without you," he said.

Art shows. Fancy meals. Servants. Chauffeurs. Bodyguards. High Society.

And here she was going through old clothes to donate and trying to figure out what to fix for her and Erik to eat in less than twenty minutes and hoping their toilet didn't overflow until her father could fix it.

"You look gorgeous. I'm jealous."

"How was your day today?"

"Good. Erik and I cleaned out our closets for Goodwill. We visited Rolita and her mother. Oh, my father is coming over to fix the toilet tomorrow. It started running—"

"Mom!"

Erik's distraught voice startled Califia. N'Jobu's face was full of alarm. She stood up and saw Erik standing in her bedroom doorway.

"What's wrong?"

He stepped forward and her eyes swept his body looking for an injury or something. All he had in his hands was a yellow t-shirt. He held it out to her.

"Oh, JaJa…come here, come here…"

She held her arms out for him.

"What is it?" N'Jobu asked, his face full of worry.

She pulled Erik onto the bed and let him rest his head on her lap. He was crying and Califia held up the t-shirt for N'Jobu to see.

"JaJa," N'Jobu whispered when he saw Lia's face on the old political t-shirt Erik loved so much. He must've gone through his closet again to check for old things he didn't want and found the garment. He had been doing so well. Seeing her face unraveled him.

"Son, look at me. Look at me," N'Jobu said.

Erik shifted his head on Califia's lap and she rubbed his back to calm him. N'Jobu stared at his little boy.

"She's still with you. She's still here with us. Let her have those tears for a little while…then show her how you will carry her within you. Okay?"

She felt Erik nodding his head but a pitiful moaning sound was coming from his mouth and she felt herself beginning to lose it.

BeStrongBeStrongBeStrong…..

"Baba, my chest hurts so bad," Erik said.

"I know. I know. That pain takes time to go away, and Lia doesn't want you to hurt like that for her."

"I want you to come home!"

The high-pitched wailing from his little chest made Califia feel so small without N'Jobu there with them.

"I want to be home with you too. But Baba has to work so I can take care of you and Mom. You have school tomorrow, so you'll be busy…and what about the chess club? Do you think you want to join…?"

The mundane talk of school eased Erik's breathing, and once N'Jobu had him talking about choices of high school and online courses for the following year, their son had stopped crying and sat up from her lap. N'Jobu even had him laughing about his favorite anime and Califia felt her body ease into a relaxed state.

"Feeling better?" N'Jobu asked Erik.

"Yeah," Erik said.

"I'll keep this and you can watch some tv until I fix dinner, okay?" Califia said.

"Okay. Bye, Baba."

"Bye, JaJa."

Erik stepped off of their bed and left the bedroom. Califia heard him head down the stairs. She looked back at N'Jobu and took a deep breath.

"That was rough," she said.

"It will come and go," he said.

She looked at his suit again and reached out to touch his face on the screen.

"I better go cook us dinner. Babe…you really look amazing."

N'Jobu stared at her and in that moment, she felt what he was thinking and it made her feel desired and loved. She broke eye contact with him and just looked at his clothes again.

"I will be offline for a few days. I just wanted to check in with you."

She nodded and saw him look over his shoulder.

"I better get going," he said.

"Okay."

His screen went dark.

Califia sat for a few minutes, quietly centering herself before she went downstairs to cook for herself and Erik.

###

The gallery was packed.

Once word spread that Prince N'Jobu was in the city, many favors were called in for people who desired to attend the opening to see him.

N'Jobu spent most of his time near his parents, escorting his mother whenever his father was hemmed up by supporters and friends. He took one moment alone to grab a glass of honey wine and to check out a small mixed media painting hidden behind a floating wall. The art piece in front of him was intriguing, a depiction of Warrior Falls that shifted its design perspective depending on where one stood. Looking at it from the middle, it looked like the Falls at midday. But if one walked past it from left to right, the sunlight moved as if it were a time-lapse of morning to night. Clever. He glanced down at the name of the artist on the title card underneath it.

"Interesting piece, is it not Prince N'Jobu?"

N'Jobu glanced to his right and noticed the svelte figure of a dark brown-skinned woman with short stylish locs swept to one side of her head. Kohl-lined eyes that reminded him of Califia's feline gaze peered back at him intently. Several thin silver choker necklaces encircled her throat. Her eggplant-colored strapless gown revealed shapely shoulders and the bone-white corset that cinched her waist drew his eye to the high shelf curve of her backside. Great Bast. Who was this?

"It is an engaging depiction of Warrior Falls," he said allowing his eyes to drift back to the art on the wall. The woman's direct gaze without the usual deference accorded him because of his status caught him off guard. He was accustomed to citizens fawning over him if they found themselves in his presence. This woman stood there as if he should know who she was. No automatic bowing or standing back from him, no "Your Highness," or "I shall leave you be."

She stood right next to him. Crept up on him in a stealth-like fashion. He stepped forward to re-claim his ownership of the space, but she stepped forward too and moved a little closer to him.

The hell?

He glanced at her again and then he tapped his kimoyo bead discreetly. Within seconds, Yejide stood near him.

"Your Highness?" Yejide said.

"Yejide!" the woman said rushing forward and embracing the Dora.

Now wait just a damn minute, N'Jobu thought as the woman brushed past him as if Yejide were the most important person in the world.

"Lady Ramonda!" Yejide said, standing stiffly, trying to stay on her task of assisting her Prince, but clearly excited to see….

Ramonda.

Oh, so this was the woman his parents wanted his brother to meet. A possible future Queen.

N'Jobu really stared at her now.

"Do not worry about him, I promise no harm will befall your charge," Ramonda said winking her eye at N'Jobu. He couldn't help by smile at her lack of deference now. She really didn't give a care that he was royalty.

"So, you are the Ramonda—" N'Jobu started to say, stepping forward to get a more proper introduction, but she turned her back on him and linked arms with Yejide pulling her aside, ignoring N'Jobu completely.

"How are you, sister? I have been hearing glowing reports about your work in the palace," Ramonda said.

Poor Yejide let her eyes focus on N'Jobu. He held up his hands freeing her to interact with the assertive woman.

"I am well, Lady Ramonda—"

"Is Ometeko still paired with you?"

"Yes…Your Highness?"

N'Jobu smiled and motioned for Yejide to leave them alone. Yejide bowed, gave Ramonda a look, and pivoted her legs in a severe military turn to refocus herself on her job.

"I remember when she first tried out to be a Dora. So timid. I was not so keen on keeping her in the ranks. But look at her now," Ramonda said as she turned on her heel to face N'Jobu again. She must've read something in his face because she smiled coyly and finally lowered her head to him, "I hope she has earned your respect, Your Highness."

"She and Ometeko, both. Lady Ramonda, is it?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Lady Ramonda Nkoli," she said.

"Daughter of Matsimela," he said.

"Yes."

Ramonda's eyes went back to the art on the wall.

"Did you notice the bit of detail on the waterfall?" she said moving closer to the painting and pointing to a spot near the top.

N'Jobu moved forward to see what she was talking about.

"It shimmers," he said as he looked at the mica flakes embedded in the blue of the water on the piece. His eyes met hers again and he found himself becoming more enchanted with her. All he knew about her was that she had been a Dora for his mother years ago while he was away in London for undergrad studies. She rose in ranks and was hand-picked to leave the Dora Milaje in direct action and to become a trainer for future Doras.

A server wandered into the area with fresh glasses of honey wine and Ramonda grabbed one and N'Jobu replaced his with a fresh one.

"Here's to interesting art," he said clinking his glass with hers.

"And to interesting people," she replied.

At that moment he realized she was flirting with him. Bast help him. All the disregard for protocol made sense now. Did she not know why she was really brought to this opening?

"I am going to check out the sculptures now. Please excuse me," he said moving past her.

"Do you mind if I come with you? I have not had the opportunity to see the sculptures myself. I have been hiding out here from my parents," she said.

For the first time, N'Jobu saw uncertainty in her eyes.

"Why are you hiding out?" he asked.

"I thought I was here to enjoy the art, but my parents…they are trying to set me up…introducing me to someone, and I am not in the mood to pretend like I am interested tonight. Do you mind being my buffer? Just for a little while?"

Now he was really taken in by her. She had no clue what was happening to her, and she unknowingly wanted him to keep her away from some random dude that happened to be his brother. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he grinned instead.

"I suppose I could assist you. You do not know anything about the man your parents have fixed you up with?"

"They have been trying to marry me off for years, and I keep telling them to let me be on that topic. But what I can I do?"

"Follow me," he said turning away from her.

He kept two steps ahead of her as she tried her best to walk next to him. Yejide followed them and when they reached the hall of sculptures, he got stuck for a few minutes greeting some dignitaries, and then he was able to move into the space.

He walked with Ramonda, always keeping ahead of her, and he could tell this bugged her until she caught on that he expected her to stay in her place when interacting with him. She finally got the hint that she was not on his level and he noticed that she made sure to stay at least two body lengths away from him and not shoulder to shoulder.

She was very critical of the sculptures, but the ones she did like, he liked them too. She had a sharp eye for detail and once they began talking about certain pieces, he learned that she was also a sculptor and almost went into art full time before she became a Dora Milaje. They talked and walked and after a time he had to ask her a question.

"Why did you leave the corps?" he asked, curious to know why she removed herself from that career.

"I missed being out in the field. When I worked for the Queen Mother, she always told me I should train up the Doras to be like me. That was such a high compliment. I loved working for her, and I was very happy training future Doras. But now…I actually would like to take a break and explore art again. I rented a small house near the Jabari mountains that I want to convert into a studio. However, I have to muddle through this thing with my parents. I made an agreement with them. They allow me a year of peace to sculpt without judgment of my life choices, and I would go on a few meet and greets with suitable men."

"You are not interested in marriage?" he asked.

"I am. But I would like to take this time to work with my hands in creative ways again. Not just teaching the Doras how to break necks in the most efficient way possible."

N'Jobu laughed out loud, and Ramonda smiled wide. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners when she did, and her lips made her mouth look inviting. How many hearts had she broken when she became a Dora and dedicated her life to the throne? He wondered.

"What are you looking for in a partner?" he asked.

She rattled off a litany of the usual things most people wanted, and somehow the topic switched to food and then politics and then art again. She was delightful and didn't back down from her convictions, especially when it came to opinions about T'Chaka. She didn't even care that she was speaking to the brother of the King. Her biggest judgment was that she felt that T'Chaka kept himself too far apart from their people. His way of ruling was impersonal and off-putting because he separated himself from society.

She was right.

Her eyes studied his face, and he felt himself becoming uncomfortable being alone with her in the section of the sculpture space they were in.

"I need to return to my parents. Shall I escort you to yours?" he said.

She looked disappointed. Her smile faded.

"I thank you for sharing your knowledge of the work here. I wish you success with your own artistic endeavors…"

Yejide stepped forward, and N'Jobu began to feel awkward trying to get away from Ramonda. It was a weird feeling. He wanted to hang with her because she was interesting and had unique insights on how the new art coming out of Birnin Djata really reflected the state of their country, but at the same time, this was to be his brother's possible courtship dance, and Ramonda was acting like N'Jobu had just broken up with her.

"I am sure the man your parents would like for you to meet here will keep you entertained."

Ramonda shrugged her shoulders.

"Hopefully he will be as gracious and as enjoyable as you, Your Highness," she said.

"I doubt that very much, but he can sure try," N'Jobu said getting her to smile again.

"Too bad he is not you," she said as her eyes caught a look at something behind him.

N'Jobu turned to see his brother walking up to them with an older couple along with his own mother.

"Ramonda, daughter, come and greet the Queen Mother, and King T'Chaka," the older woman said.

Ramonda's eyes grew wide, and she glanced back at N'Jobu again.

"Trust me, he is not as gracious or as enjoyable as me. But he will not bore you, Lady Ramonda," N'Jobu said.

"Lady Ramonda," T'Chaka said, reaching for Ramonda's hand.

N'Jobu heard the slight turn of pitch in his brother's voice. Ramonda was not what he expected. As his brother kissed Ramonda's hand, N'Jobu could tell that T'Chaka was smitten already. His eyes were glued to her face. Their mother looked pleased. Like the cat that snared the canary.

N'Jobu greeted Ramonda's parents and then he excused himself. His eyes sought out Ramonda's one last time before leaving. They were still bewitching eyes, her expression letting him know that she was not in a million years expecting anyone like this. And something else was there too.

Disappointment again.

###

Califia stood by the sound system and watched her class of dancers execute her choreography just short of perfection. It was Saturday and she felt a ripple of pleasure course through her body as she enjoyed the feeling of sweat and movement on her own body.

Dante stood in the corner uncovering his drum with his drum corps as they waited for her session to end so that his beginning capoeira class could begin.

"One last time y'all, from the top. Get it in!" Califia yelled as the dancers got into formation again. She saw Erik hanging near his grandfather watching, his right foot tapping in time to the massive beats that rattled the floor.

Califia slid her feet over to him shaking her hips, drawing his eyes to her face as she held out her hands encouraging him to join her. He shook his head while looking away from her and she pranced in front of him doing one of his signature moves that made him laugh.

Dante started warming up his drum. Joining in time to the music on the sound system. The bells hanging above the front door jangled and James walked in carrying his drum bag. Whenever N'Jobu was gone for a period of time, James was always there, watching over them. Dante convinced him to start drumming on Saturdays and James came faithfully, improving his technique.

The music really started rocking when the rest of the drummers joined Dante in playing and Erik finally eased in front of her following her steps. The two of them danced together in sync and James pulled out his cell to tape them.

"Go Erik, go Erik, go Erik…" the class chanted and her son leveled up his moves.

"Whatchu got little boy, huh?" she challenged and Erik stopped and bent his left knee, placing his hands on it and just letting his right-side move, popping his booty out, imitating the girls in the class.

The drums thundered and Califia spun around grabbing Erik's hands and pulling him closer to her.

"Aye, from the top again!" Califia yelled to the class as Dante walked over with his drum strapped to his waist and standing in front of Califia and Erik. The rhythmic hip hop beats flowed easily with the drumming as she danced next to Erik in front of the mirrors. Everybody that moved in the space was on point and when they reached the end of the choreo, Califia cartwheeled into a handstand and then swiped her legs around Erik.

Dante placed his drum on the floor and slid into the action, and Erik stepped back allowing his grandfather to play with Califia too, the three of them twisting and turning, their bodies bending and jumping. James moved in closer with his cell.

"Erik, say hi to your Dad so I can send him this," James called out.

Erik waved at the phone and Califia lifted him up from behind and Erik dissolved into peals of laughter as she twirled him like he was a carousel.

"Califia," James called to her and she looked at his phone and crossed her eyes while sticking out her tongue.

"Hey, babe," she said to the cell.

James turned his phone camera back on his face.

"JoJo, she was saying that to you, not me," James said.

The door bells jangled again and Califia put Erik down when she saw who walked in. He was a bit leaner and his hair was longer, but those deep-set eyes looked the same as when she first saw them when she was fifteen.

"Cedric," she said. Confusion prickled her face and she moved over to the sound system turning off the music.

"Thanks, everyone," she said clapping her hands and walking over to Cedric. The class scattered as the transition from one session to the next began.

"Hey," she said feeling awkward, especially in front of Erik who was watching Cedric curiously. Cedric stepped into her personal space and held out his hands for a hug, and she gave him one, making sure not to act overly familiar with him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Had a layover, decided to see if this place was still here—"

"Mom," Erik said handing her bottled water and standing right next to her.

Cedric looked at Erik when he heard "Mom" and a smile appeared on his face.

"Hey there, what's your name?" Cedric asked.

"What's yours?" Erik tossed back.

Califia stared at her boy and Cedric chuckled.

"Fair enough. I'm Cedric," he said holding out his hand.

"Erik," her son said shaking the man's hand.

"Strong grip young man," Cedric said.

Erik looked up at her face and Califia could really sense the internal interrogation going in Erik's head.

A layover in Oakland? She didn't believe that for one minute.

"How long is your layover?"

"Just a few hours. Just took a chance and…well here you are."

"Hi," Dante said sticking out his hand toward Cedric, "I'm Dante, her father."

"How's it going, sir? I know Califia from Martha's Vineyard. Grew up with Bakari."

"Yeah…oh, yeah, okay. Glad to meet you. Excuse me, I have a class to start. Califia, I can get Eugene to do the drum for me."

"Erik, do you mind helping Grandpop while I talk?" Califia said.

She could tell Erik didn't want to, more interested in this strange man talking to her. She wondered if his father told him to act like this while he was gone.

"Erik?" she said again and her son stepped away from her and reached for Dante's drum on the floor and moved it back with the other drummers.

Califia had Cedric follow her to a back section that had folding chairs set up. They seated themselves and Cedric surveyed the space. He looked back at her as Dante's students trickled in and began warming up on the floor.

"So…motherhood really agrees with you, Cali. You look great," he said.

"A little heavier," she said touching her stomach.

"It fits you," he said as his eyes glossed over her short leggings and tank top.

"I saw you and your son tearing it up through the window. That was pretty cool."

Cedric's eyes went to her naked ring finger and then glanced over at Erik again.

"Yeah, he's a great kid. Takes after his Dad a lot, so the two of them together can be a little crazy," she said letting him know Erik's father was in the picture.

"I just wanted to see you again. You don't really do personal social media, but I saw the website for here, and so…you know…"

She looked at his left hand and saw a wedding band.

"Married, huh?"

"Divorcing."

"Sorry to hear that."

"You?"

"I'm with Erik's Dad. Going strong," she said.

"I have two daughters and a son," he said.

"Oh, wow. You've been busy," she said laughing, "Pictures?"

He pulled out his phone and showed a family photo. Good-looking children. His wife…ex-wife, looked how she always imagined the woman he would end up with would look like. Conservative and perfectly coiffed hair. Good make-up. Body still trim. Children miniature versions of them both. Classy and safe. The oldest girl looked to be about seven.

"You keep up with Albert?" she said.

"He's still single. Has a son with a woman in Maryland."

Califia watched Erik keep the lead drum beat in place of her. They watched her father lead his class in basic moves.

She wondered if Cedric came looking for her to see if he could get next to her again since he was divorcing. She kept her personal stuff off of social media for N'Jobu's sake. The things she did have online were private and open to only a tiny number of people.

"Can I take you and your son out to eat?"

She had to admit she was curious about him. Curious about the goings on back in Oak Bluffs.

Free food for her and Erik and a distraction from missing N'Jobu.

Why not?

###

"But if Godzilla is a replicant and can regenerate whenever he wants to, why would they stay on the planet? They can't kill him, so why not go to a new planet?"

Cedric looked confused and starving for the answer to his question. Erik twirled his fork in his hand and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Because it's the only planet that can sustain life and they lost all their tech and can't rebuild their ship," Erik said.

Califia savored the French onion soup she ate along with her ribeye steak. Erik enjoyed a gourmet hamburger with sweet potato fries along with Cedric who ordered the same thing. Erik had been a little stand-offish with Cedric as he sat between them, but once Cedric mentioned that his daughter was into the new Godzilla animated series, Erik's eyes perked up and they discussed the show non-stop.

"But if the monster planet has the resources to create metal and a lot of their housing, why couldn't they re-build their ship too?"

"I don't write the show, I just watch it," Erik said and Cedric burst out laughing making Erik smile.

Cedric glanced at Califia, and she just shook her head.

"I need to use the restroom," Erik said.

Califia scooted over and allowed him to leave.

"Is he okay by himself?" Cedric said.

"Trust me, no one is going to snatch up my son if they know what's best for them. Thank you for asking though."

"This is nice," he said.

"It was good hearing about folks back east, Thank you for this meal too."

"Erik is…Erik is really sharp. His vocabulary and the way he thinks…school must be a breeze for him."

"He doesn't attend a traditional school for most days. He starts high school next year."

"High school? Holy shit. At 9?"

"Yep. It's a struggle keeping him grounded. His mind and ideas are so far beyond what traditional schools can do for him. He'll probably start college when he's twelve. His father and I are trying to figure out how to balance it out. It's hard keeping up with him sometimes."

"My eyes did glaze over a bit when he was talking about his science experiments at home when we were driving over. Half the time I didn't even know what he was talking about. Tetrach…tetris dee…parrodox?"

"Tetrachlorodibenzoparadioxin. Don't let it scare you. It's the chemical toxin made from wood burning. He's trying to figure out a way to clean the air when we get all these wildfires in California every year."

"Well, my kids are trying to figure out how to dress themselves neatly on their own. Yay."

Califia chuckled.

"Trust me, Erik is still a little kid himself in a lot of ways."

"I always wondered what a child from you would be like. It's you, but extra helpings."

They laughed together.

Erik returned with his own cell phone stuck to his ear. When he approached the table, he handed his phone to Califia.

"It's Baba," Erik said.

Califia's face froze.

"Could you excuse me for a moment? Erik, finish your food."

Califia moved from the table grabbing her purse and walking into the restaurant lobby. She glanced at her phone in her purse and saw that she missed three calls and a private face chat from N'Jobu. Erik probably blabbed about their meal with Cedric. She took a breath and tried to sound cheery.

"Hey! How are you?"

"Cedric?"

"Yeah. He had a layover and came around to the studio and saw us there. He's treating us to dinner before he goes back to his wife and kids."

She could've said home or family, but she wanted to soothe her man because she already knew his mind was racing in the wrong direction.

"Everything good on your end?" she said glancing over to their dinner table. Erik was chatting with Cedric and Cedric had a big grin on his face while listening.

"How long is his layover?"

His voice was tight. Dammit. They hadn't spoken in two weeks, Just emails and pre-recorded video messages.

"He has to leave within the next hour."

"Face chat me on our private line when you get home."

'N'Jobu, don't trip."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice."

"He just shows up out of the blue?"

"He had a layover and remembered the studio—"

"He's not Bakari or Soliel, or one of your college buddies from way back—"

"We're just having dinner and catching up. I knew him as a kid. We know the same people I grew up with—"

"You had a relationship with him. A sexual one. I'm never going to look at him like he's just an old homeboy."

"Ohmigod, is this going to be a big deal? Is it? Let me know now so I can hang up. I would think you would be happy to hear my voice and know that I am doing well. Getting out of the house and doing things with Erik. Who is doing great by the way. But since you are so worried about old dick—"

"Alright, alright. Chill—"

"You chill. Why are you so uptight? What did Erik tell you?"

"He said your old boyfriend took you two out for dinner."

"Old boyfriend? How did he know that? Did you tell him that?"

"No, so he must've picked up on something between you two that was pretty obvious—"

"All we are doing is talking and eating. He's telling me about his children, I'm telling him about Erik and you."

Silence.

She rubbed the side of her neck. Together for almost ten years as a family, and this man could still make her feel guilty for no reason.

"Finish your meal and get back to me when you can," he said.

Her jaw clenched.

"Califia?"

"Okay."

She hung up on him.

###

Umama was really pulling out all the stops for Ramonda.

An elaborate dinner outside on the moon observation deck high above the palace. The best wines from the family wine vault. The entire Udaku royal family decked out in clothing reserved for state functions. Two council elders in attendance.

N'Jobu ate his food and tried his best to appear pleasant, but he was upset. When Califia didn't answer her phone the previous day, he went to his go-to number which was his son. He caught Erik washing his hands in the bathroom with a video chat.

"Where are you?" N'Jobu had asked not recognizing the facilities.

"Mom's old boyfriend is treating us to dinner."

Erik said it so easily that N'Jobu thought he misheard for a second. Who the fuck was feeding his wife and son at a fancy restaurant?

Erik spilled the beans, describing the man, saying his name, and giving his keen observational skills. When Califia denied telling Erik the extent of her relationship with Cedric, N'Jobu wondered what they had done to tip Erik off to something sexual in nature to make him conclude that Cedric was more than a simple old friend.

When she hung up on him, he let his anger and resentment settle and he searched deep within to figure out what upset him so much. She said the man was married and had children. He had to take into account that he was once engaged to Zinzi, had sexual contact with her, and they were still good friends and he saw her once a year back home. Cedric hadn't been around for ten years. N'Jobu suspected that something was amiss in Cedric's marriage to make him go out of his way to see Califia. N'Jobu could only remember that horrible moment a long time ago when he sought out his woman and he saw her screwing Cedric hard inside their home. Screwing her like she was the breath Cedric needed to survive in the world. Saw that man's dick thrusting into his love and she liked it.

He could feel his body yearning for Califia in that terrible way it did whenever he was in Wakanda. And knowing that other man was in her vicinity, eating with his own child no less, it made N'Jobu rigid and ready to fight.

He concentrated on his brother.

T'Chaka was charming and funny and for a pleasant moment, he was almost his old self, acting the way he did when Bathwandwa was alive. Ramonda was drawing his good qualities back out. It had only been two weeks, but N'Jobu knew that his brother was in love. Ramonda cut the King no slack, and she didn't mince words if she disagreed with T'Chaka, and this made Umama smile so hard.

Although he didn't know Ramonda well, he could tell that she was liking T'Chaka. Maybe more than just like him.

The first dinner she had been invited to at the palace, with her parents in attendance, she had cornered him during the after-dinner libations and punched him in his arm.

"You knew everything," she said.

"I did, but I didn't know it was you until you harassed me."

"Harassed you?"

"All up in my face. Not giving me peace to contemplate art by myself," he teased. Those sharp eyes of hers made him feel strange again.

"I was so embarrassed," she whispered, "you were making fun of me."

"I was not!"

"Lower your voice," she hissed.

He lowered it, "I was minding my business…wait, why am I lowering my voice in my own home?!"

Ramonda rolled her eyes at him and left him standing with a glass of port in his hand. T'Chaka had glanced their way and N'Jobu decided to check in with him. His brother's eyes questioned the private conversation between himself and Ramonda.

"Your intended is angry with me," N'Jobu said.

"My intended? We are simply in the preliminary—"

"Stop. This is me, your brother. I know you. You are taken with her. Just pick a date and let us end this tiresome charade."

Ramonda walked over to them.

"Welcome back Queen Ram—"

T'Chaka thrust his elbow into N'Jobu's side, and N'Jobu felt a bit of wind get knocked out of him before he could get all his words out.

"I hope the dinner was satisfactory," T'Chaka said, and N'Jobu stood there enjoying the tinge of desperation in his brother's voice trying to impress Ramonda.

"It was wonderful, Your Highness. Thank you for inviting me and my parents. My mother wants the recipe for the pheasant crepes."

"And she shall have it," T'Chaka said.

Dear Bast, this was painful for N'Jobu to watch.

"What is wrong with your face?" Ramonda asked.

N'Jobu glanced at his brother first then looked at Ramonda.

"Nothing is wrong with my face—"

"You look like you are in pain," she said.

"I think Umama would like to see me…" N'Jobu said looking for an out.

"No one is looking for you," she said.

"Then I will look for someone," he said.

"Did your brother tell you how he made fun of me?" she said.

T'Chaka glared at N'Jobu.

"Hey…" N'Jobu said.

"Shall I have him arrested for you? I can place him in isolation from the fireworks if you would like."

"Fireworks?" She questioned.

A loud explosion erupted from outside and T'Chaka held out his elbow for her.

"Right on time," T'Chaka said as Ramonda took his arm.

"Thank Bast," N'Jobu said and Ramonda flipped him off without looking as N'Jobu walked behind the two of them.

"Ramonda!"

Ramonda's mother's voice called out from clear across the room.

"Sorry, Mother," Ramonda said.

N'Jobu grinned and Ramonda stuck her tongue out at him making him laugh.

This woman.

She could very well save T'Chaka.

Everyone congregated on the observation deck balcony and watched the fireworks that burst in fiery rainbows of color over the city.

"Are you celebrating something?" Ramonda asked T'Chaka.

"You," T'Chaka said, and Ramonda's eyes became coquettish. Had N'Jobu and the others not been present he was positive his brother would've kissed her.

The blossoming romance right before him made N'Jobu miss his Califia and his son. They should be there with them all watching the extravagant light show that was only happening because his brother was beholden to a woman that could probably bring him to his knees. N'Jobu knew that feeling well and welcomed it. Wholeheartedly.

"Prince N'Jobu."

N'Jobu glanced across the table and saw Ramonda's cousin Allem staring at him.

"Yes?" he said to the woman. Allem's full lips were stained red like the wine they drinking.

"Will you be attending the Star Light Ball this year?" she asked.

"I will be there," he said trying to remember the reason why Ramonda's cousin was there. Oh yes, a potential mate for him. Two more weeks and he could get on a plane and jet home. Hopefully.

Allem looked thrilled that he said he was attending the ball. He skipped it the previous year but felt it was best to go this year to stay the obedient younger Prince. Play his role until he could be away from the palace.

His kimoyo beads lit up. The signature was from Jax.

N'Jobu sent a quick message that he would meet his boys at Quantum, the new private bar outside of Djata. He needed a break.

When the formal dinner was over, N'Jobu left the guests and fled as discreetly as he could to his suite. He dressed down in jeans and a plain designer pull over, then hit a private chat line to try and catch his woman. She had ignored his apology texts and just let Erik touch base with him after their dinner with Cedric. Califia didn't answer, so he checked Erik's line. His son was connected. He made small talk, discussed school but then he seized the moment to pump information out of Erik.

"JaJa, what made you say that Cedric was Mom's old boyfriend?"

"I could tell."

"How?"

"I just could."

"Be specific."

The face chat they had was private, Erik was in his room and Califia was downstairs watching tv.

"Are you upset about this, Baba?"

"No. I'm just curious how you could figure that out without your Mom or I telling you that information."

Erik stared at N'Jobu for a moment.

"You don't like Cedric," Erik said.

"I don't know him. I have never met him."

Awkward silence. Erik was feeling out the situation, and even five thousand miles away, his boy could tell the truth. His eyes broke away from N'Jobu's.

"His voice," Erik said.

"His voice?"

"And his eyes."

"Help me understand, JaJa. Really, I'm just curious."

"He looked at Mom and talked to her the way you do. And you love Mom. So I knew he loved Mom too before he had a wife and kids."

N'Jobu gave a deep sigh.

"Baba," Erik said, his eyes contemplative and a bit guarded.

"Yes, my Son."

"Mom didn't talk to him or look at him the way she does with you."

N'Jobu gave his son a wide smile.

There was a knock on Erik's door. Califia walked in. When she saw N'Jobu's face she stopped moving.

N'Jobu felt his heart open up for her.

"Hey," she said, her eyes glancing at Erik.

N'Jobu held his hands under his suite desk and shot off a quick message to Jax that he would be late joining him.

"Can I tell you both a story?" he asked.

Erik's eyes lit up and N'Jobu watched Califia's body language.

"Sure," she said when she saw how eager Erik was.

N'Jobu needed to tell her in the stories of his people how he was feeling. He could tell she didn't want to have a private talk with him, but he wanted to connect with them both.

Erik picked up his laptop and carried it over to his bed. It was almost the afternoon there and a Sunday. Perfect. Sunday was always their family day of rest.

Califia crawled on the bed next to Erik and he watched their son lean back into her.

"I want to tell you the story of Entabeni and Sekmet. It is how a God from one world traveled across the heavens and saw his great love, a Goddess from another world, and did whatever he could to be with her, no matter what. And despite the fact that he was a jealous God, stubborn, quick to make assumptions…a ridiculous deity really, his heart was in the right place and needed to be with her for eternity."

Califia gave him a sly look.

"Baba, you're not good at disguising this story. You're talkin' about you and Mom," Erik said.

"Am I?"

"It's so obvious," Erik said crossing his arms.

"I am quite sure that this is an ancient story I heard from my own Baba when I was your age. Hmmm. Maybe I should choose another one-?"

"No, we want to hear this one!" Erik said glancing up at Califia.

"Yes, we want to hear this story," Califia said leaning her head back against the headboard.

Erik's eyes looked deep into his mother's and then he scooted his face closer to the laptop screen.

"Baba…"

"Yes, JaJa," N'Jobu said.

"Mom has that look in her eyes and that sound in her voice. The way you do it."

Califia looked at both of them confused.

"That is good, my Son. Very good."

He spun the tale for them. And his heart eased. No worries about Cedric. No worries about T'Chaka keeping him in Wakanda. No worries about what he had to accomplish while he was in his home country to secure a cache of vibranium.

At this moment, his very own Sekmet made him whole and kept him in her world. That was all that mattered.

Chapter 22 HERE.

#prince njobu #black panther #black boys bloom thorns first #blackpanther #erik kilmonger #erik stevens #Prince njobu smut #njobu smut #marvel cinematic universe #njobu #killmonger #erik killmonger #black panther smut #njobu fanfic #njobu fanfiction #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 18

"See she's telepathic Call it black girl magic Yeah she scares the gov'ment Deja Vu of Tubman

We go missing by the hundreds Ain't nobody checkin for us Ain't nobody checkin for us…"

"Blk Girl Soldier" – Jamila Woods

The morning is a whirlwind of activity and excitement.

Negra Lia and her entire family had a catered breakfast at her parent's house near the polling site where the family would cast their votes. N'Jobu watched Erik prance around in his new t-shirt and new black khakis. Califia untwisted his hair and let him rock a 'fro to match hers. Erik was a Mama's boy, and N'Jobu couldn't fault him for it. Especially when your mother was a badass.

A priest from the local church came by the house and gave Lia a blessing prior to everyone tucking into the gourmet breakfast. A TV played in the background and everyone caught the news coverage of polling stations having long lines. Lia had captured the imagination of the young, Black, disenfranchised, working poor, and the queer community. Although it was just the city council, N'Jobu sensed that the people in the community saw Lia as their champion, that perhaps with her unapologetic Blackness and her support for them and their needs, that real change was a possibility. She was a local girl who made good. City council was just the start. The energy pouring out in the streets and on TV was just the beginning of a new day in Sao Paulo politics. Axiel and other supporters were sponsoring carpools to help get people in the favelas to their polling places. Lia looked happy but also worried. When she stepped outside to get some air, N'Jobu followed her.

"How are you holding up?" he asked while sipping on orange juice.

Lia's eyes were coal black, the eyes of someone who could take the world by the throat and shift it on its axis. Her hair was wrapped in a yellow headwrap and the shade of raisin brown lipstick she wore complimented her glowing skin.

"I'm feeling the pressure," she said.

"You have this on lock," he said.

"I don't want to disappoint them if I don't win. They all have their hopes and dreams pinned to me, and I can't fail them again," she said. For the first time, her eyes looked vulnerable and unsure. He moved closer to her.

"No matter what, you have inspired the people around you to strive for more power to help themselves. All these young people…they are on fire."

"I hope they can carry on and stay invested in politics if this doesn't go the way they want."

"They will."

Lia gave a deep sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.

"The problem we have is waiting for some great savior to come down and fix everything. There can't be one leader. There have to be many, in all communities…when we put our hopes into one person we often get into trouble."

"What would you like to see happen?"

Lia glanced out at the street and clasped her hands in front of her thighs.

"Black strongholds all over the world. Many leaders…many women…. running communities and connecting together, sharing ideas on what works and doesn't work to help us move forward as a people. Less in-fighting and power grabbing or even clout chasing…."

She spoke in Portuguese for a second to find the right English word and then she stared at N'Jobu.

"I want heaven on earth for all of us right now. No more struggling just to survive. We need to thrive and flourish. All of us in the diaspora…on the continent from where we came from too. Free education, free healthcare, affordable housing for all…prison reform and then abolition. Transformative justice. That is my dream…no, those are my goals."

"Big goals."

She smiled and tapped her head.

"Ah, but if we put our mind to it, we can do it. I just have to play my part. Right now, city council…next time something bigger."

She shook her hands with nervous energy. "We should go to the polls now," she said.

N'Jobu took her hand and squeezed it. He spoke to her in Wakandan and her eyes glanced at his lips for a second when she heard him give a click with his tongue.

"What did you say?"

"I'll tell you after you win," he teased. She gave him a playful tap on his shoulder and he followed her back inside the house.

"Are we ready to leave?" She asked everyone inside. Her boyfriend Oscar grabbed his car keys and everyone divided up into the car groupings they would go in over to the polls. N'Jobu and his family were riding with Lia's parents in their minivan. Their small caravan pulled out and N'Jobu could feel Erik's excited energy as he sat next to him. Califia chatted with Lia's parents and N'Jobu watched the scenery out of the car window.

"Mom told me you have to leave early," Erik said. They were sitting in the back of the mini-van.

"I do."

"Why?"

"Some things came up at work and I have to solve some problems there."

Erik's eyes went to his beads.

"Mom looked sad when she told me. Are you guys okay?"

N'Jobu was taken aback by his question.

"What made you ask that?"

He shrugged.

"Mom looks happy most of the time, but this morning she kept looking at you and…I dunno…she looked kinda sad. Did you have a fight last night, Baba?"

N'Jobu glanced up toward the front of the minivan. Califia and Lia's parents were busy speaking loud Portuguese and ignoring the back of the car.

"No. We didn't have a fight. She is sad that I can't go to the museum with you on Friday. She likes us all being together and she doesn't want me to miss Aunt Lia winning."

Erik smiled.

"Auntie Lia is going to be a President one day."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Erik's nose scrunched up as he thought about the question. He looked like Califia at that moment.

"A computer designer and programmer with my own company. Or an architect."

"Hmmm, I thought maybe you might want to be an archeologist or a scientist—"

"Oh yeah, those too."

N'Jobu rubbed his son's head. His brilliant little boy.

"You can be whatever you want to be, my Son."

The minivan pulled into the parking lot of an elementary school. N'Jobu saw that the line to vote wrapped around the building. He slipped on his dark glasses and pulled a baseball cap on his head. There was a news crew waiting by the entrance. N'Jobu hung back behind the reporters and out of the way, blending in with the background. Two male news reporters thrust mics in front of Lia's face, cameras bright and close.

N'Jobu didn't know what they were saying, but he was sure it had to be about her casting her vote and her hopes for the outcome. Califia and Erik stood to the side with Marisol and Aunjanue.

Lia's parents, Soliel, and her friends stood in line to cast their support and Lia herself was filmed being escorted into the polling booth directly so she could vote. It didn't take her long to go inside the private booth and make her choices. When she came out, she flashed the peace sign on both hands and the crowd of people waiting in line clapped. Lia walked to the end of the line to join her family. Califia left Erik with Aunjanue and Marisol and sauntered over to the background where he was standing and watching. She clasped her hand in his.

"This is it," she said.

He nodded.

"Oscar said he can give you a ride to the airport tomorrow."

N'Jobu put his arm around her and pulled her in tight so that she was against his chest. He kissed her forehead.

"Lia is lucky to have you rooting in her corner. I saw all the work you put into helping her campaign. Organizing the young people, working on her social media and every little detail to make this a success. This is a win for you too."

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I wish I didn't have to go," he whispered to her.

"We'll be back in Oakland with you soon enough."

She tilted her head up and puckered her lips. He kissed her and felt her body relax against him.

They both turned to watch the voters make their way through the line.

N'Jobu thought of Califia's work in Oakland. He thought of her activism there and the need she had to change what was around her. It mirrored Lia in so many ways. Soliel was the same way, her activism focused on protecting the fragile same-sex rights that had been hard won since she had married Aunjanue and gave birth to Marisol. For N'Jobu, it felt like an unfair burden to carry. These women could not live comfortable lives or even live for themselves without external pressure encroaching on their right to life and liberty. They couldn't be happy unless all were happy.

He hated to admit that he wished Califia didn't use so much of her time worrying about others when they were first reunited. But it was the thing that made her who she was. If she weren't that way, how different would she be? Would he have fallen in love with her?

The first time he had ever saw her was in the middle of her bursting into a room bringing a righteous energy to a crowd and encouraging them to protest a racist writer. If she had been a typical university student talking to him about her classes and who made the best coffee for cramming sessions, he may have overlooked her. But she came in like the fire of Sekmet with her form-hugging biker clothes and daggers in her eyes. His old lover Andrea had caught his interest with a fat ass and compliant nature, but Califia's sharp tongue and call to the masses had won his heart. After that, she was always on his mind. Even when he was juggling women back in the day, getting his dick wet as much as he could because he could, it was Califia and her assertive drive to shape the world that forced him to turn her way. Her influence on him over the years changed him and his worldview. She was the catalyst for him finally admitting to himself that he wanted out of the palace. He wanted a life of his own, but to have that life, it meant looking out for the life of others in a more profound way.

He could freely admit that his woman gave him new eyes. And those new eyes turned to look at his own country and really allowed him to see how seclusion and secrecy was…what? Wrong? Selfish? Without her, would he be sitting in the palace now with Zinzi looking no further outside of Wakanda except for the occasional trips he would have to make to the U.N. and worrying about nothing so pressing as to what he would wear to a royal event? Would he have children that were nothing like Erik, who expected things to be handed to them because they had wealth and protection?

N'Jobu watched his son as he spoke to Lia and Marisol, and a chill ran through him. His little boy was so much more than what his own nephew T'Challa could ever be. His nephew lived in a bubble just as N'Jobu had lived. It was an extreme world of privilege, high-tech, and insular thinking. It was also a small world that had the capacity to make one not have empathy. This was the thing that Califia gave him. The tipping point that shifted his mind. He was sympathetic to the troubles of people outside of Wakanda when he first arrived in America, but honestly, beyond that, it wasn't his problem or concern. Califia taught him empathy. And this made him look outward.

It shook him to his core at that moment to know that she made him free. Made him want more for others. Especially for her and their son.

N'Jobu squeezed Califia's waist and let his chin rest in her hair.

Bast be a rock.

They were inside the local community center that Soliel created. It was a small building that served a vibrant neighborhood and it was packed with supporters.

Califia was drinking an overly sweet punch when the final vote was tallied and Lia received the phone call that she had won her seat on the city council. They all watched Lia cover her face with her hands after she burst into tears. Her boyfriend Oscar scooped her up and her family clamored for hugs. Marisol and Erik hugged Lia's waist as she stared around the room, her face full of shock.

N'Jobu stood next to Califia and his smile was so big and bright, she could only grab onto his arm and squeeze his bicep. Lia ran to her and Soliel and threw her arms around them both in a big hug.

"This couldn't be done without you two," Lia said. When she stood back, her face looked like it had really registered that her political career was beginning. All the talks over wine and food late into the night over years of strategic planning to win over minds and canvassing the neighborhood had paid off. Her foot was in the door. Now all she had to do was stick to her convictions and push reform. Within the hour of winning, Lia was outside the center giving a victory speech to reporters, her face back on tv again. The entire neighborhood felt like it had won. Califia and N'Jobu watched her speech from inside on the tv with Califia translating for him.

"She is talking about her critics hating her left-leaning politics and how her opponent, that asshole Nobrega, will no longer be allowed to hide his cover-up of extrajudicial killings by police officers in the favelas…"

They could hear the crowd of supporters outside cheering Lia's words about the police and city corruption. Nobrega was a former cop turned politician, and N'Jobu thought he had the face of a mindless weasel. He was racist, homophobic, and a champion of militias and right-wing extremism. Throughout the campaign, he kept referring to Lia as a troublesome black rat who would damage the city. An ugly little man in N'Jobu's eyes. He overheard Erik calling him "mancha de merda" to Marisol at the Catalina restaurant, and Califia looked shocked that he said that and reprimanded him at the table. When he asked Califia what Erik had said, she whispered in his ear, "Our son called him a shit stain." N'Jobu had laughed.

There was a small party at Lia's house that evening out on the patio, and part of the time was spent with Califia and Erik watching N'Jobu pack his things. They had finally put the mattress back on the box spring and Califia and Erik sat on the bed.

"Tomorrow we'll be at the swearing in and then the luncheon until one, and then we'll head back here for dinner. My Dad said to call him when you get into Atlanta and he'll be at the airport waiting for you," she said as she watched him pack away a few shirts and some souvenirs.

Erik kept watching her face and she wondered why he was so intent on being so hugged up near her. He was doing the same to N'Jobu.

"You okay, JaJa?" she asked him while rubbing her hand on his curls.

He nodded, but he gave furtive glances to his father.

"What is it, Son?" N'Jobu said sitting on the other side of Erik.

They both saw two tears run down both sides of Erik's face and then he was pressing his head against Califia's chest. She put a protective arm around him.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want Baba to leave."

"I'm just going for work—"

Erik shook his head against Califia.

"Something's wrong," he wailed and Califia patted his back to try and calm him down.

N'Jobu pulled Erik away from Califia and held his chin with his hand forcing the boy to look his way.

"Speak," N'Jobu said.

"It doesn't feel good—"

"What doesn't feel good?" N'Jobu said wiping Erik's face.

"You guys. It feels different."

"What are you worried about?" Califia asked. Her eyes had glanced over at N'Jobu's and he looked as puzzled as she felt. But Erik was sensitive that way. He always had the ability to feel their tensions.

"Baba leaving us so early all of a sudden. And you were crying this morning when Baba took a shower. I saw you, Mom. Baba's phone was vibrating on the kitchen table and you looked at it and started crying…are you breaking up? Is Baba leaving us?"

Califia was horrified. Her baby saw her crying over her fears and thought his family was disintegrating. The look on N'Jobu's face hurt her also. When his eyes reached hers, he was now aware that she had been checking his phone. His locked phone. Califia couldn't even find the words to speak.

"No one is breaking up, JaJa. Dry your eyes. Your mother and I will always be together."

She stared at N'Jobu. There was no lie in his eyes.

"You've been worrying about that all this time today?" she asked.

He nodded, a small shudder of air leaving his lips as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. She should've been more aware of how she was acting around her son. All of her focus had been on N'Jobu and that damn cell phone, and she had unintentionally telegraphed divorce to her baby. She held him close to her and kissed his forehead.

"We are fine—"

"But why were you crying?"

"I always miss your father whenever he leaves us. I'm just sadder now because I want him to be here to help us celebrate Aunt Lia. He's going to miss out on all the cool stuff we're going to do—"

"Yes," N'Jobu said jumping in to clean up her mess, "No museum. I can't go see the Gato waterfall with you and Marisol on Friday. Your Mom was looking forward to that, so now we'll have to do it the next time we come down-"

"And your father's phone is always ringing and disturbing him. I was upset that he will have to work early and not play with us."

Erik's chest stopped heaving and his face was now just puffy and not wet with tears.

"Feel better?" N'Jobu asked.

"Yeah," Erik said still leaning into Califia.

"Afonso said that his mom cried a lot before his Dad left them. He doesn't get to see his Dad anymore," Erik said.

Afonso was a neighborhood kid that played with Marisol.

"We are fine. You will see me back home. Give me a hug," N'Jobu said.

Erik practically leaped onto his father and Califia felt her chest heaving a bit. N'Jobu stroked the back of Erik's head, but when his eyes met hers this time, they were solemn.

"JaJa, come on!" Marisol yelled from the small livingroom.

"Your mother and I are going to talk, okay?" N'Jobu said.

Erik jumped up kissing N'Jobu's cheek and then quickly hugged Califia before he ran out to play with Marisol and Afonso. Lia had turned on music and the noise outside let them know there were more people around to give their congratulations.

Alone, Califia felt like a small gulf had sprung between her and N'Jobu.

"Checking my phone?"

She nodded, feeling her eyes well up.

N'Jobu stood up and locked the new bedroom door. He sat back down next to her.

"I do not want to see my son crying like that ever again," he said.

She couldn't tell by his voice if he was angry or upset, or even sad. His eyes were on hers and their intensity overshadowed anything else.

"I do not want you looking at my phone and wondering about my intentions or who is calling me."

He took off his shirt and slipped off his shoes and socks.

"I do not want to see you crying over me because of something you've imagined I've done to cause you harm…"

He slipped out of his pants and underwear. When he was completely naked, he widened his legs.

"Take off your clothes," he said. It was a command.

She stood up and pulled her blouse and bra off. He held her hand for balance when she kicked off her heels and pulled off her pants and bikini underwear.

Helping her straddle his lap, N'Jobu held the back of her neck with his hand.

"You have to trust me. I'm your man. Just yours. I have to take this fear out of you," he said. His voice changed.

"Califia Stevens, you belong to me. You are the mother of my son. Yours is the only bed I belong in. Understand?"

He moved his hips under her and she reached out to hold onto him. He lifted her up to adjust his penis under her so that it rested tucked between her folds, soft and warm, not even erect.

"Kiss me," he said.

She placed her lips on his and the heat from his mouth made her open hers wide to accept his thick wet tongue. His other hand held her waist and she could feel him growing underneath her. She bounced for him and his kisses became deeper.

"Our son can't cry like that anymore," he said.

His reached up and fondled her nipples, plucking them until they were stiff beneath the tips of his fingers. He looked down between her legs.

"Get that pussy ready for me," he whispered to her. He slipped his tongue around the outer shell of her ear and she could feel his warm breath hitch as her plumped up clit and ring dragged across his tip.

"Oh…girl…just like that…just like that…get that fat pussy ready for me…just me…"

She was getting wet so fast, his voice easing her pussy open…

"There it is…I see it…that look…you got Daddy's pussy together, huh?"

She groaned into his neck and he laughed at her. "Yes, you are ready for me. Dripping all on my lap…"

Laughter outside distracted her for a moment. The music was infectious and the smell of rich foods permeated the air. Lia was talking to someone over her cell phone.

His lips trapped hers again and his deep kisses engulfed any control she had over her mind and body. By the time he let her come up for air from his mouth, she was whimpering into his collar bone and her thighs were slickening his thighs with her wetness.

"You ready to sit on my dick?"

His grip was on her waist. She whispered yes into his neck but it came out like a long breathy sigh. He gripped his erection with his hand.

"Slide down this pipe, girl."

He lifted her up and she widened her thighs and slipped her fingers between her legs to guide him inside of her. She sat on him slowly and his breath became little puffs of warm air upon her neck. He kept still once her ass sat on his balls. The walls in the room vibrated with the sound of music and talking and laughter from outside. They heard Erik speaking to Andres and Soliel, and there were occasional shouts from down below on the street from people sending words of support and pride at Lia's win.

Califia shifted forward on his lap and started lifting up and down on him.

"I don't want you to worry about me being back home by myself," he grunted, his hands gripping her sides. His voice went deeper in tone as the sound of skin on skin slapping together drowned out the noise outside.

"When you come back, I'll bring you to my apartment. I'll let you get in my bed…"

Her eyes stayed on his, her lips puckered and wanting his mouth.

"I'm not fucking anyone else but you—"

She exhaled and kept her movement on his lap controlled so that the bed didn't move that much.

He lifted up from the bed with her still on his erection and moved to put her on her back on the edge of the mattress. He spread her legs and leaned over her, his thickness sliding in and out of her with a slow gentle rhythm.

"Is this what you're worried about?" he asked. His sack was like a plush gift slapping against her cheeks.

"You think someone else is getting this in my bed when I'm away from you?"

Her eyes rolled back and she turned her head to the side. She couldn't look him in the face as her pussy throbbed with just the thought of him with someone else. It was a perverse pleasure to imagine his dick hitting some other woman's spot the right way. Serah called him grade A dick and didn't mind sharing him. She could not, but it turned her on imagining the act.

"Ohhhh," he said trying to keep quiet in the room as he held her legs up.

He looked down at her and she knew he was not keeping his control with the way his face was getting tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching each time he entered her folds.

"Damn, I'm stretching this shit out," he gasped. He thrust forward and laid on top her, letting her take his full weight. The bed was groaning from their movement. She pushed up on his chest and he pulled out of her. He squeezed his balls as he watched her stand up and bend over for him, her hands pressed on the mattress.

He grabbed his cock and inserted himself back in her and soon enough he had her sucking on the sheets with her mouth trying to hide her yelps. He was having a difficult time keeping the sounds of his pleasure to himself.

"I have to fuck this good pussy… real well….I won't have it for a week…ohhhhhh…I feel you coming already…I feel you," he gritted out.

She screamed into the sheets, her hands gripping the cotton tight.

"Cum in me," she begged, her head turned to look back at him, "your dick feels amazing."

He made a sound that gave her shivers.

"I'm ready to bust—"

"Cum in your pussy—"

"Damn—"

"Nut in this pussy…"

His hand pressed down on her lower back. She rocked her ass cheeks on him.

"Bast!" he shouted and she felt him hold still as his cock spasmed in her walls. She sighed as his load kept pumping into her. Collapsing onto the bed, he pulled out from her easy, still dripping cum from his tip.

He plopped down next to her and reached above her head. He brought his cell to her face. She watched him unlock his phone.

It was always hard leaving them.

N'Jobu gave Erik and Califia tons of kisses and it was never enough. Lia's boyfriend waited patiently by his car as N'Jobu bid farewell to everyone. When he hugged Lia tight, her bright eyes made him feel blessed to know her.

"Now will you tell me what you said the other day?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

He smiled.

"When sleeping women wake, mountains move. And do not forget, however long the night, the dawn will break," he said.

"Hmmm. I like that. Thank you for being here with your family and for supporting me. We will have a good time for their last week."

"When you get some time, come visit us," he said.

"I will."

He hugged her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"JaJa," he said and Erik jumped up in his arms. He hugged and rocked his son in his arms.

"Look after your mother. Be a good boy and I'll see you soon."

He leaned over and kissed Califia.

"You better get going, you have to be there early for international flights," Califia said.

Her face looked peaceful. They were back on track.

"Me and you in my apartment. I'll get Dante to watch Erik," he whispered. He saw her eyes twinkle.

Waving to his family and friends, N'Jobu enjoyed the drive with Oscar as they moved away from the favela and he had the opportunity to watch the scenery. He found a flight that could get him into Atlanta at a decent time. If he had to, he would contact T'Chaka there and feed him the story he sent his parents via email about attending a bachelor party. He just needed to be on American soil as soon as possible.

Once he was back in his apartment, he would start getting background info on Ulysses Klaue. And if D'Beke found that N'Jobu had enough War Dogs converted to his side, he would start planning to subvert policies back home. It would take time.

The airport was busy and his flight was delayed.

He sat in a crowded section where his gate was and watched travelers come and go. He had a couple of hours to kill, so he read a book from his burner cell to pass the time. He was looking forward to sleeping on the plane and made plans in his mind to keep busy while he was separated from Erik and Califia.

The chatter of voices around him lulled him to close his eyes.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he fell asleep and was jolted awake by the gasp of the Black woman sitting next to him.

His eyes shot open, and he couldn't make out what the woman was saying in Portuguese. Other travelers were stopping and watching the tv above them. It was a chaotic scene and a female reporter was pointing to a car in the distance behind her.

"What's happening?" N'Jobu asked a white man behind him who spoke English to his companion.

"I'm not sure," the man said.

The woman next to him covered her mouth with her hands.

Eyes back on the tv, Lia's picture appeared. It was a photo of her voting at the school. A clip played of her speaking outside of the community center after she won. N'Jobu walked swiftly to his flight gate and questioned the brown-skinned attendant who also had her eyes glued to the tv.

"Excuse, me. What is happening?"

The woman's eyes were wide and her lip trembled.

"That woman who was voted into office was…she was just killed—"

N'Jobu felt his gut lurch and he immediately dialed Califia's number. She wasn't picking up. Eyes bolted back to the tv, the news showed shocked faces of people wandering around in a daze. One young Black woman was shown sitting in the street wailing.

N'Jobu looked for any signs of Califia or Erik, or anyone he recognized because they were with Lia.

"Two people were killed," he heard the second gate attendant tell another traveler next to him.

Califia was still not picking up. All he knew was Erik and Califia rode with Lia and Soliel to the luncheon.

Two people dead.

Panic clutched his throat. He grabbed his carry-on bag and walked quickly toward the ground floor. His eyes were blurry and he was running by the time he made it outside of the airport.

Luck was with him and he snagged a cab right away. He gave directions to the cabbie to head for the community center. He couldn't remember the luncheon address because his mind was a rush of negative fear-bound thoughts.

The cabbie had the radio on and N'Jobu heard Lia's name mentioned.

"Do you speak English?" N'Jobu asked. His voice sounded high-pitched and frantic.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what the radio is saying about what happened to the new Council Woman. Lia—"

"Oh, oh, she was shot and killed…"

N'Jobu's hands shot up to the top of his head. He still couldn't reach Califia and his body was shaking.

"Who shot her?"

The cabbie listened to the radio.

"What the fuck are they saying, man?!"

The cabbie was startled by his anger, his lips grew tight.

"She was leaving from somewhere and when she was in her car, someone pulled up and shot into the car…uh…she was killed…and…and they say her driver was killed too…many people seriously injured who were running away…"

He sent Califia a text, and then he tried calling Soliel. No one was picking up. He didn't have Lia's parent's number. That was in Califia's phone.

The soldier in him bucked up. He sat back in the seat. He couldn't fathom what was happening and he had no control on how to get to his family any faster. Califia could hold it down. She would protect Erik.

But who would protect her if he wasn't there?

He closed his eyes…and felt his kimoyo beads heat up on his wrist.

Chapter 19 HERE.

#njobu #n'jobu #erik killmonger #erik #killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #blackpanther #black panther #wakanda #erik killmonger as a child #eriklives #erik stevens #erikstevens #njobu fanfiction #n'jobu fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #njadaka #n'jadaka #njadakastevens #n'jadaka stevens #n'jadakastevens #njobu fanfic #n'jobu fanfic #n'jobufanfiction #njobufanfiction #princenjobu #princen'jobu #prince n'jobu

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 4

"This candor I do not condone

It's critical and not alone

The choices here I know I own

So lead on, lead on

Lean in, let me feel your breath on my skin (I know, I know)

Won't be over 'til it's over (touch me, yeah)

Lean in, liquor on your breath I'm tastin' (I know, I know)

Won't be over 'til we're sober (touch me, yeah)…"

Violents – "Equal Powers"

Califia stood back from her classroom window to stare at the decorations she had placed for Halloween. Pumpkins, cute little black cats with red bow ties, friendly looking ghosts carrying bags of candy, and silly dancing skeletons paraded before her eyes. She did a nice job.

Her students were already worked up from the previous week when she told them about all the special activities she had planned for them. Scavenger hunts during recess, mask making for arts and crafts, and a Friday afternoon party combining the sixth-grade class next to hers. She was looking forward to giving the children fun things to participate in. It had been a rough two weeks in the neighborhood.

A teenaged boy had been beaten by the police for refusing to let them stop and frisk him. The sixteen-year-old felt that he was profiled and ran from the cops when they yelled for him to stay put so they could park and accost him. The neighborhood went off and protested in front of the local police station. Nothing was resolved from it. A new cheaply made opioid was flooding the streets and Califia noticed a dramatic absence of some of her students who had parents with addiction problems. On top of that, there were rumors floating around that the family of a young boy that had been in Califia's previous year's class had been taken away in the middle of the night by the Feds. Only it wasn't the Feds according to some accounts, but a secret organization with nefarious ties. Califia didn't know what to believe.

"Looks good," said Leticia, the other sixth-grade teacher next to Califia's room.

"These kids are so hyped for this week, I don't even know if they can focus on classwork," Califia said.

"Here," Leticia said handing her a mug filled with black coffee.

"Thank you," Califia said glancing at her watch. They both had thirty minutes of quiet before the start of their day.

Both women stood side by side sipping their morning brew and staring at the decorations. Leticia moved in closer to Califia. Her voice became a whisper. She spoke in Spanish to Califia.

"I heard that Terrell and his family are in Los Angeles."

"Who told you that?"

"Shhh…I have a friend on the Board of Education who did a little digging. His transcripts were forwarded to L.A."

"Another school?" Califia asked.

Leticia looked around them and moved in closer.

"I don't know if it was a school, but the head honchos were very secretive about it. Very nervous about people looking into it—"

"Which one of you is Califia Stevens?"

Califia and Leticia were startled to see their school Principal and two men in dark suits standing behind them.

"I am," Califia said switching back to English, sizing up the suits and giving her Principal a look of concern.

"Califia, these two men would like to speak with you about Terrell Greenley."

Leticia left Califia and walked into her own classroom as the two suits moved closer to Califia. One suit was a dark-haired white man with glasses and the other was an attractive Asian man with a severe military buzz cut.

"I'll cover for your class until you get back," Principal Johnson said.

"Get back?" Califia quipped, her eyes darting between Principal Johnson and the men.

Califia's boss looked very nervous, her usual no-nonsense expression replaced with worry lines and a pressing of her lips tightly together. Principal Johnson always reminded her of her grandmother when she was dealing with the students and often her staff. Her mahogany face looked deeply troubled.

"This way, Ms. Stevens," Buzzcut said.

Califia followed the men back to the main office where they moved past an office staff that appeared agitated as well as curious. Entering a conference room in the rear of the main office, Califia was directed to take a seat with her back facing the wall. The two suits sat across from her.

"What's this about? Who are you guys?" Califia asked, feeling a little bold and a bit annoyed that she wasn't told she was going to be hemmed up by the Feds so early in the morning.

"No need to be concerned. We are doing a background check on Terrell Greenley and his family. We are not at liberty to give you any details about —" Glasses said.

"Can you at least tell me that he and his family are okay?"

"They are fine," Buzzcut said, giving Califia a cultivated smile meant to ease her unease. It did the opposite. At least she knew the family was alive. She also knew these suits were not the Feds. Something about their demeanor read bad news.

"What do you want to know?" Califia said, leaning back in her chair. She threw her arms across her chest giving a deliberate defensive look. She knew they were trying to invoke the tired good cop/bad cop routine. Buzzcut was not the one to focus on. Glasses was the one who held the big cards in this hand. Califia focused on him.

"How was Terrell in class? Good kid? Troublesome?" Glasses said.

"Great kid. Smart. A little shy. Kept to himself a lot, but he eventually opened up after a few months. He liked to help me in the classroom after school. His parents worked late, so he was a latchkey kid."

The suits listened. Didn't write down or record anything she said. They were probably wired and someone else was recording their conversation.

"Did you notice anything about him that gave you any cause for concern?" Buzzcut asked.

"Like what?"

"Anything that made him stand out?"

"What do you guys really want to know?" Califia said leaning forward. She placed her hands on the conference table. She needed these dudes to be blunt.

"Were his parents attentive to his education? Did they attend parent conferences or open houses?" Buzzcut said, ignoring Califia's question.

"Answer my question first."

"Ms. Stevens, we're not trying to create an adversarial interaction here. We just need some background information to help us assess Terell so we can help him and his family."

"Are they in a witness protection program or something?"

"Something," Glasses finally interjected.

Califia played it close to the vest. She sat back in the chair again.

"His parents worked a lot. It's expensive as fuck to live here nowadays."

Califia waited to see how they would react to her cursing. Nothing.

"They came to one open house event last fall and attended a Kwanzaa presentation in December. They were nice people. Hard-working and proud of their son. Just normal people."

Califia noticed Buzz cut glanced at Glasses when she said the word "normal". It was their tell. Califia decided to act softer in her interaction with the men.

"They were a sweet family. Are they really okay? Can you let Terrell know that his friends and I miss him very much?"

"Thank you, Ms. Stevens. You've helped us out a lot," Buzzcut said standing and buttoning up his suit jacket. Glasses stood and Califia eased out of her chair slowly.

"So that's it?" Califia asked focusing hard on their body language.

"That's it," Glasses said giving her a false smile.

"Bet," Califia said walking out of the conference room. She walked into the staff restroom and locked the door behind her. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at herself to get back in focus. Those clowns were not the Feds. They were not part of any legit government agency. They knew Terrell was not normal. Califia even knew Terrell was not "normal".

Everything she said about the boy was true, except Terrell was an unusual child. There was something different about him. Not overt, but everyone could tell that the slender boy with the big eyes and warm smile was unique.

Califia first noticed it when he arrived in her class a week after the term started. She had been having a horrible headache that didn't disappear even after six hundred milligrams of ibuprofen. She was introducing the class to her new charge and the pain in her head was throbbing like a monster, but Terrell had reached out and rubbed her hand and the pain had ceased. Instantly. She remembered staring at his small hand patting hers and feeling comfortable and…safe.

She had dismissed it as a fluke until she began noticing Terrell's ability to make people feel good. If a fellow student was having a temper tantrum or an argument on the playground and Terrell happened upon them, the problem and anger disappeared. When Califia's teaching assistant was suffering from bad congestion and blocked nasal passages, Terrell asked her for help with a math problem and simply touched the assistant's hand and the problem vanished. Not gradual. Instant.

A healer.

That's what he was. And Califia kept her mouth shut. She'd read stories online and heard whisperings in the streets about people appearing in places with special abilities. A lot were coming from poor communities. Poor communities of color. Many were disappearing. Just like the Greenleys.

Terrell was a little Black boy with a gift, and Califia wasn't about to let on to any secret NGO that she knew the child was a special target. Black people had enough problems surviving as regular humans, let alone being extraordinary.

She surprised herself by not freaking out when she became aware of what Terrell could do. She just had a private chat with him to keep his "skills" a secret. She said the same thing to his parents when they did speak in private at the one and only open house they attended.

The Greenley's were a simple working poor family. Just like everyone else in their neighborhood, they hustled for the basics and lived paycheck to paycheck. Mr. Greenley worked at a recycling plant and Mrs. Greenley did hair in her home, getting paid under the table to make ends meet. Califia was upfront with them and advised them to remind Terrell to keep things to himself. They thanked her for her understanding, and Califia kept her eye on him at school and kept him close afterschool.

But somehow, someone noticed and snitched. A month ago, word was out that the Greenley's had disappeared. No forwarding address, no word of warning or anything. One minute they were in the neighborhood, the next, they were gone. They didn't even take their belongings from their apartment. The landlord had a yard sale after a month had gone by and no one came to collect their things.

Califia was aware that the school was being watched. Several of her students had reported to her about dark SUV's with tinted windows being seen parked near the school and the park. She herself had caught a glimpse of these vehicles cruising through the area during recess. Maybe Terrell wasn't the only one. She hadn't noticed any other children with gifts. Perhaps they were better trained to conceal their abilities. She hoped so.

Leaving the staff restroom, Califia felt the eyes of the office staff watching her as she left to return to her classroom. She caught a glimpse of the two suits climbing into a dark tinted sedan and leaving the school parking lot.

Back in her classroom, Principal Johnson was leading Califia's students in a game of times table Olympics.

"All done," Califia said trying to sound cheerful. Principal Johnson's face still looked grim. She had to know that Terrell was different. The woman nodded and handed over the class to Califia's capable hands.

When her day had ended, Califia straightened up her desk and made sure her copy order in the office was on track to be ready in the morning. Their school was so poor and stingy with supplies that every piece of paper copied had to be approved before the copy room staff could print anything. Most times she copied things at home on her own printer. But this order was for the craft activity she planned, and she needed a few hundred sheets done in color. Color ink was expensive as hell.

She was going to walk home since she lived close by and didn't need to ferry anything back with her. Her classroom assistant had gotten through test paper grading and collating math folders for the next day, so for once, Califia had a teacher homework-free night.

She threw on her winter coat and adjusted the collar. Stepping off the school property after switching from heels to sneakers, she waved goodbye to some staff and students and trudged down the sidewalk. She noticed a car following her, a late-model Camry. She turned around to see who was driving when the car stopped. She felt anger rising up in her. Did these fools never quit? They already questioned her—

"Hey, sexy!"

Cedric stepped out from the car and swept her up in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" she said as he put her back down on the sidewalk.

"Had a couple of free days and wanted to see you."

"You were going to see me next month."

"I can't wait for Thanksgiving."

"Albert know you out here?"

"None of his business."

"I'm keeping my mouth shut then," she said holding onto Cedric's hand.

"Your other dude around the next few days?"

"Scott?"

"Oh, so Scott must be a new one. I was talking about the mechanic."

Califia made a face and Cedric pulled her towards his car.

"Are you hungry or anything? I can take you to get something to eat."

"Thank you, yes!"

She skipped over to the passenger side of his car and noticed a dark blue SUV across the street from them. She couldn't make out the driver, but she felt her lips curl into an angry snarl. These suits didn't quit. Were they going to follow her around now? She made a move to cross the street and confront them, but Cedric threw his arms around her and kissed her up against his rental car.

"I missed you," he said.

"You better had," she said.

Califia, Cedric, and Albert had been seeing each other for over a year now. Strange to think a year had passed since she re-connected with them. Also, a whole year and more since her reunion with N'Jobu. Stranger still to think that she and N'Jobu had actually stayed in contact with one another. An occasional email from him. Or a text. He kept his messages cryptic because of his status, but at least she knew how he was doing and he could keep up with her. It felt nice to have him in her life on that level. She even sent him a picture of her classroom students from the beginning of the year. He sent her a recent picture of T'Challa and himself in a pool.

There was no mention of marriage or Zinzi, and Califia didn't bother to ask. It was enough to know he was well and she kept it at that.

She glanced over at the SUV as she wrapped her arms around Cedric's neck. Fuck those people.

"Let's go," Cedric said opening up her passenger door. She hopped in and felt her cell vibrate in her purse.

A picture of her cousin Michelle popped up on her phone.

"Hey cuz," Califia said as Cedric pulled away from the curb.

"Yo, Auntie K is on one. She said there's a barber over in the cut that looks like ole boy from your college."

"Who?"

She could hear her cousin mumbling something in the background of the phone, and her Aunt Kendra mumbling something back.

"Hold on a second, Cali," Kendra said.

Califia's phone buzzed again and when she looked down at it, Kendra had sent her a text.

"What's this?" Califia asked.

"Look at it, is that him?"

Califia swiped the screen of her cell and a picture popped up. Drizzy's Kuts. A popular barbershop. The spot she used to go to until her barber moved to Richmond and she had to follow him there.

There was a blurry shot of a man clipping hair.

"I'm supposed to know who that is?" Califia said staring at the picture.

"See I knew that wasn't him," Michelle said to Kendra in the background.

"I don't know who that is. Bad picture," Califia said shoving the phone back up to her ear. She heard a shuffling of hands and then Aunt Kendra was on the phone.

"That African dude works there," Aunt Kendra said.

"Who?"

"That dude you brought to Thanksgiving. The African. He works at Drizzy's."

"Lemme call you back," she said swiping back to the photo again.

Staring at the photo, she tried to make out the blurred image. Dark skin. But a lot of dudes that worked at Drizzy's had dark skin. It was a side profile, but someone else was walking past the figure obscuring the features.

It couldn't be N'Jobu. In Oakland? Working in a barbershop? He didn't even know that area. Had never been there. His time here had been selective and covert. He didn't know the hood like that.

"Everything okay?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah, my cousin was just checking on something. She thought a friend of ours was back in town. It's not him."

"Where do you want to eat?"

"Anywhere?" she said glancing back at the photo.

Their early dinner together was pleasant. A Mediterranean restaurant with great baklava for dessert. When Cedric went to the restroom after paying, Califia looked at the photo her cousin sent one more time. Curiosity killed the cat, and the gnawing curiosity in her gut was making her antsy. The last email she received from him was over a month old. No word of him coming back. Why would he? Her Aunt was mistaken.

"Ready?" Cedric asked.

Califia walked in front of him as they left the restaurant.

"I'm staying at the Doubletree."

"You know you can stay at my place," Califia said.

"I know, but I thought you might like a little mini-vacation. I can drop you off at work and pick you up. I'm here for three days. There's a whirlpool jacuzzi bath in my room."

"Nice."

"Shall we go to your place first and pick up some things, or do you want to stay tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow," she said quickly. Cedric glanced at her then set his eyes back on the road.

"Okay," he said.

"Could you drive me over to my cousin's first?" she said.

"Sure."

Califia gave him directions. But not to her cousin's.

She had him park around the corner from a busy street.

"I'll be right back. Need to grab something from my cousin real fast."

"I'll be here," Cedric said.

Califia made her way towards the corner. When she was out of Cedric's vision, she ran down another block and headed towards another street.

She spotted the shop. Drizzy's Kuts. It was busy and bright and her eyes tried to track the goings-on inside from across the street and behind a light pole. A man with a long grey t-shirt and a gold chain around his neck was lining up a chubby dude in a middle chair. Califia found herself moving in closer to look.

Damn.

Damn.

Damn.

Before she knew it, she was stalking into the shop and staring at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she said.

The busy shop kept moving along, but many of the men watched her as she stomped her way up to N'Jobu.

Clippers in his hand sitting above his client's scalp, N'Jobu stared at her, his eyes registering surprise, but his demeanor remained poised and under control. The beard was gone and the goatee was back in place. His own hair was lined up crisp, and his clothes were fashionably hood chic.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Califia felt her neck lean back. What the fuck? He had no accent. He sounded just like a regular East Bay brotha annoyed at being bothered on the job.

"You heard what I said. What the hell are you doing here?"

Her own voice was starting to sound shaky. She glanced around the shop and saw the curious eyes checking her out and also hoping to catch some drama.

"Yo, JoJo, take that outside," said a hefty man clipping the beard of another customer in the back.

"Give me a minute, bruh," N'Jobu said to his customer as he turned off his clippers and placed them on a counter. He grabbed Califia by her arm and pulled her outside.

She felt stunned and unable to think clearly looking at him again in person. He guided her around the corner from the shop.

"What is going on? How are you here?"

"Can we talk about it later?" he asked, still accent-free. His whole demeanor was so different…so regular and yet not regular.

"You couldn't tell me you were coming back?"

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a brass business card holder. He opened it and handed her his card. She read it.

"Joseph Stevens?" she read out loud.

"I'll explain everything to you later. I gotta get back to my customer."

She felt her body reacting to the sound of his voice.

"You got me really fucked up right now, N'Jobu—"

"Joseph…JoJo around here."

He placed his card case back in his pocket. She noticed that he still had his black and silver ring on. But no wedding band.

"N'Jo….Joseph—"

He leaned in and kissed her on her cheek. He smelled so damn good, she felt her eyes close when his lips touched her cheek.

"Later, okay?"

She watched him jog back around the corner. She stared at his business card. Her legs felt wobbly. She started walking in the direction of her townhouse but remembered she had driven over with Cedric.

She scrambled back towards where she left Cedric shoving N'Jobu's card into her coat pocket. Her thoughts were all over the place. One minute she's being questioned by men in black, next she's swept up by a long-distance lover, and now N'Jobu was back in Oakland.

How?

The hours at Drizzy's were long but fruitful.

Four months he had been in Oakland and three of those months had been proving his worth to Nate Robinson, the owner of Drizzy's. N'Jobu had his entire backstory worked out. He had been born and raised in Oakland but moved to Richmond in junior high. Got into some trouble and had to leave the state for a couple of years. A death in his family had him returning to his roots and he was trying to start brand new. He had the East Bay accent down cold. All he had to do was present his fake barber's license and cut a few heads to show his skills and he was in. His clientele doubled in the first month of work once word on the street hit about the new brotha who was handling the middle chair at Drizzy's.

He had an apartment in a rundown building and he made sure to get a dark Chevy Blazer that was a few years old to fit into his new lifestyle. He even had a girlfriend. Sort of.

Tonya was a young woman he met at a block party thrown by Nate at a neighborhood park. She worked for the city and was an easy way for him to get acclimated to his new surroundings. She really liked him and he liked her a lot. He thought a regular friendship could develop, but after a couple of months, he had needs, and they got along well enough. He had to get himself settled before he could even think about approaching Califia. He was still getting used to being out of Wakanda. Still getting used to the idea of being a War Dog outside of his country.

He planned to wait another month before seeking out Califia, but he almost lost his façade when she marched into the barbershop with hands on her hips demanding to know why he was there. He had no idea how she found out. He did his best to stay low key and away from her regular haunts. But Oakland was Oakland. Word of newbies got around it seemed.

Her hair was a little longer. She had it in a short twist out with faded sides. Her nose ring was replaced with a tiny blue nose stud. He couldn't see much of her body in her long winter coat, but she looked great. He felt his lips tingle when he kissed her cheek, and he heard an unmistakable sigh coming from her lips when he touched her skin.

Returning to his customer, some of the patrons cracked smiles at him as he finished his work. Ivan, the barber across from him teased him a bit.

"Tonya know about that one?"

N'Jobu played it off by just smiling. He hadn't spoken to Tonya in a few days. Their relationship was cooling. She wanted to take things further with him and he was trying to break off with her as painlessly as possible. His War Dog training taught him that people had to be expendable once their usefulness was over. She made him look legitimate to the community. She had an ex that came around her way from time to time, but N'Jobu knew she did it only to try and rile him up. She was a pretty woman who could get whomever she wanted, so he wasn't worried too much about a blow up when he left her. He just had to time it right. Most of the guys in the shop urged him to drop her because she was after a husband and baby asap. They told him to watch his condoms. In N'Jobu's mind, the only woman he was having a baby with was the one who stormed into his job and stared him down not caring who was watching.

A baby.

When he returned to Wakanda, it was all he could think about. Getting away from the palace. Getting back to her. And yes, putting a baby back inside of her. It would be a sensitive topic to broach with her, but he was determined.

His War Dog assignment was to start at seven years and then go year to year after that. His job was to become entrenched in the community and to find out several things: Keep tabs on the pulse of Black Americans in Northern California. Report any factual evidence that a certain agency they were spying on globally was removing Americans with strange abilities. Keep tabs on an up-and-coming politician who had connections to another political figure they were watching in D.C. who could possibly cause Wakanda problems in the U.N. The latter issue had N'Jobu communicating with another War Dog in Washington on a weekly basis.

Being a barber allowed N'Jobu to be in the heart of the community and the flexibility to move around when he needed. His clientele list was high and he was popular at the shop, so the fact that he was bringing in more money for the owner allowed him to hook up his own schedule as needed. And Nate liked him a lot.

Despite the work he was doing for Wakanda, the only thing that he rested easy in was that he would get back to his woman. She was going to have a ton of questions, and concerns, and doubts about him. But he would be honest about everything with her. Tell her he was a spy. If she didn't want him anymore, he had no fear that she would tell anyone about who he was. He prayed she wasn't too far gone for him to come back to her. His love never wavered, and when her hands went to her hips, his eyes swept her fingers. From what he could tell, she was still free. No rings. Just hopefully the one he remembered being between her legs.

N'Jobu parked his car in a guest spot near Califia's townhouse. Lucky for him her place wasn't part of a gated community. The townhomes were a small, brand-new planned community created to help low-income residents own their first home.

Months earlier N'Jobu had followed her from work to her home just so he could know where to find her when the time was right. Unfortunately, the time came sooner than he had planned, so it was best to get it over with and see where the chips fell between them. His heart felt jumpy and his nerves were a little erratic with the thought of seeing her again. Their meeting in D.C. was imprinted on his brain and he didn't know how intense this next meet-up would be. He just wanted to be honest with her. Be a part of her life again for as long as he could. He wanted to build something with her, and being a War Dog gave him the time to do it. He had the next day off, so he hoped to be with her into the night and the next day too.

Her tan and cream-colored townhouse was the last one in a far back corner facing a vine-covered fence. It was private and quiet. N'Jobu made sure no one was around before he slipped out of his car and made his way to her place. Each townhome had a wooden fence to enclose on a small patio, so N'Jobu felt comfortable rounding the side of her place. Her lights were on and he could hear music playing softly. He was about to knock on her door when he heard more than one voice inside.

He eased down low and scurried around the side of the townhouse hidden by the patio fence and the darkness outside. Peeking his eyes over the top of the enclosure he could see her living room through the large window. She didn't have her blinds closed, and he wished to Bast she did because his eyes were not prepared to see her on the couch with a man.

Both naked.

The dark brown-skinned man was settled behind Califia, one hand holding her leg up and the other gripping her breast as he thrust his cock inside of her. Califia had her eyes closed and her lips were twisted up. What N'Jobu thought was music playing was noise from her tv set. Her window was open, and he could hear their groans and grunts through the screen.

N'Jobu ducked down low and felt his body grow hot with jealous need. His limbs felt tight and he fought against banging on her door and throttling her lover. He did not need to see this. Not now. Not when his mind was full of getting back with her and having something real…having a family.

Bent low near her fence, N'Jobu inhaled hard and fast. He had to hold it together. She was simply living her life. He could still hear the sounds of their lovemaking….no, fucking. They were simply fucking.

"Get it, baby…" Califia purred.

N'Jobu felt his stomach clench with a sour churning.

"Yeah, bitch, take this dick…"

Leave. Just leave. He tried to make his legs move to give her the privacy she deserved, but his ears heard this man call her a bitch. He was the only one who could call her that.

N'Jobu raised himself up to peer at the two of them again. They were still in the same position and N'Jobu wasn't sure if the man was wearing a condom or not. She better not let other dudes cum inside of her raw. His blood pressure rose, but he could not stop watching them. Especially her. The guy was pounding her and N'Jobu's eyes were on her clit. It looked like she still had his ring on. Yes. It was still there and her fingers were now fondling her clit. He felt his own dick thump in his pants. This woman had him whipped. Another man was fucking the shit out of her and he was getting a hard-on watching her.

What he was not about to do was watch another cock cum inside of her. He wrenched his eyes away from them and scurried back to his car. He was turned on and also livid as he sat behind the wheel of his Blazer. The man's face was full of ecstasy. Digging out his woman, fondling her breasts, playing with her clit and the ring. Fuck.

The only thing he could do was watch her townhouse and wait for the dude to leave before he stepped to her.

An hour went by.

Then another.

Soon it was midnight.

N'Jobu sat in his Blazer seething. Dude was sleeping with her. Would probably fuck her again in the morning.

He checked his cell phone to see if she even tried to call him after he gave her his business card.

Nothing-

Movement.

N'Jobu's eyes caught sight of the man leaving Califia's townhouse. He walked past N'Jobu's car without seeing him and stepped into a Camry parked in another guest spot. N'Jobu watched the man leave and then he stayed seated inside the Blazer thinking.

Should he go to her now? His mind only flashed to her writhing on the couch.

No. He would wait until tomorrow and approach her. He would go ballistic if he saw her now and she smelled of some other man. And he was feeling a little pissy. He wanted to be inside of her quite frankly. He also wanted to spank the shit out of her for making him hard while being on some other niggas dick. He shook his head. He was even thinking in the language of his surroundings. It was what it was. He was now a hood brotha and his feelings were developing in that way. He couldn't unsee what he just saw, so he was going to have to deal with it and move on.

He drove back to his apartment and showered, his body tense from what he saw and heard. He felt agitated, but once he crawled into his bed and the warm covers caressed his skin, his mood shifted to a better place. He was just drifting off to sleep when his cell buzzed on his nightstand. It was a number he didn't recognize.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice sounding heavy and wanting.

"N'Jobu."

"Califia."

He sat up and turned on his bedside lamp.

"I know it's late—"

"It's okay. I was barely asleep."

"It feels weird talking to you and you sound like this. I like it though."

"I need to see you. Tomorrow. We have a lot to talk about."

"I can't tomorrow—"

"Why not?"

He knew why not. He wanted to hear her reason. Would she lie?

"I'm seeing someone. He just flew in from Atlanta and he's only here for a few days—"

"I just need a few hours, Califia—"

"When he leaves, we can—"

"No. Tomorrow-"

"Whatchu mean 'no'?"

"We have to talk tomorrow. I can't wait a few days. I need to see you."

"You've been here awhile, N'Jobu. You had plenty of time to see me. You're going to have to wait until he's gone—"

"I'll come over now then—"

"No. You don't dictate when you can see me—"

"Is he still over there?"

Shit.

N'Jobu closed his eyes hoping she overlooked his slip up.

"Hold up—"

"Califia—"

"Nah, hold the fuck up. Still over here? What does that mean? Were you here? Spying on me?"

"I came by—"

"When?"

Why was she always so confrontational? Why was she so protective of this other dude and her time with him? His agitation bubbled up.

"I saw you fucking him on your couch, okay? Happy now?"

"You are unbelievable," she snapped.

"Trust me, I wasn't trying to see that. I just came over to talk to you—"

"How did you even know where I lived…never mind, clearly you have some sort of weird agenda. Watching me fuck Cedric on my own couch like some raggedy ass peeping Tom."

"I said I wasn't trying to see that. I was going to knock on your door, but I heard voices, and I just wanted to check to see if it was safe for me to come in—"

"It's my fucking house, why would you not feel safe?"

"I had to be careful!"

"Who are you yelling at?"

"I'm not trying to yell—"

"You're acting pissed because I'm fucking a dude I want to fuck in my own house. Really?"

His hands were itching to turn her over and lay her ass out. She was getting out of pocket with her tone, and it was ticking him off in the worst way.

"You're wearing my fucking ring."

"And?"

He stretched his neck from side to side to let it pop.

"Don't make me come over there—"

"And do what, nigga?"

"I'm your man—"

"Correction, you once were, but now you're not…goodnight,…Prince N'Jobu."

She hung up.

N'Jobu jumped out of his bed and grabbed his pants and a shirt. He fumbled around for his car keys once he was fully dressed.

He hoped ole boy Cedric enjoyed his moment with Califia that night because it sure as shit was going to be his last time with her. Ever.

Chapter 5 HERE.

#njobu #n'jobu #blackpanther #black panther #killmonger fanfiction #Black panther fanfiction #Black Boys Bloom Thorns First #N'Jobu Fanfiction #njobu fanfiction

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2

Volume 2 Summary: 

Califia Stevens and N'Jobu Udaku have been separated by an ocean and three years. Living their lives apart, they discovered new things about themselves and the people who surround them. Becoming a War Dog, N'Jobu forfeits the pampered life planned for him in Birnin Zana and the palace while seeking to create a life of his own with the woman he fell in love with. The birth of his son Erik N'Jadaka Stevens complicates his allegiance to Wakanda as he tries to live with his new family hidden in plain sight within Oakland, California. Caring for a secret family and spying for his nation proves difficult.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31 Finale

Okay, you made it to the end of Volume 2! Yay, and thank you for reading! Just in case you didn’t know, my Black Panther fics are interconnected. Volume 3 is linked below (It is still in progress), however, that volume starts with Erik at M.I.T and will end when he ends up in Wakanda. There is a book before that follows Erik with Tony Stark when he’s 19. “Stark’s New Intern”. There are also two shorter fics that follow Erik when he’s 21 and 22 during his time on vacation from M.I.T., “Forty-Seven G” and “Say Less”.

With all that being said, I would suggest that you read my “Wet Sugar” (Erik is in his 30s) next if you haven’t. A lot of what you read in Vol. 1 & 2 of BBBTF come back into play in that book and it follows how Erik met Klaue and did him in! Happy reading, and thanks for hanging out in my Pantherverse.

You can find “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 1″ Here.

You can find “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3″ Here.

#njobu #princenjobu #black panther #black panther fanfic #black panther fanfiction #killmonger #erik killmonger's daddy and mama #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #erik killmonger #erik killmonger imagine #Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Vol. 2

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Master List

I said I was going to do a master list, but I had to get some content together. So here is my first one. Hopefully, I will have a buttload of new stuff.  (Updated Masterlist Here)

My goal this summer is to finish my SF/F novel and complete my books about Erik Killmonger’s parents, “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Vol 1-4″ Volume 2 is almost done but I keep procrastinating on purpose because it’s aligning with movie canon and I am not ready.

Without further ado:

“Forty-Seven G” Summary: Erik Stevens attends the wedding of a friend overseas and joins the mile high club and then some.

[Part 1]  [Part 2]  [Part 3]

“Say Less” Summary: Erik Stevens attends a grown-up Spring Break in Wisconsin where he disrupts the love life of a Big Fine who forces him to face his past. Tony Stark makes an appearance. (8 part series still In progress)

[Part 1]  [Part 2]  [Part 3]  [Part 4]  [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 1″ Summary:  Prince N'Jobu Udaku is the second son in line for the throne of Wakanda. While his older brother T'Chaka is being groomed to take on the mantle of King and lead their nation as the Black Panther, N'Jobu is being groomed to become the Ambassador of Wakanda. While completing his Masters in Political Science in the United States, he meets the woman who becomes the mother of his secret son, Erik N'Jadaka Stevens-Udaku, and inspires his radicalization in helping Black people globally when he becomes a War Dog in Oakland. This leads to tragic results for himself and the future of Wakanda when he must hide his son Erik, and Erik's mother in plain sight.

[Volume 1]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2″ (In Progress) Summary:  Califia Stevens and N'Jobu Udaku have been separated by an ocean and three years. Living their lives apart, they discovered new things about themselves and the people who surround them. Becoming a War Dog, N'Jobu forfeits the life planned for him in Birnin Zana and the palace and seeks to create a life of his own with the woman he fell in love with. The birth of his son Erik N'Jadaka Stevens complicates his allegiance to Wakanda as he tries to live with his new family hidden in plain sight in Oakland, California.

[Volume 2]

Author’s Note: “Black Boys Bloom First: Volume 1″ has 30 chapters I didn’t link individually. “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2 will have about 25 chapters that I also did not link individually. I will do that later when I have more bandwidth. 

You can find all my stuff over on AO3 and Wattpad too!

Addendum: A More Complete Masterlist with additional content HERE

Enjoy!

#black panther #blackpanther #erik killmonger #erik stevens #njadaka #erik stevens fic #erik stevens fanfiction #tony starks #wakanda #tchaka #tchalla #dora milaje #njobu #prince njobu

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Vol. 2 Update Soon Come...

Chapter 23 coming soon!

It’s coming down to the conclusion y’all. Three chapters left! There’s still a lot in store for N’Jobu, Califia, and little Erik:

Erik makes a discovery about his father that threatens the sanctity of his family.

N’Jobu begins the meticulous rollout of his rebellion with the War Dogs who side with him against Wakanda’s seclusion.

Califia struggles with the incident in Sao Paulo, Brazil that Erik still suffers from as an adult in “Wet Sugar” (Y’all know everything I write is interconnected and essentially one big epic tale--the past, present, and future are circular), and a revelation about N’Jobu makes her question their future together.

It’s been a trip and a half completing the first two volumes about this little family trying to keep it together in Oakland and beyond.

And to think, it only came into being because I couldn’t find any fics that filled in the missing gap in the Black Panther movie--Where was Erik’s mother?-- and a bitch had to write it herself!

Okay, back on that laptop doing double time with this and Wet Sugar!

Typing, typing, typing...

#njobu #njobu started all this shit #erik stevens #erik killmonger #njadaka #war dogs #wakanda #black panther fanfiction #klaue #black boys bloom thorns first series #killmonger imagine #njobu x oc

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2 Chapter 20

Your girl, she go hard in the baste Swangin' on them, swangin' on them, swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain) And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain)

Solange—"Sound of Rain"

Ungubani?

Who are you?

I asked this question of myself many times. Often times, I do not know. But I do know I am no longer the man my country knew. Maybe love? My son?

It has all changed me. T'Chaka must see what we can do, how we can change the course of time for the people who struggle so much in this land. Strangers to me, but my brothers and sisters still. How can I look at them, with the same skin as me, stolen from the same place I came from and not reach out to them? How can I sit idly by and watch in pain and return to Wakanda as if there was nothing to see at all?

Who am I?

A war dog who will not leave the lost tribe behind again. Who are you, my son? You will ask this one day and know the answer: N'Jadaka, son of N'Jobu.

My son.

###

My woman is in pain. We have been back home for a month since Lia's death, and I am set to leave for Wakanda and I am frightened. As a family, we have gone to three sessions with Dr. Davis. I thank Bast that children have the resilience to bounce back from tragedy. Our son struggles. He has good days and bad days, but most of his bad days come from his worry over Califia.

She is not faring well.

She has lost weight from not eating and she suffers from insomnia. She has taken leave from work and spends days in bed. The most that she allows me to do for her is to hold her at night and look after Erik. She self-medicates with edibles so that Erik won't smell marijuana smoke on her.

Lia's family has planned a private memorial for her, and I do not want Califia or Erik to go. She is furious with me, even though Lia's entire family and her own family agree that she and Erik should stay in the States for now. There are plans for a large public memorial next year. There have been protests and marches throughout Brazil and other parts of the world in solidarity with Lia's memory. Califia's pain and anger and lack of concern for her health make me question whether I can trust her to care for Erik when I am gone. Dante and Nana Jean have made plans to step in for me along with Rolita. Dante questions why I have to leave for a month when Califia needs me and the only thing that saves me from his questioning is that I tell him I must work to cover the bills since Califia isn't working. 

I have been bringing Erik over to my apartment to give him some semblance of a normal home life and to also give Califia privacy when her crying gets bad and she begs me to take our son away so he doesn't have to see her. On those days I call Rolita to watch her, and I make the time alone with my son the best that I can. James hangs with us a lot, and he has been a source of strength when I can't speak to Bakari. Erik is crazy about James, and they spend a lot of time playing video games together and streaming anime.

Erik is asleep in my apartment bedroom and I write this on my couch. Tomorrow we will go home to his mother and I will cook for both of them. I miss my woman so much. I miss touching her in that way. I miss kissing her. I miss her laughter. I miss her being that incredible mother to my son. I miss us.

###

This man Klaue will meet with me in the Netherlands. Sita has found a safe place for us to interact. A place that we can control access to. When I return to Wakanda I will know for sure who I can count on among the war dogs. I will also have to gain all access codes in order to lay my hands on the Vibranium I need. I have someone in place that I have turned who can help me. I just have to keep T'Chaka off of my back. He has been very open about keeping me close to him on this trip home. Zinzi has been cryptic about what's been happening, so I suspect she is being watched carefully too because of our closeness.

My meeting with Klaue has to go off without a hitch because my only chance to see him without surveillance right now is when I fly home. I made sure to choose a flight with a long layover in Northern Europe. I will have six hours to feel this man out. If I can use him, I will. Sita was right about him in one respect; he is a little whore for money. My research on him tells me he is willing to do anything for it.

###

N'Jobu dressed in warm layers and kept his dark glasses on when he entered the small villa in Amsterdam. He made sure to enter the country under an alias and not as Prince N'Jobu so he wouldn't have to bring any Doras with him. Sita came as his personal guard and even though she had secured the property and hired extra protection under her control, she was still wary of Klaue. Klaue was told to come alone and was watched and followed to make sure he did what he was told. N'Jobu gave orders to kill him on site if he did not acquiesce to all of his demands for secrecy. N'Jobu would not reveal his identity to the man. All that he was told was that some goods would need to be secretly couriered out of the country in the future and there was a handsome reward for his services if he should be used.

The semi-detached modern-styled steel and glass villa had plenty of open space surrounding it to give N'Jobu's people eyes on the meeting at all times. Snipers were in position, and if the meeting went left, Klaue would be disposed of and N'Jobu would go home and find someone else to ferry the Vibranium out.

Sitting at a small table facing the main glass entrance, N'Jobu and Sita watched a lone brown Mercedes meander up the winding driveway and park.

A short messy brown-haired man in an ill-fitting suit stepped from the driver's door and scanned the villa. One of Sita's hired hands stepped forward and patted Klaue down while another kept a gun trained on him.

"Great welcome committee!" Klaue shouted out loud enough so that N'Jobu could hear him.

Stepping into the villa, Klaue had a nervous swagger about him that was more bravado and posturing rather than real confidence. The Black faces that stared at him as he stood before N'Jobu had the man second-guessing who he was fucking with.

Klaue smelled of an over-dosing of expensive Italian cologne and poor personal hygiene. His greasy-looking hair and body odor offended N'Jobu. The poor-fitting suit was expensive but not tailor-made and looking at the man from head to toe, the watery light eyes, the liver lips, and a hodge-podge of tattoos on his arms, he could tell the little man was new to expensive tastes. N'Jobu's nose crinkled and he pointed to the chair seated across from him. Klaue sat down.

"Well, I'm here. Let's talk," Klaue said, "Mind if I smoke?"

N'Jobu gave a slight nod.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Klaue said slowly reaching into his suit pocket. He lit up a spicy-smelling thin cigarette.

"Ashtray?" Klaue asked.

Sita placed a glass of water in front of him.

"Wakanda," Klaue said.

N'Jobu stayed silent. This made Klaue even more nervous.

He studied the Afrikaner a little more. The future of his immediate family, Califia and Erik, depended on this thin rat-looking thing sitting before him. The only way N'Jobu could help the Black diaspora was through getting his hands on enough Vibranium to support a world-wide revolution. And the irony of it all was that a racist White South African was going to help jumpstart that revolution. And unbeknownst to Klaue, helping N'Jobu would usher in his own demise, the end of White Supremacy and the end of all of those who supported it, even other Black and non-Black people of color.

Sita stepped forward and handed Klaue a small satchel. The man opened it. His eyes seemed impressed.

"Just for showing up? Twenty-Five thousand in U.S. dollars?" Klaue said.

N'Jobu nodded. When he felt the man was going to burst if he didn't speak soon, N'Jobu folded his hands in his lap.

"Your record is clean. And when things have gone awry, you disappear. I like that."

"He speaks!" Klaue exclaimed, holding his hands up and looking around the room smiling hard. Not one Black face gave him warmth.

"This is just part of a retainer. If I like what I hear, then you will receive another seventy-five thousand to help collect your team within the next year," N'Jobu said.

Klaue leaned forward while listening to N'Jobu's voice. He pointed to N'Jobu's face.

"You're…you're not just some radical. The way you talk…you are a higher up—"

"Who he is, that is not your business. You are here to listen and do what we ask," Sita hissed, moving closer to him, her hand on a gun holstered to her hip.

N'Jobu whispered to her in Wakandan to chill. The three other war dogs in the room along with the three hired hands stepped closer, letting Klaue know to watch his mouth.

"I get the feeling that what I am asked to retrieve aren't just some priceless artifacts," Klaue said, the smile sliding off of his face, "Human trafficking?"

This was the part of the conversation N'Jobu was waiting for. The part he wished he didn't have to divulge, but he had to because even though Vibranium was undetectable to outside modern metal detectors and such, it wasn't stable, and Klaue would have to be shown how to smuggle it out safely.

N'Jobu motioned with his fingers for Sita to bring forth the sample of Vibranium enclosed in a protective capsule.

The luminous electric blue glow mesmerized Klaue's eyes. The man's mouth slipped open.

"Fuck it to hell…" he said standing up when the phosphorescent capsule was placed in his hand, "is this really…is this-?"

"Vibranium," N'Jobu said watching Klaue closely.

"I'm in—"

"We still have to discuss my terms and timetable—" "I don't care! I am in. Whatever your terms or timetable. I already know you will pay me well."

Klaue regarded N'Jobu with gleaming eyes. Sita took the Vibranium from Klaue's fingers and he tracked the luminous glow as she placed it in N'Jobu's hand.

"That small amount right there is worth millions. How much more do you have?" Klaue asked.

"Let us speak about your operation. How quickly can you organize a retraction team?"

Klaue took the hint that he would not be told more about their holdings. It was all need to know moving forward.

"Three to four months tops."

"Understand, I will wipe out you and your people if at any time I suspect chicanery."

"I am a professional. I do thorough background checks on all my people. You've done your homework, I'm sure."

"Talk to me," N'Jobu said leaning back in his seat.

The greasy-haired man in the ill-fitting suit leaned forward, a full smile widening his mouth and showing the glint of cheap gold-rimmed teeth.

"I will tell you all that you want to know," Klaue said.

And he did.

###

On the ride to the airport in the secured SUV, Sita kept staring at N'Jobu's face.

"What do you think, Your Highness?" she asked.

"We should not trust him at all, but he has the juice to get what we need to be done completed."

"Will I see you again on your way back to the States?" she asked.

"Yes. D'Beke will join us and we can begin."

Sita's face looked pleased. She even gave him a smile.

"What is happening at home?"

Sita's smile faded.

"The King….your brother…he has been putting dissenters in jail."

"What?"

"There have been political protests taking place in several Birnans. There's a new spiritualist cult that has had some major growth in followers who have been causing problems. Some protests have become rather violent, and King T'Chaka has taken in leaders and incarcerated them."

"What are they protesting exactly?"

"The lack of democracy in a monarchy. What else? The lack of freedom they have to practice their religion—"

"The Udaku family has never shunned nor stopped religious freedom from marginal religions—"

"Maybe in the past. Maybe when your father was King. But King T'Chaka…he is not so tolerant these days. He claims it is an affront to the crown, a wedge issue to fracture the power of his throne."

"You believe this, Sita? Speak freely."

"I believe what I see, and I have seen even moderate dissenters vilified by your brother."

"But jail-?"

"There was talk that one of the incarcerated planned to assassinate the King."

N'Jobu's body jerked when he heard that. His kimoyo beads heated up and N'Jobu tapped his earbud.

"T'Chaka," N'Jobu said.

Sita remained quiet while he took the call by audio only.

###

Califia carefully flipped over the waffle she made for Erik onto a plate.

"JaJa!"

She heard her son's feet running down the stairs, and by the time he reached the kitchen, she had his plate on the kitchen table next to a glass of grape juice.

"Hot off the griddle," she said.

Erik studied her face and she gave him a healthy smile. His face relaxed and he sat at the table.

She passed him the butter and syrup and helped herself to a piece of sausage. Erik watched her plate.

"Got my appetite back," she said.

He gave her some dimples and she forced herself to eat even though she really didn't want to. She made up her mind to force herself through this pain. She was hurt when N'Jobu told her that he wasn't sure that she could handle their household while he was gone. She counted on him to care for Erik while she fell apart, but it fractured their relationship when he treated her like an irresponsible child. Calling people to watch her and Erik when he left the house. Each time she cried, the look on his face made her feel like he wished she could just get over what happened to Lia quickly so that she could cater to him once more.

Their last night together before he left for Wakanda was pleasant, almost their regular interaction as a family. She worked hard to show him that she was capable of being present for their son. It was also the first time they had sex together since Lia's death, and she only did it to please him, to make him feel like she was okay even when she didn't feel okay. It took her a long time to get self-lubricated, but their kissing took up a lot of time and allowed her body to ease into sex before he could notice that her senses were not in tune with his.

N'Jobu kissed her mouth for a long time before his hands even reached for her breasts or even tried to touch her between her legs. He was so happy and touch-starved for her that his focus was on sections of her. Her lips. Her tongue. Her throat. The tender spots behind her ears. The space between her breasts. Her nipples. Her belly. Her inner thigh and hips.

He kissed and licked her vulva as if it was his first time being down there, and by then, she was wet enough to accommodate his desperate erection. The moans and raspy grunts that fell inside her ear as he pumped in an out of her pleased her. She could still take care of him physically even if she wasn't really there emotionally for him. She opened her legs wide and when she looked up into his face, it was contorted in deep pleasure. His forehead creased tighter and he was exhaling hard pants.

"Califia…Califia…"

Back in Brazil she was depressed, anxious, and scared about his leaving, hungry for any physical contact with him. But now? She was ready for him to leave. She needed to grieve longer without the judgment in his eyes, without him making her feel guilty if she broke down in the middle of the day.

She put her pussy on him thrust for thrust and held his shoulders, her breath coming out faster as she felt him reaching his peak.

"Daddy—"

N'Jobu's lips thrust out when she said that.

"You ready for Daddy to cum?"

"Yeah—"

"Tell Daddy you want him to cum—"

"Jobu—"

"Tell me Califia…baby…tell me…"

He was gasping, twisting her leg to get leverage for more friction.

"…this pussy…" he growled in her ear.

"Yeah," she exhaled.

She could feel the solid fullness that his dick always filled her up with, but she wasn't really feeling anything, not in the way she wanted to but could not reach because of the trauma she was clinging to. She wished she could let go like him. Use sex to get a mental release. Her body wasn't giving her any signs of wanting to orgasm. And N'Jobu's dick was going at her hard as fuck. Their bed was shaking.

She wanted this to end before she started crying in the way that would upset him. She cradled his head and pressed her lips close to his ear.

"Cum in your pussy, Daddy…"

She dragged out the word Daddy so that it sounded reckless and raw and she felt her man seize up tight then thrust his hips into her hard, his voice gone. The swelled pulses coming from his dick only secured the knowledge that a flood of hot semen was coating her insides. She would still be dripping his seed even when he was flying across the Atlantic. And a nut that good to him would only encourage him to seek more.

He kissed her lips and along her neck, and when he pulled out of her, his mouth sought to eat her folds to make her cum. But she pulled him back up and hugged him. Once he realized she didn't want any more sexual contact, he held her tight and rocked her in his arms.

"You okay?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

"I'm fine. I just want to make you feel good."

"Let me take care of you, baby."

"You did," she said playing with the thick ejaculate spilling from her pussy. His eyes watched her fingers and he stroked his dick.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, his voice getting tight from seeing her shove her fingers inside her pussy.

"I'll miss you too," she said.

She played with her pussy lips for him until he lost it.

"Look how you make me nut!" he cried out, shooting cum on her fingers as she held her labia open for him. He had soaked up their sheets with his sweat and cum, but he held her on top of him until he fell asleep. When he was softly snoring, she crawled off of him and showered. Cleaning her body, she let her tears fall with the warm water flowing over her.

Her thoughts snapped back to Erik, and she surprised herself by eating more than she thought she would. Maybe her appetite had finally returned. Maybe she could get it together while N'Jobu was gone.

"We're going to see Grandpop and Nana Jean today," she said.

"Cool," Erik said stuffing his mouth with waffle.

"Baba, leave a voice message yet?" she asked.

"No. He texted that he made it to Atlanta. I missed the call on my phone," he said.

Califia had checked her phone, but nothing was there. He probably thought she was sleeping in again. At least he texted. She knew he was in Amsterdam for a layover. He always sent an email from a burner account when he made it to Wakanda.

Erik was watching her again.

"What?" she asked smiling at him.

"Nothin'. You look happy."

"I am happy."

Erik picked at his plate unsure of something.

"We're going to be okay, baby."

"I know you miss Auntie Lia, Mom. I miss her too."

The sound of her name still hurt and Califia felt her eyes prick with water. She fought to be strong. Their first day alone together and she didn't want her son to feel unsure of her. She crammed a sausage in her mouth and picked up a glass of orange juice.

"Nana wants to know what you want for dinner."

"Pizza—"

"Pizza? Nana said she was cooking and you want pizza? Boy, are you crazy!"

Erik giggled. He drank his juice and pushed back his plate.

"Enchiladas."

"That's better," she said.

After she cleaned up the kitchen, she drove them over to her grandmother's and as they walked up the hill to reach the house, they found Dante inside the garage working on his latest project; restoring a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, midnight black, a pure brute swinging 450-horsepower battle axe.

Dante was on a roller under the car when they saw him.

"Hey now!" he said.

"Grandpop!" Erik squealed.

Dante rolled out from under the car and picked Erik up. He gave Califia a kiss on her cheek and patted her shoulder.

"Looking good, Cali," he said.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"There's my baby!"

Nana Jean walked out from the front porch.

"Nana, stay up there, we'll come up," Califia said heading toward her grandmother.

Erik ran past her and hugged Nana Jean's waist.

"Dayclean make it okay?" she asked.

"Yes," Califia said.

"Good."

Nana Jean made Erik help her fold laundry while Califia cleaned up the kitchen for her grandmother to make her enchiladas later in the day. Keeping busy with her family kept her mind away from sadness and she felt good. Real good.

She went into the small family room to do some dusting of cobwebs and family photos and her eyes caught sight of an old picture on the fireplace mantle of her and N'Jobu on the porch holding Erik when he was a baby and Califia felt her chest grow tight.

Seeing N'Jobu's face took her breath away and she felt guilty. Guilty for not giving all of herself to him before he left. Not just her body and mind, but her spirit as well. Lia was about moving forward, no matter what, and Califia let herself get stuck because of the rage she still felt. Erik was so adorable as a baby and the memory of that day weighed on her. She had sent that exact picture to Lia and Soliel, and Lia had texted her the moment she received it and told her to raise her son up well and strong.

She pulled her cell from her jean pocket and called N'Jobu's burner phone. The voicemail picked up right away.

"N'Jobu…baby, I miss you. Call me when you make it there…when you can get privacy. We're over at Nana's and everything is good. I just…I want you to know that I'm here. I'm here for our son, and I'm here for myself. I'm here for you. I need to hear your voice, okay?"

She wiped away a tear and smiled, still looking at the picture and his beautiful face. Those gorgeous teeth. Those full lips. The lips he gave their little boy. Those eyes that Erik also had—

Her cell buzzed and she recognized the burner number. She swiped her screen.

"Califia."

His voice made her gasp. Erik walked up next to her.

"Mom…"

"It's Baba," she said, wrapping her arm around Erik's shoulder.

"I'm leaving for Wakanda soon. I'm so glad you called me," he said.

"Babe…I've been so lost since we came home. I know you have tried your best to be understanding. I was stuck—"

"I know, my love, I know—"

"I promise you that you can have faith in me getting through this—"

"If I made you feel—"

"I shut everything out and made you take care of everything. It wasn't right. I'm standing here in Nana's family room and she has the picture of you and me when we first brought Erik here. I saw your face, baby…I saw your face and I forgot that you need me too…"

She could hear his voice shuddering over the phone like she had made him cry. He exhaled hard.

"I love you," he said, his voice soft and full of longing.

"I love you too…hey, quickly, talk to Erik before you have to turn your phone off," she said.

She handed the phone to Erik.

"Baba…yes…yes. I will. Uh, huh. They are fine. I know…I will. I love you too. Okay…"

Erik handed the phone back to Califia. She wiped her eyes with her free hand. Her nose felt runny.

"My love. There are some potential problems back home. My brother has some political dissenters, so I may not be able to speak to you as often as you would like. But don't worry. I will text and email you when I can—"

"You'll be safe right?"

"I will be fine. My brother will need me around him more, and because of that, I won't have a lot of privacy for security reasons."

"Okay," she said. He had confidence in his voice, and she knew that once he was in Wakanda, he would have his Doras with him. And those sistas did not play.

"Tell me you love me again," he said.

"I love you…we both love you very much—"

"Bye, Baba!" Erik yelled into the phone.

"Until I see you both again. Be well, my love."

Her lip trembled a little when he was gone. She looked down at Erik.

"Shall we go help Grandpop with the car?"

Erik nodded. He threw his arms around her waist and pressed his head into her chest.

"Don't worry, Mom. Baba will be back soon."

She stroked his hair and kissed the top of his forehead.

###

For security precautions, N'Jobu was escorted into Wakanda over the border of Canaan inside a military Tusk Fighter aircraft instead of one of the Royal crafts. Once he was flown secretly into the country, he was driven by a super discreet convoy with Ometeko and Yejide by his side. His two faithful Doras were thrilled to see him, but also hyper vigilante in watching over him as they moved through several Birnans to get to the golden one of his birth.

His parents greeted him under the cover of darkness as he was ushered into the palace.

His mother could not stop touching him, exclaiming that he looked a bit worn. Lia's death and his family struggles hovered over him, but speaking to Califia and Erik earlier in the day made him feel confident that he could get through this check-in.

As he walked through the palace and headed up to his brother's private suite, he thought of Califia and how their last night together was so one-sided in affection. He wanted her so bad that night.

After he had put Erik to bed and joined Califia in their bedroom, she was fully naked under the covers. He hadn't seen or felt her nude body in so long that the moment he slipped under the covers and felt her naked thigh and hip touch him, the thickening of his penis didn't take long. When she had allowed him to penetrate her, it felt different. She was going through the motions but he couldn't quite get her to connect with his pleasure. They had always had the ability to create a mesmerizing feedback loop in their intimacy, but that time, it didn't happen. Instead of stopping, he became selfish and took what she gave because he missed her sexually. He needed her body. He needed to feel her tight ring of muscles surrounding his manhood. He needed to feel those big tits and see them bouncing. He needed to feel his semen spurting inside of her, his sack draining weeks of build-up. He let his desire for her override any reason to stop and make sure she matched his vibe.

At that moment, the sex was great for him, but it was like the sex he had while in school; all about the pleasure that his dick got without concerns about love or the other emotional aspects of two humans connecting. They didn't make love. He just fucked her. And he was all about the fucking because he hadn't had it in so long.

But talking to her…hearing her tell him that she would be fine…she made him cry. She made him determined to push forth and plan the best strategy to free them all.

The elevator ride up to T'Chaka's suite felt long, but once he stepped out with Ometeko and Yejide by his side, his dip had returned to his step. His entrance into T'Chaka's private quarters was full of confidence.

"Uncle N'Jobu!"

T'Challa's voice surprised him and when N'Jobu turned to look at his nephew, his eyes grew wide for a second at how much older he looked. The twelve-year-old appeared before him in his royal purple pajamas, his once full head of curly hair cut short and tapered. His voice even sounded different. Clearly, puberty was upon him. N'Jobu's heart ached staring at him. He held out his arms and his nephew ran into them, hugging him hard.

"My nephew! What are you doing up so late?"

"I wanted to see you as soon as you arrived. I have missed you so much, Uncle!"

"Oh! How I have missed you too!"

N'Jobu saw his brother enter the room. No smile on his face. Just worry. And something else. Indignation.

N'Jobu saw another young boy standing off to the side, his big round eyes shyly watching N'Jobu as if he were in awe.

"And who is this?" N'Jobu asked, waving his hand for the child to step forward.

"W'Kabi, stop acting scared. It is only my Uncle. Uncle N'Jobu, this is my best friend, W'Kabi," T'Challa said.

"W'Kabi…W'Kabi? Why do I know your name?" N'Jobu asked. He could see the child wearing a blue night robe with the Border Tribe's dark blue sigil sewn into the collar. A horseman with a fluttering blanket wrapped around the shoulders.

"My father protects the borderlands, Your Highness," the boy said. He bowed his head to N'Jobu.

"Tankiso is his father,' T'Chaka said.

N'Jobu did his best to keep his reaction neutral. He knew the boy's father. Tankiso would be N'Jobu's inside man to help him smuggle the Vibranium out of Wakanda and into Niganda with Klaue when the time came.

"Pleased to meet you, W'Kabi," N'Jobu said. He held out his hand to shake, and W'Kabi stared at T'Challa first and then T'Chaka.

"Do not be foolish, W'Kabi, you can shake my Uncle's hand. He is a Prince like me. Not the King!" T'Challa laughed.

W'Kabi smiled and took N'Jobu's hand. It was a firm handshake and N'Jobu was impressed by the confidence he felt there.

"Alright, boys. Off to bed now. Prince N'Jobu and I must talk," T'Chaka said heading toward his private bar.

"Goodnight, Uncle," T'Challa said hugging N'Jobu once more. W'Kabi bowed and N'Jobu watched the two children leave the suite followed by T'Challa's personal Dora.

"They are like brothers," T'Chaka said handing N'Jobu a small glass of plum liquor.

Brothers.

If Erik were here, he would probably join along with his cousin, the three boys staying up late and giggling, maybe even running around the palace in secret like he and T'Chaka did when they were young boys long ago.

N'Jobu sipped the plum liquor thinking of his son. Erik would wear the silk robes of the Golden Tribe, N'Jobu's family sigil sewn into the collar. He could imagine hearing the sound of Erik's sweet laughter ricocheting off the high walls and ceilings of the Eastern Palace. The soft patter of Califia's feet would probably echo in the halls as she would no doubt be the one to hustle the boys back to bed. For a second, N'Jobu closed his eyes and tried to see her wearing his royal robes and returning to the large bed in his suite down below. He so wanted to make real love to her again. Body and soul together.

"No problems getting into the country, Baby Brother?"

"No," N'Jobu said opening his eyes back up and finishing the plum liquor.

"Sit," T'Chaka said.

N'Jobu padded over to the couch near the expansive window that reflected the twinkling of city lights below.

"Things are not well here."

"I have been made aware," N'Jobu said.

"Your thoughts?"

"I am shocked that the one man you have imprisoned, the one they say tried to plot an assassination…what proof do you really have to keep him incarcerated—"

"Proof? Are you implying that I would just throw someone into confinement just on a whim?"

"From what I have gathered on my own there has only been speculation and flexing—"

"Would you have me wait for outright harm to come to me or to someone in our family first?"

"Of course not—"

"Then why question my rule?"

"Will this man have a trial?"

T'Chaka waved his hand at N'Jobu.

"Enough. No more talk of this. It is not your concern."

T'Chaka poured more plum liquor into his glass and he held up the bottle for N'Jobu.

N'Jobu took the bottle and poured more in his own glass. They both sipped and eyed each other. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," T'Chaka said.

Whoa.

A voluptuous young woman with flashing eyes stepped into the room wearing a long mauve River Tribe styled evening tunic.

"Your Highness," she said, keeping her eyes respectfully downcast when she saw N'Jobu. She was beautiful, her hair tied back allowing her thick braids to fall down her back and N'Jobu knew exactly what she was there for.

"Prince N'Jobu, let us speak more in the morning. Breakfast with Baba and Umama in the sunroom?"

"Yes," N'Jobu said, standing up. He glanced at the woman again and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over what his brother was playing with at night. He knew for a fact that T'Chaka had several women in rotation for many years. It drove their parents crazy. Umama in particularly hated mistresses being anywhere near the palace, no matter who they were messing around with. Rumor had it that their own father tried to have a young plaything early in his marriage to their mother, but Umama took an ancient knife that allegedly belonged to the very first Black Panther, Bashenga, and threatened to cut off his scrotum and end the entire royal line of Udaku forever if he ever brought another woman into the palace. The fact that he and T'Chaka existed let N'Jobu know that his Baba must've stayed on the straight and narrow. There was no doubt that his mother would kill their father and any woman he had back then or now.

No wonder they wanted T'Chaka married again.

"This is Dineo. She will accompany you to your suite."

N'Jobu's eyes widened.

"A nice homecoming companion for you. It must be tough to find a beauty like this out there," T'Chaka said winking.

Crude. Distasteful. What was this? From his own brother?

Dineo allowed her eyes to rest on N'Jobu's face and he saw her lips part when she got a good look at him.

"Goodnight, T'Chaka," N'Jobu said putting his drink glass on the bar and leaving the room. Dineo followed him and Yejide followed them both.

When N'Jobu reached the private elevator, he turned to her.

"I do not need you," he whispered discreetly so Yejide didn't hear. Not that she didn't already know what Dineo was there for.

"I must accompany you to your suite regardless. The King has demanded this. Please, do not cause me trouble, Your Highness."

Dineo rode the elevator with him down to his suite.

When they reached the outside of his quarters, Ometeko looked shocked to see Dineo at his heels.

"Do not ask," he said to Ometeko as he swept into his space.

Dineo was right behind him when the doors swung shut.

"I am here. You can leave," he said, surprised that the woman even stepped into his private sphere.

Dineo fingered her braids and then allowed her long lashes to flutter as she placed her gaze fully on his face, all pretense of deference gone. She wanted to be there with him. Gently tugging on the clasps that held her tunic closed, the loose clothing dropped to her feet.

Shit.

Her nipples stood at attention as she played with them, and all those curves that the tunic hinted at earlier were more than true once fully revealed.

"I am here for you, Your Highness," she whispered.

"I understand that, however—"

"I hear you are known to make women cry when you make love to them, Your Highness."

He hadn't had sex with a woman in Wakanda for almost a decade.

"Dineo—"

"I have heard all the stories from here to Azania about you. I want you to make me cry," she said stepping toward him.

If this were another time, he would be all over this girl and rearranging her insides. But he had a woman at home that knocked him off of his feet, even five thousand miles away.

He turned his back on her and headed to his bedroom.

"Do not make me have you escorted out, Dineo," he tossed over his shoulder as he pressed his kimoyo beads opening his suite's front doors.

"Your Highness," Ometeko called into the space without entering.

"Please see to it that Dineo makes it back to her own home," N'Jobu said before slamming his bedroom door shut.

###

"N'Jobu."

His body relaxed when he saw Califia's face on his computer.

She was snug in their bed inside their townhouse.

"Erik is still asleep. Do you want me to wake him?"

"No, let him sleep. I sent him a recorded video for him to see when he wakes."

"How are things?"

"I'm still feeling things out. My brother is dealing with some political dissenters, some policy changes...blah, blah, blah." He tried to make things sound mundane to comfort her.

"You're not tired? You should be exhausted."

"I am," he said.

"It's raining here," she said, "a good clean rain. Everything smells so good outside."

"You sound well, my love."

"It's the rain. It makes me feel brand new. But it's not the same without you here to enjoy it with me."

She sat up in bed and he saw that she was nude.

"Baby, really? You know I'm on the other side of the world and you sit up there onscreen with those beautiful tits teasing me?"

She fondled her nipples for him.

"You're killing me over here," he said.

She really was, he felt his cock fatten in his pants.

"Let me really put you six feet under then," she said, peeling back the covers, showing him already plump glistening folds.

"Were you playing with yourself?"

"Mmmhmmm, right before you called," she sighed, her fingers plying her labia open.

"Fuck…Califia…"

N'Jobu groaned loud in his room and yanked down his pants.

Three fingers deep, Califia fingerfucked herself for him as he damn near stroked all the skin off of his dick.

When she came calling his name while staring at him, her legs spread wide, he shot thick ropes of his own cum onto his chest. He fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling on their skylight and her fingers playing with her clit ring, her voice softly telling him she loved him.

It was a blissful rest.

Chapter 21 HERE.

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[uzumaki-rebellion]

Fic Writing Life: Young Ramonda is Getting on My Nerves...

I am really fighting this soon-to-be-bride of T’Chaka in “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chp 22, my WIP. I love her, but she and N’Jobu are having it out in the Royal Garden and she is really coming on a little too strong for my tastes. It’s really making me look at her in a new light. And even though I am the one making this stuff up, I still get surprised when these characters get out of pocket or act a little inappropriate with my N’Jobu (who is struggling to turn other War Dogs his way).

How many others out there who are writing fics find your creations going left when you clearly told them you were going right? Lol! THEY DO NOT LISTEN!

Anyhoo, a new ‘Wet Sugar” update will go up after this BBBTF Vol. 2 update. Writing both simultaneously, but ole girl is trippin’ and I have to see how Prince N’Jobu is going to check her before T’Chaka gets the wrong idea.

Meanwhile, Erik is still at Club Rush in St. Thomas with Yani tryna to figure how to make her swing his way.

Typing, typing, typing....

#Killmonger Njobu Klaue #killmonger #klaue #black panther fanfiction #njadaka #wet sugar #black boys bloom thorns first #Prince N'Jobu is all that #ramonda trippin'

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Writing 1st Meet Ups for Klaue

As I mentioned before, I am in the midst of writing N’Jobu’s first meeting with Klaue in “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Vol. 2: Chp 20″ while I am also writing Erik’s first meeting with Klaue too. It’s been fun fashioning a young Klaue dealing with a boss ass N’Jobu as opposed to a much older Klaue not knowing that meeting Erik for the first time is the march to his doom.

I’m hoping to have the next update on N’Jobu and Klaue up late tonight or tomorrow (Chp. 20 of BBBTF Vol 2 for those who are reading that). Erik’s first meeting story “Wet Sugar” won’t appear until after “Say Less” is complete. Although, I may give a short pre-view of Erik and Klaue as a teaser.

I’m trying my best to use this vacation time I have to write all the content I can. As always thanks to my readers and all those new folks following me recently. I’m making a tag list so I can keep folks updated. Hi to all those who let me know to add them.

I swear I’m going to get to my T’Challa and M’Baku stories, but these Udaku men on N’Jobu’s side got me hemmed up tight! I just love them.

#killmongersmut #killmonger #erik killmonger #erik stevens #erikstevens #blackpanther #black panther #black panther smut #njadaka #njadakasmut #njobusmut #njobu #princenjobu #black panther killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #klaue #marveluniverse #marvel #ulysseusklaue #klaw

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 19

"You've been feeling kinda juiced up Seeing things in a new light I know you've been through stuff, but I wonder if you're too righteous 'Cause lately people going crazy I think you should stay 'Cause I just want you safe Baby, I know that you're angry Feeling like your fate on the line

Maybe you should stay the night Maybe you should stay the night Maybe you should stay the night Why don't you stay the night Baby just stay the night…"

"Stay The Night" – The Internet

N'Jobu felt his heart wrench itself from his chest and lodge into his throat. Throngs of people were milling around the community center, most were crying and wandering in a daze.

Grabbing his bag from the cab, he made his way into the center looking for any familiar face. His cell rang.

"Hello?!"

"N'Jobu, it's Bakari, what the hell happened?"

"I just left the airport. I'm trying to find Califia and Erik."

Bakari was close to crying and N'Jobu felt himself about to lose it. He needed to free his phone.

"I will contact you when I find them. She's not answering her cell."

"Okay, okay…I'm trying to find info online. I just see two people killed…were Erik and Cali with her in the car?" Bakari asked.

"Yes—"

"Jesus Christ…."

"I'll call you when I can."

N'Jobu hung up and immediately his cell buzzed again.

"N'Jobu. I thought you were on the plane already? I was going to leave you a message. I can't reach Cali…My God, Lia-"

"I already know, I'm trying to find them now—"

"N'Jobu, please find my babygirl and my grandson."

"I will."

He hung up and saw an older woman he recognized from the dinner they attended to celebrate Lia.

"Allendra!" he called. The woman turned and when she saw his face, she hurried over to him with her cane. She shook from crying and grabbed N'Jobu's arms. Her Portuguese was fast and filled with moans. She shook and almost collapsed. N'Jobu helped move her to an empty seat in the community center.

"Soliel?" he asked trying to connect to anyone else. Allendra shook her head and a young man swooped in to care for her.

A group of people were gathered around a tv set watching a news report and N'Jobu caught the name of the area where Lia was killed. He entered it into his cell. It wasn't far from the center according to his GPS. He ran out into the street. It would be easier to get there on foot.

It was luck really.

Simple chance…

Califia sat with Erik at a full table facing a podium where Lia spoke to a large congregation of Black women leaders. The empowerment luncheon was a huge success and the wave of energy she felt being among so many Black Brazilian women leaders gave her goosebumps.

Erik sat next to her and listened to the women speakers who talked about the activism and the need for broad support from city to city. Lia asked Califia and Soliel to come up and share their work with their sister non-profit, The Alpha House.

Many of the women laughed and applauded when Califia and Soliel spoke of their work in Oakland and Sao Paulo. Califia could see Erik watching her, his eyes big with pride when Califia gave the Black Power salute and proclaimed "Power to the People" in Portuguese and many women jumped up to hold their fists in the air. Erik's expressive brown eyes looked around and he leaped to his feet and held up his fist in solidarity. She felt proud of him. She needed him to see Black women taking leadership in their hands. She didn't want him to think that Black men were the only leaders to follow in their community which traditionally was the case because of sexism, and men not being willing to step aside to share power. Or just let women lead period.

When she sat back in her seat, Erik gave her a high five and kept leaning his head against her arm. She put an arm around him and held him close. She thought he would prefer to spend the day with Marisol, but Erik wanted to come to the luncheon. He seemed to be mesmerized every time Lia spoke.

Lunch was actually very tasty and Erik ate his fill of grilled meats and seasoned rice and vegetables. Califia ate a lot too, but she wanted to save room for the dinner they would have later that evening with Lia's parents.

Leaving the luncheon was a whirlwind of women trying to talk to Lia, and many approaching her and Soliel about creating more international sister non-profits. Califia met a woman from Recife who wanted to create an organization and rites of passage program for young Black girls. The vibe was so uplifting. She felt like she wanted to cry because the work she had been doing all those years with her sister-friends was paying off with coalition building and tangible results that were shifting the axis of power in low-income communities. Global change was possible, but it was slow and tedious and not supported by many. As Lia told her once: baby steps. One foot in front of the other and no looking back. Califia began to think about running for office back in Oakland. Why not? Follow in Lia's footsteps. Build bases of power in many cities. Black women taking over.

It was only because a young teenaged girl approached Califia and asked about young people in Sao Paulo reaching out to other teenagers in Oakland that she and Erik and didn't get into the SUV with Lia, Soliel and Lia's office aide Jacinto along with Lia's publicist Yolanda.

"We'll see you all at the house," Lia said stepping into the backseat of Jacinto's car.

"We'll ride with Aunjanue," Califia said as she waved to the young girl to wait for her.

"See you later nephew," Lia said giving Erik a hug. He held Lia's waist.

"I liked your speech," he said.

"I'm glad. Your mother was good too, no?"

"She's always good," Erik said glancing up at Califia with a big grin.

"Ah, thank you, Baby, Mommy tries," Califia said as she squeezed his big cheeks.

They watched Lia get into the car and Califia returned to the young girl. Speaking for a moment and exchanging contact info via cell phone, Califia promised the girl that she would connect her with some young people she worked with in Oakland. The teenager, with a thick head of braids and a gorgeous smile, gave Califia a big hug.

"You and Negra Lia and sister Soliel give me hope," she said.

Califia touched the girl's shoulder.

"No, you give me hope. More young women like you are the future," she said.

"Mom, Aunjanue wants us," Erik said.

"Do you want to go hang with Marisol at the house or go to the store with us?"

"Hang with Marisol," he said grabbing hold of her elbow with his arms.

They walked to Aunjanue's car and Califia took shotgun and Erik scrambled in the back with two other women who rode with Aunjanue to the luncheon. A flood of Black women left the luncheon and Califia watched them all disperse invigorated.

"You want some water, JaJa?" Califia asked taking a water bottle out of her purse.

"No," he said staring out the window.

Ahead of them by four cars, Califia could make out Jacinto's car.

"Lia didn't get very far," she said.

"Jacinto drives slow," Aunjanue said.

Simple chance or maybe divine providence…

Califia held up the bottle of water for Erik again to make sure he didn't want some and when he said no again, she turned her head…

A loud explosion rocked their ears. Aunjanue slammed on her car brakes and they saw a billowing cloud of smoke spewing from something on a sidewalk on the far end of the street. People began running around them and Califia saw a dark non-descript car race around Aunjanue's car.

"What's happening, Mom!?" Erik cried out. He thrust his body toward hers in the front seat.

Califia watched the driver of the nondescript car pump their brakes and jump out waving an automatic weapon. He began shooting directly into Jacinto's car, aiming for the back seat first.

"Get down!" Califia screamed at Erik, shoving his head down in the back seat. She ducked down with Aunjanue in the front, and when the gunshots ended and she heard the car speed away, only then did she raise up to look.

There was screaming in the streets with people covering their eyes and noses because of white smoke drifting everywhere. It smelled like something Califia was familiar with. Tear gas.

"Stay here, JaJa," Califia said jumping out of the car and running toward Jacinto's car covering her nose and mouth with part of her blouse.

She knew it was bad before she got to the car, and before she could really see the horror, a man reached out and shoved her back. Pipe bomb smoke blew their way stinging her eyes and she could hear Soliel screaming inside the bullet-ridden car.

"Mom!"

Califia looked behind her and saw Erik, wide-eyed and frightened watching her. He began coughing when the smoke reached his eyes. She ripped a bottom piece of her long skirt off and soaked it with the bottled water she still held in her hand. She snatched Erik and shoved the wet cloth onto his eyes and nose.

Erik shoved her hand away from his eyes and looked at Jacinto's car, his eyes tearing up from the smoke. They both saw Soliel stumble out of the car bleeding from her chest, her screams almost drowned out by the stampede of people full of panic and running over each other.

"Go!" Soliel screamed to Califia as she clutched her chest.

Califia shoved the cloth back over Erik's face and made him hold it. She lifted him up and ran with him.

"Don't look, Baby! Don't look….don't look!"

Aunjanue ran past them to reach Soliel.

"Get him away from here!" Aunjanue shouted to her.

Califia ran as fast and as far as she could.

She had to keep her child safe. No matter what happened to her sister-friends, she had to protect Erik first.

The streets were blocked by the policia federal by the time N'Jobu reached the area where Lia was gunned down. He was able to get a glimpse of the car they were in. He could see blood in the street, and more people were crowding around. The anger in the air was visceral. He saw rage on the faces of many people standing watch over the scene. Jacinto's SUV was surrounded by police tape and N'Jobu made his way past the car and further down toward the building the luncheon was held.

Inside, several people were being questioned by police and detectives, so N'Jobu made himself discreet as his eyes darted around looking for his woman and child.

"N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu whirled himself in the direction of the familiar voice. Andres.

The man looked like walking death. He carried two cups of water in his hand. N'Jobu ran to him.

"Come with me," Andres said, and N'Jobu followed him to an alcove.

"Califia!" N'Jobu yelled when he saw her.

She was seated in a chair with Erik lying across her lap. They both had red eyes and looked beyond distraught. Califia reached up for him and he sat next to her and hugged her. He couldn't hold back his emotions and cried into her hair as Erik sat up from her lap. He reached over and pulled Erik onto his lap as he wrapped his other arm around Califia.

"I saw it on the news at the airport."

"They killed her and her publicist. Jacinto just died on the way to the hospital. A car drove up and shot them all up. Soliel is in surgery now. N'Jobu, Erik saw her. He saw Soliel—"

Her face pressed into his neck and she wailed into him. He felt Erik falling apart with her and he willed himself to cease his tears. They needed him to be the strong one right now. He took in deep breaths and gave long exhales until he felt that he had control of his emotions and the tremors of fear and anger in his body. He wiped his eyes and looked at Andres.

"I'm so sorry," he said to the older man. Andres held out the water for Erik and Califia. N'Jobu made them drink it.

"Aunjanue called me to find them," Andres said looking at Califia and Erik, "I can't lose any more daughters."

"I need to go to the hospital," Califia said.

Andres knelt in front of her.

"I need to take you to go be with Marisol. We need you to look after her and Erik together. I will take you all to her. Aunjanue will stay at the hospital tonight with Soliel and my wife. I have to deal with the police and find out who killed my Lia."

N'Jobu had no idea how Andres held it together.

"The streets will be dangerous tonight. Too much anger. I need my family safe," Andres said.

N'Jobu nodded.

"Come. We should leave," Andres said standing up.

N'Jobu picked up Erik and threaded his fingers with Califia's. He knew she wanted to go to the hospital.

"My love, Marisol needs us. Soliel and Aunjanue would want us to be with their little girl."

"I know," Califia said, her face a waterfall of tears. He kissed her temple.

The ride in Andres' van was a challenge. So many people in the streets and so many police cars barricading many roads to control the flow of cars and bodies trying to get near the crime scene.

N'Jobu sat with Califia and Erik in the back. Her shudders into his neck as she continued crying wounded his soul. Erik seemed to want to be like N'Jobu, strong for his mother as he held her hand. His little soldier. Always wanting to protect Califia. The boy had wiped away his tears and kept his face stoic for her.

Lia's street was teeming with people. There were flowers and candles laid in front of the steps leading from the bottom to the top in front of her flat.

Two of Lia's and Soliel's older cousins, red-eyed and exhausted, greeted them with a weepy-faced Marisol. The moment Marisol saw Califia, she burst into tears and Califia picked her up and crooned soft noises into her ear as she rocked her on her hip. Erik patted Marisol's back as Califia took the girl to the main bedroom.

Andres turned to N'Jobu.

"We will be at the hospital until we know how Soliel's surgery goes. She took two bullets. One in the shoulder and one in the chest. They shot my Lia in the head—"

Andres broke down and N'Jobu grabbed him and held him tight. The older man rested his head on N'Jobu's shoulder.

"She was our champion. My first born. How could they do this to her?!"

Andres pressed his hands into his face and N'Jobu did his best to comfort him. He was in no shape to drive. One of the cousins decided to go with Andres and drive him to the hospital. The other cousin, an older woman with weary eyes offered to cook for N'Jobu and his family.

"Thank you," he said as he watched Andres leave for the hospital. The older cousin went into the kitchen and N'Jobu went to check on Califia and the children.

He found her on Lia's wide bed with both children at her side. Marisol was weeping softly on her lap and Erik was stroking her hair that spread loosely around her small shoulders. Califia patted Marisol's back and also stroked Erik's hair.

"Andres has gone to the hospital," N'Jobu said.

Marisol asked N'Jobu something in Portuguese that he couldn't make out because her voice was so soft and tired.

"She asked if her Mommy was going to be alright," Califia said.

The expression on Califia's face let him know that she needed reassurance from him just as much as Marisol did. Erik's somber brown eyes were also needing N'Jobu's confidence in the outcome. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the little girl.

"Your mother will be fine," he said. Marisol closed her eyes and turned her head to face Califia's stomach.

"For real, Baba?" Erik asked his eyes welling up.

"Come here," N'Jobu said holding out his arms for Erik. His son scrambled from under Califia's embrace and threw his arms around N'Jobu's neck. He felt the trembling in his son's slender frame.

"You can cry, my Son. You experienced something no child should have to see. I am sorry this happened. I am sorry you were there."

"I want to hurt them," Erik said, his warm breath blowing onto N'Jobu's neck, "I want you to get them, Baba. Make them pay—"

"Shh, JaJa…the police will find these people—"

"It was probably the police who did this," Califia hissed.

N'Jobu glanced at her, surprised by the sudden veracity in her voice. Her eyes had the look of revenge in them. The children didn't need to see this.

"Erik, do you think you can look after Marisol for a little bit?" N'Jobu asked. Erik shook his head and scooted back over to Califia.

"Can we talk in private?" N'Jobu asked.

Califia lifted Marisol from her lap laid the girl out on the bed next to Erik. Their son threw his arm around her shoulder. Marisol's big ebony eyes watched them leave the room.

N'Jobu pulled Califia into the smaller spare bedroom and closed the door.

He embraced her and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I couldn't reach you on your phone. I was terrified, Califia."

"It happened so fast. I left my purse in Aunjanue's car. There was an explosion…they set her up N'Jobu. They put a pipe bomb in a trash receptacle to stop the flow of cars so they could get her—"

"I know—"

"They had tear gas, and I saw the car go past us, I saw a man open fire—"

He felt her body go limp and he held her up.

"It was the police. I know it was. She planned on shaking up their cabal and they got rid of her…"

"We have to be brave for the children—"

"I want to kill the people who did this…I want them fucking dead and in the ground…"

She grabbed onto his shirt with her fists.

"Soliel jumped out of the car and screamed at us to get away. I just grabbed Erik and ran—"

"You did well, my love."

"She's dead—"

"Shh—"

"Soliel might die—"

"No—"

"We could lose them both."

He pressed his forehead into hers.

"Don't think that way. Think about Erik. Think about Marisol. They need to see you rise above this-"

She pushed away from him.

"How do I rise above this? That could've been us in the car! By a fluke, I got caught up with a young person who asked me a question and we didn't ride with Lia. Our son could be dead. I could be dead right now—"

"Califia, please….baby…you are here. You are both here. There is a little girl in there who has no idea what is happening to her other mother. We need to be here for her."

Califia's eyes closed and she drew in a long inhale. When she exhaled and opened her eyes, there was a resolve in them. He had reached her, turned her around for the moment. She grabbed onto his arms.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said.

He made her lay on the guest bed and went back to the other bedroom. Erik and Marisol had fallen asleep together, both curled up in the fetal position facing each other. N'Jobu went back to Califia and curled up next to her. He took out his phone and texted her father and mother and left a text for Bakari to inform all of their friends that they were safe.

For the second time that day, his kimoyo beads heated up. He ignored it. He would have to lie to T'Chaka. His family needed him. As soon as he could, he wanted to get them out of Brazil.

Late into the evening Aunjanue and Lia's parents returned to Lia's place.

Soliel was out of surgery and was expected to survive although she was still in critical condition. Close friends and other family squeezed into the home and the noise outside in the street was ferocious. The people there were a powder keg ready to blow.

The children had been fed and put back into bed. Marisol was calmer now that Aunjanue was there, and N'Jobu watched Califia and Axiel pace on the patio with a few of Lia's relatives. There were constant knocks on the front door, so one of Lia's big male cousins sat in a chair out front to keep reporters and other people away as the family tried to grieve for Lia and pray for Soliel's full recovery.

N'Jobu went to check on Erik and Marisol again and when he returned to the patio, Califia and Axiel were gone.

"Where is Califia?" he asked Andres.

Andres' hands were clasped together in his lap as he sat on the couch.

"They have gone out there," he said.

"What? Why?"

N'Jobu ran out of the home and flew down the stairs.

So many people.

"Califia!" he called out. He ran downhill trying to pick out her shape among the people. There were police posted up on corners and N'Jobu felt the thick tension pushing against his skin. He didn't like the way things felt. He heard a glass bottle break behind him and he kept his eyes darting about searching for her.

A group of young teenagers, both girls, and boys, taunted five officers stationed near a busy corner street. Heated words were exchanged and N'Jobu saw that the police were acting as if they wanted something to pop off. He moved past them quickly. Califia and the police were not a good mix.

A large group of protesters walked towards a wide intersection where a young Black woman was standing on a car and yelling at the crowd. She wore one of Lia's political t-shirts, and N'Jobu felt his spirit crashing. How was it possible that earlier that day he was speaking to Lia, wishing her well and looking forward to her visiting his family, and now she was dead, lying in a medical examiner's freezer with a bullet in her brain? He could only make out a few words of what the young speaker was saying, but she appeared to be riling them up. He heard the words "Justice" and "Black People" and Lia's name.

A federal police van drove up with the cops on speakers telling the crowd to disperse. More police vehicles were surrounding them. N'Jobu felt his gut tighten. He had to find his woman soon…

He caught sight of Axiel, the man's long locs tied up on his head. Axiel was yelling in agreement with the young woman on the car. He had his right hand stretched out and holding onto Califia's shoulder in front of him. She had her head down and N'Jobu swooped in to get her.

"Califia," he said reaching for her hand and pulling her away from Axiel.

Her eyes were red from crying again, but there was a hardness in them that startled him. For a second, she looked at him as if she didn't recognize him.

"Baby," he said trying to will her back to him.

The young woman speaker jumped down from the car and the crowd began following her and shouting Lia's name, ignoring the police who began to grab at people to stop them.

"We are going to the police station," Axiel said. Axiel looked at Califia as if to confirm her joining him.

N'Jobu felt the rush of bodies moving around them. The police were still yelling at people on the speakers.

"They can't get away with this," she finally said, the words sounding thick and heavy in her mouth.

"I know, but it's not safe out here. The police here are ready to go off. I don't think people will remain peaceful—"

"We shouldn't be peaceful!" Axiel yelled.

N'Jobu glared at him.

"They walk over us. They take one of own and they'll do it again and again unless we stop them!" Axiel's eyes were blazing.

Califia nodded in agreement.

N'Jobu held her shoulders and pulled her in close. She felt tense, coiled…ready to strike.

"Come back to the house with me. Erik is there and he needs you with him. I need you with me. This is a bad scene right now, baby. I know you want to fight. I know you want justice. We all do. But I need you to come back with me…please."

Her eyes swept over his face.

"Axiel, you should come back too," he said glancing over at him, trying to coax the man back to safety.

"The family needs you both there with them. Not out here."

N'Jobu saw Axiel's face go lax and then it contorted into intense pain. He ran from them and joined the sea of bodies.

"Axiel!" N'Jobu called out.

He was gone.

Califia wrapped her left arm around N'Jobu's. Clinging to him she allowed him to lead her back up the hill.

Lia's parents looked relieved to see Califia back in the fold. They made her call her father and grandmother, and soon after, her mother. Hearing their voices made her relax, especially her grandmother Nana Jean.

When N'Jobu learned that there would be no funeral right away, he made flight arrangements to get Erik and Califia out of the country. She didn't want to leave, but Aunjanue and Andres insisted. They would all be laying low until Lia's killers were found. No one felt safe. As soon as Soliel could be released from the hospital, she and her family would be sent away to stay with relatives outside of the city.

Lying in bed with her and Erik, he couldn't sleep. She couldn't either. He held her tight with Erik curled up between them. Erik had a fretful sleep, and N'Jobu worried that he would have nightmares about Soliel and Lia for a long time.

Watching Califia's face as she finally drifted off, N'Jobu wondered if she would've stayed out in the street if hadn't been there. Would she have left Erik and run out to risk her life if he hadn't been there and gone after her?

He believed she would have.

And that scared him.

The first thing N'Jobu did upon arriving back in the states with his family was to contact T'Chaka when he knew his brother would be busy. He made sure the signature showed him to be in Oakland, and he gave the concocted story of being at a wild drunken bachelor party out of state for a few days.

The second thing he did was contact the therapist that he and Califia used so many years ago to get through a rough patch. Dr. Davis. He wanted Erik and Califia to see her and deal with what happened in Brazil. Especially Erik.

The third thing he did was contact D'Beke and Sita. It was time to take a head count of War Dogs. Who was with him…and who was not.

And the fourth and final thing was to look up the infamous Ulysses Klaue.

Chapter 20 HERE.

#blackpanther #black panther #eriklives #erik killmonger #erik #erikkillmonger #erikstevens #erik stevens #wakanda #marvel #njobu #n'jobu #prince njobu #prince n'jobu #princenjobu #black panther fanfiction #blackpantherfanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 17

"There will never come a day You'd ever hear me say That I want and need to be without you I want to give my all Baby just hold me, simply control me 'Cause your arms, they keep away the lonelies When I look into your eyes Then I realize That all I need is you in my life All I need is you in my life…"

Brian McKnight – "Never Felt This Way"

The nightmares had returned.

They usually rose their ugly heads the weeks before N'Jobu had to return to Wakanda. They were earlier than they had ever been in two years. It was usually some variation of the same narrative.

Califia would find herself walking into a palatial estate dressed in a fancy dress or some luxurious flowing pants suit and top. She would find herself bejeweled from head to toe with gold bracelets jangling around her wrists and ankles. She had no idea what the palace in Wakanda really looked like outside of the modest photos N'Jobu had shown her, but the dark dreams would conjure up various scenarios each time, her subconscious probably piecing together things she may have seen in magazines or on tv over the years.

There would be the initial joy of finally being in her man's homeland, feeling a sense of belonging, harboring joy in her heart as she moved through large ornate double doors that lead to the voices she heard. The voices were always N'Jobu and Erik's…until she stepped into a wide- open room where an elaborate silver throne sat. N'Jobu was on that throne, his gold slugs gleaming on his teeth as he smiled. But his smile wasn't for her.

Zinzi sat next to him holding a baby. Standing next to her were three other children…and Erik. The three strange children-sometimes boys, sometimes girls, often both—shared features that let her know these were N'Jobu's progeny. His rich dark flawless melanin was in their skin.

N'Jobu would always look over at her and his eyes would look beyond her as if she weren't there at all and one of the children would call out, "Baba, Umama…" and N'Jobu would lean over and kiss Zinzi's cheek and touch the head of the child in her lap.

Zinzi would rise and hold out her hand and say, "Come, Husband," and all of them, including Erik, would walk away from the throne, walk right through her as if she were a ghost. And each time, Califia would run after them screaming, trying to stop N'Jobu, grabbing Erik's arm, but it always ended the same way. N'Jobu walking away from her with another family. The horror would swell in her belly and then she would wake up…

Noise.

From down below in the streets.

Califia forgot how loud it could be living in cramped spaces with people piled on top of each other. Her eyes opened to stare up at the ceiling. Every part of her ached. She asked to be made sore by him. She got her wish. Her thighs had black and blue marks. Her private parts ached from pleasurable use. Her nipples felt tender and raw. Her back shot out bolts of precise pain from where he twisted her to and fro.

Everything hurt, but damn, everything felt so right too.

She was happy to be awake. The nightmare faded in the light of the morning each time. The constant fear about N'Jobu going home to Wakanda for his annual check-in would never leave her. The noise took her from the discomfort that the dreams brought her.

Turning her head to the left of her she saw N'Jobu's profile. He was sound asleep with the covers draped over his waist. His bare chest called for her to touch it and she did, not waking him at all. She herself looked like a fire breathing dragon with drool sometimes when she slept, but this man next to her had the ability to look like he was posing in a magazine when he slumbered. So unfair.

She rolled onto her side so she could get her face close to his. She touched his plush full lips then traced her finger over his chin. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then lifted a little higher to press her lips into his. He slept soundly. She reached under the covers and felt for his dick. It was flaccid. It probably wouldn't work for a long time. She didn't know where he pulled his stamina nor the ability to recuperate from each time he ejaculated in her and on her, but N'Jobu really showed out this time. His appetite for her was ravenous and she reciprocated that hunger.

But now, he was finally sated and shut down.

Or so she thought.

"Hey," he whispered, his eyes still closed, but his lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Hey," she whispered back kissing his cheek again.

He turned his head to kiss her back.

"Are they back yet?" he asked.

"No. We are still alone."

"Maybe we should leave Erik with your Dad or Rolita every now and then when we get home. I want more time like this…like last night….early this morning…two hours ago…"

She laughed.

"We were really on one. Are you going to explain the door, or shall I do it?" she asked.

N'Jobu sighed heavily. His banging her against the bedroom door caused a noticeable crack in the middle of it.

"I'll tell Lia. And I'll replace the door."

Her hands were still rubbing him under the covers. She pushed the sheet and blankets down. His dick was plumping up. She stroked his emerald green seed jewel. The piercing was just as beautiful now as when he first showed it to her. He opened his eyes. She kissed his lips again then brought her face down to his cock and licked the jewel. Flicking her tongue around it, she felt his erection grow, his dick filling out and lifting up. She put her mouth over it.

"Damn, good morning to me," he said widening his legs for her.

Her mouth and jaws were the only things not too worn out.

"Ooh, yes, I like that, keep making that popping sound with your lips…"

She sucked on the head and each time she bobbed down on it and released it with her thick lips, a loud audible POP! was made. His dick was coated with hot saliva and she looked up at him and his lips quirked with pleasure. Eyes already heavy-lidded he thrust up into her mouth. Saliva dribbled down her jaw and neck. She sat up and gripped his cock and began stroking it up and down.

His eyes glanced down between her legs.

"You're still swollen down there. I'm sorry, girl."

"It's okay. I wanted it," she said. Her labia had swelled from when they were finished having sex, the irritated plumpness arose from his pummeling and biting and rubbing. It would take a few days to get back to normal. The look in his eyes told her he was ready to delve back in her.

His eyes traced every part of her and his erection reacted to what he saw, growing slicker at the tip and bulging in her hand.

Her eyes watched her hand work his dick. He moved his head closer to her and she gave him soft kisses. Her fingertip touched his slit and she played with the clear fluid he released and smoothed it around the head of his cock. Her grip returned just under the glans, her firm short strokes there made him stop kissing her, his breath agitated from the sensations of her stopping and starting. She was edging him just right. Staring at the fat shiny head of his glans she felt her body react to the perfect dark even coloring of his erection.

She slowed down her hand and just let her fingers make a ring under the head, twisting her digits slowly from left to right hitting his sweet spot. She saw his eyes sweep down to her pussy and more of his body's own lubricant spilled down and pooled on top of her thumb.

"Califia," he groaned, raising his eyes back to her face. He had that look. He was close to release. He reached out and fondled her breasts. She drew in a sharp intake of breath across her teeth when his fingers brushed over her sore nipples. The pleasure and pain she felt from his touch made him thrust his hips. He needed more from her hand and she gripped him tighter.

"Yes, like that," he gritted out watching her hand stroke him harder.

"Ah, man," she whined.

She could hear the children making their way up the steps from down below. Marisol's high-pitched squeal followed by Erik's high-strung cackles with Lia telling them both to slow down.

"Keep going," he grunted out squeezing her left breast.

She pumped her fist around him faster.

"Like that?"

"Yes…keep doing that…you know how to work me…you k'no—"

He blurted out something harsh in Wakandan and then his dick released a steady flow of cum that ran down his length and covered her hand.

"Shit!" he cried out.

When his cock was no longer sensitive, she reached for the hand towel they had used earlier.

"No, you clean me up with your mouth," he said pushing her head toward his lap.

"They'll be in here soon—"

"Lick all this up."

She did her best to slurp up all that dripped down his cock and thighs. When they heard the key in the front door twisting the lock, he wiped the rest of his release from his stomach with the towel and kissed her.

"I taste good in your mouth, girl," he whispered.

"You so nasty," she said licking her fingers of the excess semen still there.

The front door opened in the living room and the children's feet stampeded in followed by Lia's calm voice telling them to stop running in the house.

Califia stared at N'Jobu and rubbed his chest again.

"Next time we need a full twenty-four hours to ourselves—" she said.

A knock on the bedroom door let them know Erik wanted to see them. N'Jobu pulled the covers back over them and he pulled Califia onto his chest.

"Mom…Baba…it's me."

"Come in," she said.

Erik dipped his head in the doorway first then stepped in when he saw they were waiting for him.

"Why are you on the floor?" he asked.

"More comfortable down here," N'Jobu said squeezing Califia's shoulder under the covers.

"Auntie Lia wants to know if you want to have dinner at Luna's Grill or Catalina's…Baba, what's that on your teeth?"

Erik stepped closer to them and knelt down on the mattress. Califia ran her pinky finger on N'Jobu's gold slugs.

"Your father was just showing me his new grill," Califia said waiting for N'Jobu to come up with a good explanation as to why Erik had never seen them before.

"Cool," Erik said. He didn't ask his father to elaborate.

"Tell Lia we'll do Catalina's so we can dress up," she said.

"Okay," Erik said bouncing up from the mattress.

Califia could feel N'Jobu rubbing on her booty.

"What happened to the door?" Erik asked staring at the large crack in the middle.

Califia looked up at N'Jobu.

"Yeah, about that…" Califia said.

N'Jobu shook his head.

N'Jobu treated everyone to the Catalina restaurant feast.

His family, Lia's and Soliel's parents along with some community elders congregated on one side of the restaurant. It was a fancy establishment and everyone dressed up to celebrate the upcoming election.

Victory was in the air, and even though Lia thought it was presumptuous to celebrate before an actual win, everyone wanted to do it regardless of the final outcome later.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of Califia. Their lovemaking had him buzzing and once again he had tunnel vision, following her around like a lost puppy, constantly holding her hand or kissing her neck. She, in turn, stayed hugged up on him, her hand constantly rubbing his arm at the table or stroking the nape of his neck. She and Erik dressed alike, form-fitting black blazers with tight black trousers and black Doc Marten boots. Califia wore a low-cut black silk camisole top under her blazer while Erik sported a jet-black silk shirt he bought for himself at a boutique in the city.

N'Jobu wore an ivory and ecru suit that complimented the darker ensemble of his wife and son, and around their dinner table, the rest of their party was quite sophisticated with their apparel. The owner of the restaurant came over to meet Lia and wish her well while giving everyone dessert on the house.

Wine freely flowed, and N'Jobu felt his kimoyo beads heat up.

"Which way to the restroom?" he asked.

Califia pointed him toward the entrance of the restaurant.

Leaving the group, N'Jobu made his way as if going to the men's room, but went outside instead. He inserted an earbud in his hand and took out his cell phone to pretend he was using it. He tapped his kimoyo.

"Prince N'Jobu."

"D'Beke."

N'Jobu looked around his surroundings. No one was paying attention to him as he stood off to the side near the end of the sidewalk speaking Wakandan.

"I think I have found someone who can help us with our little project," D'Beke said.

"Who?"

"A South African."

"Really?"

"An Afrikaner."

N'Jobu sucked on his teeth.

"No, listen. This white man is a mercenary with a flawless reputation. Hard to contact, but I have my radar on him. He is in Dubai right now but may be willing to do some work for us. With your permission, of course, Your Highness. Sita knows him personally."

"Sita does?"

"Yes. Hold on…."

N'Jobu heard D'Beke speak to someone and then a new voice was in his ear.

"Your Highness."

"Sita," he said. His voice changed in tone when he heard the woman's voice.

"Tell me about this Afrikaner. Can he be trusted?"

"His name is Ulysses Klaue. A greedy maggot of a man. He is about as trustworthy as the dollar amount he is paid to do jobs. But he gets things done. And off the radar. He can be the perfect fall guy too if you want him to be."

"Let me think about it," N'Jobu said.

"Of course. I can set up a meeting in Canaan if you like."

"No, further away. Off continent. Someplace white. Northern."

"I will see what I can do, Your Highness."

"N'Jobu—"

He turned to see Califia watching him. He spoke quickly into the phone.

"I have to go. We shall speak again soon. Tell D'Beke to start preliminary inquiries. Feel out who is with me. And Sita…do this with great discretion. I can not stress this enough."

"Will do, Your Highness. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Sita."

He pretended to tap his phone and took out his earbud.

"Everything okay back home?" she asked.

Her eyes were inquisitive. She heard him speaking Wakandan. He didn't know why he felt nervous. She didn't know his language, but her voice sounded suspicious like she was aware of something. He put his phone away and reached for her hand.

"Everything is fine—"

"Who were you talking to?"

"Some military colleagues. Just going over some things before I return."

Damn. There was that look in her eyes. The worry she always had when it came close to his annual check-in. He pulled her in and held her waist.

"Nothing to worry about. Is everyone still enjoying dessert?"

"Yeah."

He kissed her forehead.

"Let's go back in," he said.

They found Erik stuffing a large spoonful of chocolate mousse into his mouth. Marisol was busy pushing vanilla parfait into hers.

N'Jobu held up a glass of wine in honor of Lia.

"Salud," he said.

All the adults joined him. When he looked into Califia's eyes, she looked worried about something. But she smiled at him and held up her glass of white wine toward Lia.

When the evening was over and they were all back at Lia's ready for bed, Califia sat at the dresser mirror in the guest bedroom and twisted her hair. The children were asleep and Lia was on her couch with her boyfriend watching a late-night movie. She herself could not sleep and decided to busy herself with her hair.

N'Jobu was on the mattress down on the floor reading a book.

She heard his voice when he was talking on his phone outside the restaurant. The way his tone sounded she knew he was talking to a woman. It was something his voice did all the time and she wondered if it was what they did in his native language, or if N'Jobu just naturally sounded seductive when he spoke to any woman. He never sounded that way with men.

She worried about having the nightmare again when she fell asleep. She never told N'Jobu about it because she was afraid it might be true. His American life could be an elaborate charade, and he would go be with Zinzi and their children. Califia was just his side-chick that he gave a baby to just to keep her happy and complacent so he could use her for his spy work.

She didn't know why she couldn't ignore the dreams as the stuff feeding on her anxiety about his leaving again. But he was giving her vibes that something was off, especially back in his homeland. And to hear him talking to a woman that could be Zinzi just ate at her. He could be going home and putting on a wedding band and stepping into a home where Zinzi and their children would spend a whole month playing family. Maybe, just maybe, the times he told her not to come to his apartment, what if he were meeting his other family in secret from her?

She shook her head at the thoughts. They made her seem so ridiculous. He loved her. He wouldn't lie to her about having someone else. True, he lied about his heritage, but she understood why he did that. But she had heard horror stories from close friends about women marrying foreign men and their husbands having whole ass families in other parts of the world like it wasn't anything. Years of women thinking they were the only one only to find out a man had a whole different life for decades.

He received strange calls at odd hours of the night at their townhouse. Calls he had to take in private speaking his mother tongue in hushed tones. He was supposed to be a spy for his country. What if his double life was a triple life? She knew she couldn't handle something like that. And she cursed herself for coming up with the hurtful thoughts, driving herself into states of panic, driving herself to make him prove he loved her by teasing him. Pushing buttons in him that she knew he would react to. The whole time they went out dancing the other night was just her insecurity acting out. How bad did he want her? Did he still love her passionately? Was she still his everything in bed like he told her? He wanted more children. Could he have another woman back home giving him the babies he so desperately wanted? Legitimate royal offspring that his parents were fawning over? How hard could it be when he already had a secret child in the States?

The dream she had that morning was truly the worst even though most of the fear wore off once she woke up. In that scenario, not only did N'Jobu have his other family, but he took Erik with him and left her behind.

Her eyes glanced at him from the mirror. He was into his book. A history of salt. He had finished another book on the history of wine and beer two days ago. He looked comfortable. Content. Clothes off, no plans for the next day except attending a final political rally to drum up last-minute support for Lia near a mall after a late lunch. And here she was sitting in front of a mirror thinking he was doing the most horrible thing she could think of. Being with someone else. Although he had said it in the heat of their lovemaking, she could still feel the tension in her gut when he had told her there was pussy out in the street just lined up and waiting for him. Not just the streets in Sao Paulo, but everywhere.

He caught her staring at him.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said watching her reflection.

She tied her hair up with a black silk scarf and turned to face him.

"Just thinking about the election."

It didn't look like he believed her. He held out his hand for her. She stood up and went to him, kneeling down on the mattress and letting him pull her close to him.

"Something else is on your mind. I see it in your eyes. You know you can't hide things from me when your eyes reveal so much. My love, what is it?"

She hated being insecure. It was hard not to be when she had a man like him.

"What is it?"

He stroked her arm. Then lifted up her chin.

"Tell me," he whispered.

His eyes were so loving. Sincere.

"I have these bad dreams…I have them more now and they get really bad when you go back to Wakanda. I trust you…but…"

"But what?"

She couldn't answer. She felt ashamed for doubting him, but she couldn't help feeling what she felt.

"I have dreams that you go home to a second family."

She closed her eyes and pressed her head into his chest. It sounded even worse saying it out loud. N'Jobu pushed her back gently and shifted his body so that he was leaning above her.

"You dream this or do you believe this?"

His voice sounded coarse, like he couldn't fathom what just came out her mouth. She couldn't answer him. Shame swallowed her throat.

His face broke into an incredulous expression.

"Califia. You think I have another family?"

There was pain in his voice. She looked up at him.

"How long have you been thinking this?"

Don't lie to him.

"The past two years—"

He sat up abruptly.

"Two years?!"

She lifted up and her shoulder touched his, her off-the-shoulder t-shirt hanging low on her arms.

"What have I possibly done to make you believe that?"

"The secrets. The pretending. I don't know what you do when you are over there. I don't know what you do when you are in your apartment by yourself. More and more these days you are away from us alone. I tell myself that you have to do it to stay here with us, but sometimes…sometimes N'Jobu I get scared. And it manifests in my dreams."

"I don't have another family in Wakanda. Or anywhere else. I don't have any other children. I just have you and Erik. That's all. I just don't understand why you would hold onto this for two years. You can talk to me about anything."

He stroked her face then pulled her in for a hug.

"Shit, girl. Don't ever hold onto something like that. Talk to me. I love you. I want you."

"Okay," she whispered.

"I damn near fucked you through a whole door last night. That didn't tell you anything?"

She smiled.

"I know you worry. I know you get anxious when I am gone. It's the life I have given us. I take the blame for that. There is so much about my culture that you could never fully understand. It is so rigid, and so hard for me. I do the best that I can so I can make a life with you and Erik—"

"You don't have to explain—"

"No, I do. Because it is affecting you so much. Giving you nightmares. Stressing you out. I don't have any power right now to change things at this time in my life. But I promise you. One day we won't have to hide—

"N'Jobu—"

"Listen to me. I want you to feel secure and safe, and I am sorry that I have disappointed you by not making you feel that way."

She flung her arms around his neck.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore…just hold me…"

She felt his body shake a bit as he pulled her in tighter against him.

"There's only you, girl. I swear…"

She nodded and let him pull the covers back so she could scramble under them to get next to his warmth. He held her safe and secure until she fell asleep.

Noise again.

She woke up to a cool empty mattress on his side of the bed.

His shadow was outside on the patio deck. He was on his cell phone again. She heard the soft tones drip from his lips. A woman on the other end once more.

Knotting in her stomach made her feel a fit of dull anger seep into her chest. He said his military work caused the calls. She wanted to believe him. But he could talk in his language next to her in bed and she wouldn't know any details. He didn't have to go outside. It made him look sneaky. Like he was conducting an affair.

Girl, stop. Get it together.

She curled herself up into a ball and faced away from the window.

He stepped back into their space and packed his cell away in his suitcase. Crawling back onto the mattress and under the covers, he spooned around her and a hand reached for her breast. She didn't like the touch but endured it. He held the weight of her in his hand and pressed closer into her. He seemed to ignore her body language, probably still thinking she was asleep. When he angled his groin closer to her backside, she pushed away from him. She felt his body shift, unsure of what to do. He placed his arm around her waist and she went stiff when he touched her. He lifted up and she felt the covers pull back from her arms.

"Califia."

She ignored him.

"Don't close me out, girl."

She pulled the covers back over her shoulders.

"I just want to go to sleep."

"I can't touch you now?"

"It's hot."

"No, it's not."

She tucked her head low.

"What is it now?" he asked.

"Nothing. Do you need to make any more phone calls? I can go sleep with the kids. Give you privacy in here."

She heard him suck on his teeth. She sucked hers back.

"Don't act like a child," he said.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me—?"

She turned around to face him.

"You're talking to a woman. Both times you have been talking to a woman on your phone—"

"We have women soldiers in our military. You do remember my personal bodyguards, right? All women—"

"—you didn't have to make or take calls right now—"

"—I'm in a different time zone. If I don't take the calls my people will think something is wrong—"

"Why does your voice have to sound like that when you talk to women?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice below a whisper.

"Sound like what?"

"Like you're trying to fuck them through the phone?"

"What?"

"Ughh!" she said throwing the covers back over her head. She sounded stupid. She knew it. Now she was embarrassed. It was so juvenile.

His hand rubbed her shoulder.

"Hey…"

She wanted to sink through the floor.

"So…you're not going to share the covers?"

His fingers pulled on the blankets and sheet, dragging them away from her face. She kept her eyes closed.

"I have no idea what you mean about my voice talking over the phone to women. I just talk—"

"You can't hear yourself, so you wouldn't know—"

"I can definitely hear myself, girl—"

"It's the tone…you sound suggestive…the pitch and timbre change…like you're trying to have phone sex."

"You don't think I talk that way to you on the phone?"

"Not all the time…sometimes…"

He shook his head.

"If I really want to seduce someone with my voice, I know I could, and I have done so…but I promise you, I'm just speaking to a colleague and fellow soldier…what are we really talking about right now? I'm so confused. What are you upset about? I took the call outside so I wouldn't disturb your sleep. I don't know what else to say to calm your fears."

"Let's just go to sleep and forget about it," she said turning her back and pulling the covers back up.

N'Jobu curled up behind her and held her waist again. She accepted it this time. He pressed his lips to her ear.

"You want me to talk sexy to you?"

She felt her ears get warm from his soft breath.

"Should I tell you how fine you looked in that blazer, hmmm?"

He flicked his tongue in her ear and then he let his lips snag her earlobe and toy with it. She felt a low whimper escape her lips. He reached for her breast again and gave soft swirls around her areola with his finger. The teasing circles didn't touch her nipple at all. She found herself pressing her rump into his groin.

"You are the only one I want. You believe me?"

He was doing it. That thing. That subtle change in his voice. He nibbled her lobe again and let his index finger skim over the top of her nipple once.

"Tell me you believe me, girl."

She felt her stomach drop.

"Tell me…"

She didn't say anything.

"Let me eat your pussy. Let me show you how I feel about you…"

"Okay," she said feeling a shudder escape with the word.

His fingers drifted down to her shorts and slid them off of her. Pushing back the covers he pulled on her legs and she automatically bent her knees for him. His mouth found her stomach and kissed each of her tattoos before traveling down to the opening of her thighs.

His tongue swiped her puffy inner lips, the tip of it tracing the delicate folds, parting them so that he could get at her center. His soft lips were deliberate in their work and very responsible for the mewling noises she was letting out. But good God, his tongue…

She gazed down at his face and his eyes were on hers.

She lifted up his pillow and pressed it against her mouth so she could scream into the cotton fluff when he finally licked her clit directly.

By the time he was finished with her, she was willing to believe anything he said.

That worried her the most.

Lia's supporters were feeling the momentum of her campaign coming to a close. The final rally they all attended was a rousing success, and Lia gave a powerful speech that encouraged the crowd to keep fighting for their rights even if she lost the election the next day. Many people booed when she mentioned the possibility of losing again.

N'Jobu and Califia stood among the crowd of supporters as they watched Lia on a portable stage. Erik and Marisol stood next to her.

N'Jobu adjusted his sunglasses and watched his son stare down at the crowd as Lia spoke. So many people were there, and Erik's eyes surveyed all the reactions. He was dressed in pressed jeans and a yellow cotton t-shirt with Lia's face on it. It was his favorite shirt to wear the entire time there. Lia was speaking into a bullhorn in the photo and her fist was in the air along with a crowd of Black women behind her holding their fists up too. It was an iconic looking image. Lia's hair on the shirt was free-flowing, thick curls framing her face making her eyes look dynamic and full of purpose.

Califia wore the same shirt while N'Jobu sported several campaign buttons on his plain black t-shirt.

Lia continued speaking and N'Jobu glanced over at Califia who was hanging on to every word spoken.

His woman could be so strong in so many ways, but when it came to him, she became almost fragile with her fears. His mind had been blown by the confession that she thought he had another family back home. She tried to say her nightmares about it was the cause of her worries, but he saw through that. For two years he had gotten on a plane to Wakanda, and she had sat in Oakland believing he was with another woman and fathering other children behind her back. Unbelievable. True, he could easily do it if he wanted to. But why would she really feel that he could do that to her? They had been through so much together. He had given her his heart and his allegiance, forsaken his parents and brother to be there with her, and yet she still entertained the notion that he could be foul like that. And her irrational belief that his talking on the phone a certain way meant he was having an affair. She wasn't handling his War Dog life well at all. He had to admit that. He was so busy trying to keep everything together balancing work, spying, and staying incognito in the open, that he had ignored the impact on his family.

Erik just knew that Baba worked a lot, kept an apartment, and traveled sometimes overnight. Once a year Baba left town for a month to teach at a barber college. That was the story and he and Califia stuck to it. It was such a normal routine since his birth that Erik never questioned it. The apartment was rent controlled and so many people sublet and had complicated living situations around town. His friend James stayed at the apartment many times when he was thrown out by his girlfriend when they fought, and Erik assumed N'Jobu kept the place for wayward friends and relatives.

"Look at him, lording over the crowd," Califia said bumping her arm into his.

N'Jobu looked back over at Erik who was still watching Lia's audience. Marisol was looking bored next to him, whispering in his ear. Erik ignored her, his eyes gazing back up at Lia. He listened to her words and N'Jobu wondered what his boy was thinking. He was constantly surrounded by politics, culture, activism, and art. How was this shaping his outlook on life?

Lia's speech ended and her fist was in the air. Erik raised his fist and he joined in with the crowd as they chanted with Lia.

"What are they saying?"

"Power to the people," Califia said.

There were reporters flocking to the side of the stage.

"I'll get Erik and we can meet over by the car, yeah?" Califia said. N'Jobu nodded and ducked through the crowd avoiding the press and camera people.

Tonight would be their night together as a family. Just the three of them. N'Jobu made reservations under Califia's name at a fancy hotel in the city, the Hotel Cadoro.

Aunjanue loaned them her car and N'Jobu waited for them with the motor running.

When Erik arrived with Califia his face looked sour. He climbed in the back seat and buckled himself up.

"Why the long face?" N'Jobu asked.

"Marisol was crying," Erik said.

"Why?"

"She thought we were going home to Oakland. She hugged me and got stains on my shirt. She was eating a candy bar…I wanted to wear this for the election tomorrow—"

"We can get it cleaned at the hotel, JaJa," Califia said.

"She's so emotional," Erik said.

"She's just going to miss you a lot when you leave, Baby," Califia said.

"But she knows we aren't going until Sunday. A whole week—"

"Hey. She only gets to see you every other year. She can express how she feels," N'Jobu said glancing back at Erik from the rearview mirror.

Erik stared out the window, his lip poked out.

"Fix your face, boy," Califia said.

Their hotel room was on the twenty-first floor, the top, and Erik's face definitely fixed up when he saw the view from the window.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed running up to the window and peering out. The lights in the center of the city were shimmering like polished silver and white jewel stones. Erik's reaction softened N'Jobu's heart. What would his son's reaction be if he could see the view of Birnin Zana from the palace?

"Mom, look!"

"Pretty," Califia said standing next to him. She pulled the curtains open wider.

"Can we stay in and eat?" Erik asked.

"You don't want to go out?" she asked.

"No."

"What would you like to do tonight?" N'Jobu asked placing their overnight bag in the closet.

"Eat hamburgers and watch tv."

Califia giggled.

"Oh, I see. The tv show Xica The Queen comes on tonight…"

Erik's face turned sheepish, and his dimples popped out.

"I knew you liked it a lot. You like the actress who plays Xica," she teased.

"She looks like Auntie Lia."

"Yeah, she kinda does."

Califia looked at N'Jobu.

"Burgers and Xica tonight."

"I'll call room service," N'Jobu said.

They laid up in the king-sized bed together eating burgers and fries with cheesecake for dessert. N'Jobu had to agree that the lead actress in the show did favor Lia, just older. It was a historical drama with some fantasy elements, and Erik was enthralled. Califia was into it too, and every now and then during commercial breaks, the two of them would discuss the previous segment and try to guess what would happen next.

Califia was leaned up against his arm and Erik was sprawled out on her lap. N'Jobu couldn't figure out the appeal of the show. It looked rather low budget and all over the place plot-wise. He nodded off toward the end, the burgers and red wine he drank taking their toll. Erik had shifted his position and was now between N'Jobu and Califia, his head now resting on N'Jobu's chest.

Their hotel room had an additional junior bedroom suite for Erik, but the way his boy was cozied up on him, N'Jobu might not get the chance to try out the king-size bed with Califia alone.

"Why is your bracelet getting warm, Baba?"

The kimoyo beads were pressed against Erik's arm.

N'Jobu moved his wrist and discreetly pressed one of the beads. The signature was from T'Chaka. Shit. He didn't have his scrambler with him, so if he answered the call, his locater would show his brother that he was not in Oakland. Questions would be asked that didn't need asking. He had a least twenty-four hours to ignore the call before his brother would try again. And if he didn't answer by then…trouble. Another War Dog would come searching for him in Oakland. And if he weren't there…

"It gets sensitive to body heat. It is warm in here. And you are all over me."

Erik tried to touch the beads again, but N'Jobu shifted his body reaching for the remote. "What else is on?" N'Jobu asked.

He flipped through the onscreen guide. Erik was staring at his beads.

"I want to watch the news," Califia said.

"Boring," Erik said.

"Well go in your room and watch what you want to watch," Califia said.

N'Jobu turned on the news, Erik's face looked deflated.

"Go on, and don't stay up too late. We are meeting Auntie Lia and everyone for breakfast and then we go to the polls," she said.

"What about my shirt?"

"Lia is bringing you a new one in the morning," she said.

Erik kissed Califia on the cheek and swung his face back around and kissed N'Jobu's cheek. He bounced off their bed and meandered over to his room.

Picking up his cell, N'Jobu saw that there was a missed call from T'Chaka. The fake code name they used popped up at the same time his beads warmed up. He showed the phone to Califia. She sat up on the bed.

"I'll have to leave soon—"

"Why? Please, not on election day—"

"I have a little over twenty-four hours to reply. I must be in Oakland when I do—"

"Just text him back—"

"Califia…I can't. I'll stay for the election, but I have to find a flight out tomorrow night or early the next morning. If I don't, it will cause me problems with my brother."

"Okay," she said, her voice gone small.

"I wasn't expecting a call from him. I have no idea what he wants."

"Just tell him you are tracking someone—"

"We have War Dogs here. They would handle it."

"Then tell him you are on a vacation-"

"I would have to notify them of any movement outside of the U.S. prior to going."

"Then you should've told him you were coming here weeks ago!"

She held her hand to her face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell like that. We'll deal with it," she said picking up her phone off of the nightstand.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to find you a flight out of here."

He took her phone from her hand and placed it next to his on the other nightstand.

"I'll do that later," he said.

"I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Don't worry about that. We will support Lia tomorrow. She will win the election. I'll fly home and be there for you and Erik when you return."

"We'll leave with you—"

"No, be here for your friend. Support your family."

She nodded. They watched the news of pre-election coverage, saw clips of interviews with Lia and her opponents. It would be a tight race, but pundits were confident of Lia's potential victory.

N'Jobu left their room to go check on Erik when it got late.

His son was sound asleep with the TV running infomercials. His body was twisted up in his bed covers. N'Jobu turned off the tv and tucked the bed covers around Erik's shoulders. He padded back across to Califia and she was snuggled under the blankets.

N'Jobu turned the TV volume up a bit and crawled in next to her. He bent down to kiss her and her eyes were bright.

"We'll be fine, alright?" he said.

He kissed her thinking a light peck was all she wanted, and he considered turning the TV off if she just wanted to sleep, but her lips held his seeking more. Chaste smooches turned into deeper and wetter kisses. She seemed desperate for affection. He slowed down her lips by breaking away from her and kissing her neck. She helped him pull off her top and bra, and by the time he had his pants and shirt off, she was naked under him. He kissed her breasts and licked her belly button while she rubbed circles on his scalp. She pulled him back up so she could kiss him again, and he drank from her lips.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he rested his growing erection on her mound but kept kissing her. He wanted her to lead. He wanted her to be in control of what happened between them at this moment. He was worried about the call from his brother. He didn't want to show his own fear. His mind tried to come up with various scenarios as to what T'Chaka wanted. He spoke to his parents prior to going to Brazil, but he and T'Chaka still had a chilly relationship at times. There was pressure at home for T'Chaka to re-marry along with the political problems from within their own class. Zinzi tried to keep N'Jobu abreast of the issues from home, but his main concern was his influence over several War Dogs throughout the globe. Was his brother aware of the allegiance some were giving N'Jobu?

He was still feeling out ideas on what he wanted to do, still weighing the pros and cons of how to change the direction of thinking in Wakanda. He just knew that he couldn't sit back and let the world roll over Black people who were struggling. His son was in this world. His woman was in this world. He needed to figure out a way to make changes and force his brother to accept these changes. It was unacceptable for him to see the outside world function the way it did when all it would take was for Wakanda to step in and act. Take over. America was a poor excuse for a superpower and world leader. Wakanda needed to take that role. He had to change minds. And the first ones were other War Dogs who saw what he saw and agreed with him.

But what if T'Chaka knew about his secret meetings and talks?

He held Califia tight and let her have his tongue, mouth, and lips.

"I need you," he panted into her ear when he was desperate to escape his thoughts that intruded on her comforting him. He was losing himself in her lips. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck and he looked down at his dick. They were both sticky from the excitement of kissing. He rubbed himself against her folds. He could feel the tickling of her clit ring grazing the underside of his thickness and hear the wetness oozing between them as they moved.

He let his tip tease the entrance of her. Gazing at her face he saw that her lips were pursed and that lusty haze in her eyes had returned. He adored that look on her. It let him know her pussy was ready. He continued the gentle rubbing, his tip spilling a thick stream of pre-cum all over her ring making her more slippery. The fat lips of her outer labia cradled his dick and he could see that her clit was swollen enough now that the hood was pulling back. Her whimpers intensified but the TV was helping drown out her noise.

He was ready to lay pipe on her.

Sliding the weight of his dick in her folds, her clit ring hit a spot on his frenulum that made him moan loud enough over the sound of the tv.

"Fuck me," she panted.

He wanted to ram himself deep in her, but he wanted to stretch this exquisite sensation even longer.

"Look at this fat pussy," he said staring down at her center.

"Jobu…"

He closed his eyes for a second and then kept watching her clit.

"You know how to take care of Daddy—"

"Baby…please…fuck me…"

He groaned again. Her voice trembled now, the core of her begging revving up the nerve endings in his skin. This was his shit right here, the sound of his woman on the verge of cumming, begging for his dick. He shifted his weight so he could press his erection against her a little harder. She was still a little tender down there, but it was too late to turn back.

"Huhnhhhh…"

She was trying to keep quiet. It didn't matter now. Erik would either sleep through this, or he would get an earful. Fortunately, the boy was a hard sleeper.

"You like this big dick on you?"

"…fuck me…"

"You want me to punish this pussy again…is that what you want?"

She tried lifting up but he held her arms down at her sides.

"Tell Daddy what you want…"

She twisted her hips and her clit ring rubbed him at a different angle.

"Oh…you bitch…," he stammered.

She twisted again and he moved slower and harder. Her clit was twitching now. It was difficult for him to focus, his balls felt weighted down and his tip was spilling more pre-cum.

"Please," she yelped and he felt a shuddering ride up his back.

"You want this…"

"…bay-bee…I can't…"

"Tell me what you want…"

"Aiyyy! Baby!"

"Yes?"

"…fuck…fuck…oh…shit…fuck my pussy…"

He couldn't hold back and plunged in, shocking her senses and knocking a moan out of her.

He kept his thrusts slow so she would keep begging him for more.

"I'm in this pussy now, girl. See how deep I'm going…mmmhmmmm, I know you feel all of this. That's it, give me what I want."

Slow. Deep.

He was losing himself once more inside of her.

He interlaced his fingers with hers on both hands and kept penetrating her depths. The thick mattress and solid frame didn't make noise, so he was able to move his hips any way he liked without worrying about waking their son. He really began to put his back into it.

Peppering her neck and shoulder with kisses he clung to Califia. Her thighs squeezed his waist and he sank deeper into her.

"Califia," he gasped.

He released her hands and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"I got you," she whispered in his ear.

His hands reached under her and gripped her ass cheeks. Pumping to save his life he didn't stifle his groans.

"You know how to take care of me so well. Just you…just you…Baby, I love you so much…"

He spilled into her, his primal yelled absorbed by the sheets that his face was pressed into. A heavy load of semen left his body and he didn't want to let her go.

Heart hammering and legs weakened, N'Jobu pulled out of her. His dick still seeped cum from the tip when he was out of her and he stroked himself to release the rest watching it drip down onto her clit ring.

Califia slipped her fingers around her swollen nub and rubbed herself, her eyes on his still erect dick as a long string of cum dangled from it. He stuck two fingers inside of her pussy feeling the aftermath of his ejaculation, and Califia sucked in a breath. He watched her orgasm give her release and he groaned when her pussy tightened on his digits. He held still until she had finished shaking and her body relaxed.

"This will be a long night," he said releasing his fingers and getting off the bed.

She smiled at him and stretched.

"Be right back," he said and headed for the bathroom.

Califia rolled on her side and felt a deep smile widen her mouth.

Their sex in Brazil had been out this world and she wanted more. The disappointment she felt because he had to leave them before their trip had ended subsided. He was remorseful and apologetic. Just now he fucked her like he missed her already, and she felt that she could cope with the change in their travel plans.

His cell phone lit up on the nightstand.

She watched it for a moment and then slid her hand over to pick it up. When she tried to swipe it to check the call, she found that he had locked his phone.

He had never locked his phone before.

She heard him washing his hands and she put his cell back where he had it.

He found her in the same position he had left her in when he returned to their bed.

"Me next," she said jumping up and running to the bathroom.

She peed first then washed her hands and face. Staring at herself in the mirror, she tried to fix the tears that were trying to fall out of her eyes. She wiped her face with cool water on a hand towel, and when she returned to N'Jobu, he was lying on his back.

"Come sit on my face baby," he told her.

So many mixed feelings passed through her. She wanted to ask why his phone was locked. His hands were beckoning her to come to him and she did. She couldn't help it. He made her body feel too damn good. And right now she just wanted to feel loved.

She crawled over his face and sat on his tongue. Looking behind her as he ate her out, she saw his hand stroke his dick.

"Make this pussy feel good, Daddy," she said lifting up a bit so his tongue could lick her from front to back.

"You taste so good, girl," he said, his breath hot on her clit giving her shivers as his voice vibrated on her folds.

His cell lit up again when she was cumming in his mouth. Someone really wanted him.

"Fuck me again," she told him while wiping a tear from her eye.

Chapter 18 HERE.

#njobu #n'jobu #blackpanther #black panther #erik killmonger #erik #erikkillmonger #killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #wakanda

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 20

"When my love comes down, I don't have to run around

I've got you and you know just what to do

to fulfill all my needs and satisfy me

But I'd like to know if the sexual healing is mutual,

do you feel what I'm feeling?

Do I please you? Do I fill the need? I know I might sound bold,

but I'd just like to know

Is it good to you? I want to know

Is it good to you? Oooh, I got to know, yeah

Is it good to you? C'mon and tell me, boy, yeah

Is it good to you?"

Tammy Lucas – "Is it Good to You?"

Damn near shit-faced.

That's how N'Jobu felt sitting around the V.I.P. table with his friends. Drinks flowed, the music was out of control, and it felt so good to curse with Birnin Zana slang without having to check himself. He had known these guys since he was six years old. They were loyal, discreet, and fucking funny as hell.

Once N'Jobu caught up with the current happenings in and around Birnin Zana, and who was screwing who on the down low and in public, the conversation took a turn when he discovered that it was Jax going through the pregnancy scandal with the newly divorced socialite and River Tribe noblewoman.

Tossing back more plum liquor shots, N'Jobu heard the sordid tale straight from the jackass's mouth.

"Like, damn, Jax. Why the hell didn't you use protection? Ngqundu wako!" N'Jobu scolded.

"I'm an ass? Masende kayihlo!" Jax cursed back grabbing at his balls to insult N'Jobu.

"Eh, my father's balls? Nyo kanyoko!" N'Jobu shot back using his fingers to tap his tongue as a counter insult towards Jax's mother's private parts.

The other guys laughed and balled their fists up to their mouths at the bickering of two best friends.

"She said she had it covered. What can I say? I was doing it and thinking she would handle all of that. She's a noble. Those women should know better. Plus, she just got divorced. Ikaka, it might be her ex-husband's," Jax said.

"She keeping it?" N'Jobu asked.

"She can't."

"What if she does? What are you going to do?"

Jax sipped on a bottle of beer.

"She's not having it. I'll make sure she doesn't."

"She can get a DNA test you know," N'Jobu said.

"Not my problem. Plus, I hear her ex wants her back."

"Man, still…wouldn't you want to know if the child is yours? I mean if she keeps it, and it's yours, won't your families want legitimacy?"

"Ohhh, noooo, don't try to put that marriage yoke around my neck. You're the guy that has to get tied down for King and country! Filial obedience!" Jax hollered, slapping N'Jobu on his back.

N'Jobu only stared at Jax in disbelief.

"How many of your choices came to that dinner tonight?" Jax asked.

"We are talking about you, not me."

"Let's stop talking about him. I don't think she's pregnant anyway. I saw pictures of her drinking here last week for a birthday party. Pregnant women don't drink," said Odwa, His twin brother Paki was nodding his head.

"I saw those pictures too. She's playing you Jax," Paki said.

A popular song blasted the conversation and Jax jumped up shaking his hips, his thin twisted locs bouncing around his head.

"This is our cue, gentlemen. Our Prince has returned from fucking American women…don't roll your eyes at me N'Jobu, we know you! Odwa, look at his face, he's sitting here trying to act like he's been a good schoolboy in America."

"I know your comm tab has been blowing up since you got home. Who has been calling you to split them open before you go back, eh?" Paki said.

"Let's go dance, this is the song!" Their friend Chisulo said, dropping his body low and twisting his feet to the massive bass rumbling throughout the club.

Sekani, N'Jobu's third cousin on his mother's side took a long drag from a bottle of peach vodka. He wiped his mouth after drinking and stared at N'Jobu, his bald head shiny under the club lights. "Cousin, let's go," he said.

N'Jobu stood up and followed them as they walked past several elite sections. As N'Jobu sauntered through, he felt eager eyes on him and saw people giving head nods out of respect for his presence. Before they reached the stairs, he had to stop and use the restroom.

"I'll meet you guys down there," he said.

His Dora Milaje were discreet, but still watching his movements closely.

After relieving himself in the restroom, N'Jobu circled around towards the stairs.

"Prince N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu's head snapped to his right and he saw Zinzi and a group of women sitting in their own section. He recognized several of the women, their parents had eaten with him at the palace earlier.

Zinzi wore white skin-tight pants and a white leather corset top that showed off her ample bosom. N'Jobu didn't feel any shame when he let his eyes dip low to check out her breasts. She wasn't shy about showing them off. Oba Oba's was the place to see and be seen. She caught his reckless eye-balling and smiled.

"Zinzi," he said, stepping to her. He reached for her hand and kissed it. The women with her watched him with fierce sparkling eyes.

"Hello Ladies, you all look amazing," he said, acknowledging them. The one sitting closest to him, a pretty woman with dimples and a baby afro who he didn't recognize, kept biting her lip as she gazed at him.

"How come you didn't come over to my section?" he asked, placing his hand over his heart and pretending to look offended.

"You looked like you were in deep conversation with your friends. I didn't want to disturb your reunion."

"You disturb me? Never! Come, dance with me," he said, clasping her hand in his. He felt her fingers squeeze his a little. Her friends looked gobsmacked by how familiar he was acting with Zinzi, his informal Wakandan inflections scandalous to their ears. She did ask him to be seen with her so that the gossip could get back to her lover.

"Sure, your Highness," she said.

"Ladies, excuse us please," he said.

He led Zinzi down the stairs and through a boisterous crowd of dancers. They both could feel more covetous eyes on them. Zinzi's fingers felt warm and smooth interlaced with his, quite comfortable in fact.

He could see his boys throwing down already with women who were serving them hips and dips. The music was funky and not for the rhythmically challenged.

N'Jobu wasted no time grabbing Zinzi's waist. She was already tossing her ass back at him in that slow teasing way that women from this part of town were famous for doing. One leg up and bent, then the other lifted, bent at the knee, tiny steps alternating left to right, hip twisting, ass cheeks jiggled in precise isolations. River tribe women were known for those type of moves, but a dance craze that caught on a year ago filtered over into Birnin Zana from that region. Now everyone was doing it.

N'Jobu had to create an artificial barrier between him and Zinzi. Yes, he was connected to a woman in the States, and yes, he was committed to being faithful to her, but he was also a man who had a body that reacted to fine women. And Zinzi was fine as Ethiopian honey wine. When her ass got too close to his groin, he made sure not to press into her.

She turned around and raised her hands in the air, and that was a problem because now he could not stop looking at her chest and the way her breasts bounced to the music. He quickly forced himself to keep dancing but focused his eyes elsewhere as if he were taking in all the sights and sounds of the club.

A popular song called "Zana Highlife" came on, and N'Jobu really cut loose with Zinzi. She was fun to dance with and actually kept up with him.

"You're good, Prince N'Jobu!" she said, moving around him.

He smiled at her as he worked his shoulders in time with his hips.

"Okay your Highness, I see you!" she called out, trying to match his moves.

They partied to five songs and then N'Jobu took her hand and walked her over to a bar and ordered drinks for them. All the drinks were on the house for him. He asked for two house wines, and when they arrived, he took them and had Zinzi follow him to an open table in a booth. The other tables near them were empty because people were on the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yejide and Ometeko positioning themselves near him. No one would bother them at the table or in this section.

Sipping their white wine, N'Jobu kept eyeing Zinzi. She might actually be the one for his family's legacy. They got along so far as adults. He had known her when they were kids, but that was a long time ago. She was a woman now. An amazing one.

They did a little small talk about her current work organizing counseling for mental health and advocating for geriatric outreach. They spoke of his education and the excitement of the new royal baby. He showed her pictures of his friends in California on his comm tab. Always group shot photos, and usually he was in the back of the pictures trying to be obscure. He made sure not to show her any photos that he had of Califia and him together. Those were his private stash, mostly selfies of them kissing.

Califia seemed to adore photos of them tonguing each other down. Kissing between them was almost as good as intercourse. It had turned into a necessary extended act of foreplay that he enjoyed very much, especially when paired with his licking her all over from her front to her back. They once had an intense kissing session on her grandmother's couch when everyone had gone to bed. Califia had worked him up so bad that when they stopped twisting their lips and tongues together after forty minutes, he had soaked a section of his pants with pre-cum and he thought he had ejaculated because the stain was so big.

"Any girlfriends out there in America?" Zinzi asked.

"No," he said sipping on his wine, hoping his face didn't betray him.

"But you are seeing women, right?"

"Yeah. I date. But school is pretty intense."

"I hear you're a top student."

"Always. That's an Udaku trait."

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"You and Captain Gcuma…?"

He was curious.

"You were great tonight. Thank you."

"So, what's the deal with that? Why don't you two just get married? I can tell he is into you. He looked shocked when he saw me stepping up."

"My parents. He's older. Divorced. No children. They think being divorced is a sign of bad character and because he never had children with his wife, he must be infertile."

"Who was he married to?"

"Wananeya Duzi."

"The Duzi family? Whoa. How'd he screw that up?"

Zinzi punched his leg.

"Be nice. He fell in love with me."

"You were messing around with a married man?"

"They were separated for three years before he and I…"

"I understand," N'Jobu said.

"I was finishing up my military stint. He was my commanding officer. He just…we just…"

"Easy, Zinzi. You don't have to explain. The picture is clear."

"To be fair, he is descended from the Oni family. His mother is an Oni. He has noble blood."

"But the whole divorce, and maybe him being a lot older is an issue, eh?"

"Yes. But I don't care. My family wants to be in the palace. You know this. But I'm in love. I just want to get married and make that man some babies."

"Does he want to marry you?"

"I know he does. But he's scared to ask. Scared of losing his rank if my family goes after him because they disapprove. That's why I asked you to be seen with me openly. I want him to see that he could lose me. I want him to get a taste of seeing me with someone else."

"And that's supposed to do what? Make him propose?"

"Yes!"

"Well, if I were him, I would say screw the military and elope with you."

Zinzi's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Of course. Look at you. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. You remind me a lot of my…."

He caught himself.

"I remind you of what?"

He sipped from his wine glass. Her eyes got big.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you? In the States."

"Keep this to yourself."

Zinzi studied his face.

"What?" he said.

"I knew something was up with you."

N'Jobu quirked his lips like she was talking nonsense.

"No, really. I noticed something about you when you were at the dinner. You seemed preoccupied but in a good way. And the way you are in this club right now, with all these beautiful women? I know for sure that when I throw this ass back on a man, they try to catch it. Are you in love, Prince N'Jobu?"

He sat back in the booth seat and sighed.

"Yes. I am."

Zinzi smiled.

"Can I see a picture of her?"

"You must keep this to yourself," he said.

"I've told you my deepest darkest secret that I don't want anyone to know about. You can trust me. I'm not looking for trouble."

N'Jobu pulled up one of his favorite photos of him and Califia together. She is straddling his lap and looking up at his cell phone while he is kissing her cheek. His eyes are closed and his arms are around her and squeezing her tight. Her hair is a big thick ball of fury and her freckles are so vivid on her face. But it's her smile that melts him. Those luscious lips. Her teeth. That cheeky twinkle in her eye. The love of his life at this moment.

"My Bast, Prince N'Jobu. She is striking. No wonder…no wonder."

Zinzi is quiet and they both watch the crowd dance. N'Jobu can see his buddies still cutting up, the life of the party on the dance floor.

"Do your parents know about her?" Zinzi finally asks.

"No one. It's a new relationship. I've dated a lot over there. But this…this is something…I don't even know how to act sometimes. I mean, that girl…that girl has got me. What's crazy is, I wasn't even looking for this. I was happy just screwing around…and then, I don't know… something changed. I've never felt like this before, Zinzi. And it bothers me. It weighs on me. Because I can't keep her. I have fallen in love with someone for the first time in my life, and it's with a foreigner. I can never bring her here, and I can never stay there. I'm fucked."

He hadn't meant to lay all of that at Zinzi's feet. But it felt good talking to Zinzi. She made him feel open and trusting. She reached out her hand and cradled his fingers in hers.

"Your secret is safe with me. Although our situations are different, I do understand what you are going through."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a half smile.

"What time is it over there now? You should call her."

"It's around five."

"Call her," Zinzi said getting up, "I'm going to rejoin my friends for a bit."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Zinzi?"

"Before you leave, make sure we talk again. There's something I want to hip you to. A rumor you should be aware of."

"Okay. Is it about me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll come find you."

She nodded and eased back into the crowd.

Tapping his comm tab and placing his earbuds on, N'Jobu hit Califia's cell number.

"Filter background," N'Jobu whispered, and the earbuds worked on blocking out much of the loud music and background voices. It was pretty loud, but he hoped the noise reduction filter would do enough so he wouldn't have to move.

He almost gave up on the ninth ring when he heard her pick.

"N'Jobu!" she exclaimed, and the excitement in her voice made him close his eyes.

"Califia," he said, his voice a gentle whisper.

"How is everything? Is your family thrilled to have you back? What's the weather like—"

"Califia, I love you too."

The music in the background was still a little loud and he thought she didn't hear him.

"Baby?" he said looking down at his fingers. They were trembling.

"I wanted to tell you before you left. But I chickened out. I was going to wait until you came back home to me and tell you in person. But…it just came out like that, and maybe, I dunno, maybe I was scared to say it in person—" she said.

"Say it to me now," he said.

"I love you, N'Jobu. I love the hell out of you."

He released a loud exhalation of breath. He let his eyes drift across the dancers and the bright lights and the wonderful chaos that was his favorite club. His friends were at the bar lifting their drinks to him, their smiles wide and grateful that he was here with them once more. But at this moment, his heart and mind were far away.

"I think I have loved you since the first time I saw you, Califia. When you touched my hand that first time…when you were checking out my bracelet…you looked up at me and …and there was something in your eyes that just caught me. Baby, this is so new to me. But I will do my best to make you happy. Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice trembling over the call.

"I'm going to be thinking of you every day here."

"Same."

"I'm hanging out with my friends right now. We're at a club, and it looks like we're about to hit the dance floor again. Or drink some more I'm guessing. They are holding up shot glasses for me."

"Get off this phone and go have fun!"

Her laughter thrilled him. He would survive this trip. He didn't miss the fact that she had said coming back home to her. She was home. She was where he wanted to be.

"My schedule is going to be a bitch, so I may not be able to get at you until a few days from now."

"Maybe we can face chat next time?"

"I'll try to make that happen. A lot of political stuff is happening and my family is involved, so my time is really messed up. I'm glad to be back. Everyone is well."

"Good," she said.

"Talk soon?"

"Yeah."

He heard her give him a big wet kiss over the phone and then the call was done.

A stirring of confidence filled up his chest and he strolled over to his boys with a serious dip in his step.

###

After spending time at the bar drinking, N'Jobu let his friends return to the dance floor as he bounded up the steps of V.I.P.

He found Zinzi talking with her friends in her private section and he spirited her away to his V.I.P. section where they could be alone together.

"Spill it," he said, fingering a glass of water.

Zinzi tossed her braids over her shoulder.

"There has been talk about you and Princess Bathandwa. The entire country knows your family wants an heir. Everyone also knows that your brother and sister-in-law have been trying for awhile to have a baby."

"So? What does that have to do with me?"

Zinzi's eyes went downcast. She fidgeted with an ornate ruby ring on her index finger.

"There's a story going around that when Princess Bathandwa went to visit New York last June with the Women's Delegation, you flew there to see her because a month after she returned, it was announced she was a few weeks pregnant."

N'Jobu thought back to June. Bathandwa was part of a global women's movement to help neonatal health in so-called Third World countries. They were having a big conference near the U.N. and Bathandwa was giving a speech on African women's progress in East Africa. It was part of Wakanda's political maneuverings in the outside world, feigning the appearance of being a struggling nation with health issues.

During that time, N'Jobu had been messing around with a dish water blonde who taught at Mills College, a professor who he met at a university mixer who talked so much shit to N'Jobu that made him think she was cool that he ended up rearranging her guts in her apartment until he realized later in the situationship that she had a fetish for Black men. Especially dark-skinned men like him who had prowess in bed.

He had screwed the professor and missed a flight to JFK airport where he was to meet Bathandwa and her delegation for a quick hi and bye over dinner. They never met up and she flew home right after her speech.

"We never saw each other," N'Jobu said.

Zinzi shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. She leaves Wakanda after years of trying and comes back announcing a baby on the way. People started talking. There's also your reputation too."

"What is my reputation, hmm?"

"Playboy. Heartbreaker. Party monster. Womb wrecker."

"Womb wrecker? Damn."

"Listen, the people love that about you. No offense, but Prince T'Chaka is like the uptight country Uncle, and you are like everyone's favorite city nephew. They're going to talk."

"How long has this rumor been going?"

"Honestly, at first, it was like a big joke, you know, the stuff people say to poke fun of nobles. But then it started gaining traction, and I am afraid it has reached the ears of the palace. I am quite sure your brother is aware of it."

N'Jobu drank his water and pondered her words.

"I noticed tonight that Princess Bathandwa is very affectionate with you."

"And?"

"You may want to be very careful of how you two interact, especially during this time of the coronation. I do not mean to be rude, but people are watching you closely, and not just because of the betrothal march. Some people really believe that her baby is yours."

"Great," he said sighing heavily.

"This will pass. The good thing is, you will return to the States, and once the baby is born, everyone will see that the royal couple finally received the child they have been praying for."

"Let us hope so," he said, "any other gossip I should know about?"

"Your friend Jax, he is not the father of the baby that Yasmin is having. Your other friend Odwa is."

"Oh, shit."

"I know. You did not hear it from me."

"Hey…I talked to my girlfriend."

"Good. How is she?"

N'Jobu beamed.

"She sounded great."

"You are so cute when you are in love. Just all teeth right now."

N'Jobu smiled wider, then stared at Zinzi with a more somber expression. He rubbed his chin.

"Can I ask you something else, and be honest with me?"

"Go ahead."

N'Jobu glanced around to make sure they were still afforded privacy.

"In your opinion, how are the people taking the change. Are they for or against my brother?"

Zinzi's eyes squinted a bit and she pressed her lips together.

"From what I gather, and this is coming from my parents and other nobles, the change is viewed as a good thing among people under forty. It's the older people who are not thrilled. They are accustomed to our Kings and Queens ruling until they drop dead. No offense, your Highness."

"None taken."

"People generally like Prince T'Chaka. He has a level head, but, some feel that his crowning should come later when he is more mature. How do you feel about it?"

"It seems fast to me. But I will trust my father's judgment."

"It lessens your time being a playboy I bet," she joked.

"Look whose showing teeth now," N'Jobu said.

"You know they weren't going to let you dangle out here for long."

"Lady Zinzi!"

Jax stepped back into the V.I.P. along with the rest of N'Jobu's crew. Zinzi stood and greeted all the guys.

"I'll see you later, Prince N'Jobu."

"I'll call you for lunch."

"Do that," she said, leaving their private space.

Jax and the others watched Zinzi's hips sway as she walked around to rejoin her party.

"Sekmet in heaven. Please tell me you are choosing her, N'Jobu," Odwa said.

"I have tried for years to get that woman to look at me. I think she's stuck up," Jax said, grabbing his crotch in a crude manner.

N'Jobu thought about asking his friends about the rumor, but if it were that serious, one of them would've pulled his coattails by now.

All he knew was that if what she said was true, and the rumor had reached T'Chaka, that may be part of his stress besides becoming King.

The guys were ordering more rounds of shots, and the music was getting hotter.

He'd worry about T'Chaka later.

###

N'Jobu rolled back into the palace way after six in the morning.

He sent his mother a message that he would not be joining the family for brunch, but would be sleeping in before attending the planned evening outing, the opening of a brand-new opera in the West Zana district. The royal family would be having dinner at a chic new restaurant so that the press and paparazzi could get pictures. One of his other top picks for the betrothal march would be joining them for dinner and attending the opera with the family.

Once inside his suite, N'Jobu showered, slathered his body in freshly made cocoa butter, and sat inside his sauna to let the rich body butter soak into his skin. His limbs felt sore and heavy from dancing long and late. He was proud that he wasn't hung over.

The heat softened his skin and he ran his hands up his thighs massaging his muscles. A viewscreen popped up on the glass of the sauna door, and N'Jobu stood up from the wooden bench of the sauna to check it. He forgot he had set a reminder alarm for himself to go jogging in the royal garden.

He reset the alarm for the next day, changed his mind, and set it for later in the afternoon. His wet fingers slid across the screen as he checked for messages. He opened an app for his computer and looked for his private Califia folder. The heat of the sauna woke up his skin. He ran his hand across his pecs, then double tapped the folder. He searched for a particular clip that he filmed with his kimoyo beads. He saw the thumbnail for the clip he wanted and tapped it.

Califia.

As big as life, projected into the sauna in full 3D.

She's on her knees facing him, naked on his bedroom floor. She has her hands on her breasts. He hears himself tell her to play with her tits, and she does, her eyes watching him. He feels bad for a second because it's the only clip he has of her face, and he wasn't trying to film it, he just got caught in the moment and he wasn't using his cell to tape, so the kimoyo beads captured everything.

N'Jobu stepped back from the projected image and just watched, his hands at his sides, the steam in the sauna causing Califia's image to look real. He watched her hands slide up her waist, circle around her stomach and then reach her chest. Her fingers toyed with her nipples first, and N'Jobu fought the urge to touch himself. He simply wanted to observe her.

She pushed her breasts together once her nipples hardened, and he felt his dick stir, blood rushed to help thicken it.

"Turn around, face down. Show me that ass," he said in the video.

Califia pivoted and crossed her arms on the carpet and laid her head on her hands, right on top of a pillow that was on the floor. Her ass sat up in front of him.

"Arch that back," his video voice commanded, and she used those dancer skills that trained her body to bend with complete control to pop that ass up higher. Her thighs parted and her ass cheeks separated enough so that her pussy was visible to him.

In the sauna, N'Jobu was weakened, his cock jutted out more as his eyelids drooped from the blessing that sat before him.

"Hhhhmm….baby," he slipped between his gritted teeth. The bulb of his cock was fully fleshed out. He reached his hand up above his head towards a shelf that housed a small black box. He reached inside the box just when Califia's right hand reached between her legs and rubbed tight counterclockwise circles on her clit.

"Oooooohmmm…" N'Jobu groaned as his dick bobbed. It felt so heavy.

"Let me see those hands," N'Jobu commanded on video, and Califia pressed her face on the pillow. Both her hands reached back and pulled open her cheeks. Her fingernails were painted a satiny dark maroon, and they looked so pretty against her skin.

N'Jobu moaned again when he saw her opening give a small spasm and he saw her tasty pink pussy gap open wider. This woman is fucking art, he thought. There should be paintings of this fat juicy vulva throbbing open on museum walls. This is why men waged wars for centuries. Just to have the power to control this pulsing, throbbing, dripping wet and divine thing. Looking at Califia, even in a digitized state, he knew what a living Goddess looked like.

"Babb..byy…" he stuttered, slipping his fingers out of the black box and pulling out the item he needed. A red cock ring.

He slipped the red band over his dick and rolled it all the way around his balls. His sack was very sensitive when he touched it, and when he released his balls, they felt massive hanging from him even with the new constriction placed on them.

"Jobu…Jobu…" Califia was panting out his name.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't you let go," he said out loud to himself in the sauna as he stroked his erection, the shaft slick from the cocoa butter and steam, his stomach muscles taut, and his pecs flexing from the strain.

"Please….please…Jobu…fuck me…" she begged, spreading her cheeks wider.

"Shit…"

N'Jobu reached back into the box and pulled out a silver glans ring and twisted it around the girth of his frenulum. When he released it, he felt his glans swell more. He stopped touching his erection and just watched Califia begging for his dick. It was torture, an excruciating test of self-control. The more she begged for his cock, the more his dick jumped. He used his own muscles to make his dick move, the sweet pain of the cock rings constricting him building up his intense pleasure.

He watched himself slap Califia's sensitive clit with his hand, sharp strikes that made her yelp as he watched her own body's natural lubricant ooze out of her glistening center.

"Dammit," he muttered, watching her squirm and not touching himself.

He watched himself move into the scene and grab her waist, slowly sinking his cock into her pussy. N'Jobu found himself being even more turned on watching his own dick placate his woman who had been begging and pleading for that moment of entry. Now he was listening to her cry out in pleasure as he forced her to keep that back arched by pressing one hand down on her lower back.

"Jobu…huhhnn…s'deep…hmmmmnn…you in so deep…s'deep…fuck…DADDY…you in there…you in there…"

She was wailing and squirming harder, but he kept his dick deep inside her with a repetitive short slow thrust. The movement made his balls just smash softly against her clit.

N'Jobu began to stroke his erection, because now what he was waiting for was coming up soon. He watched himself jump from doggy to froggy style as he kept that agonizing deep thrust. Califia was lying back on her hands again, trying her best not to collapse from overstimulation and no release. His balls would press into her clit and she would wiggle to try and get the friction to offset her orgasm, but the swivel in N'Jobu's hips prevented that. He was torturing her on purpose.

And he was torturing his real self too as he watched. He gripped his cock tight. A thick stream of pre-cum spilled out in a long clear drizzle down to the sauna floor. His climax was in sight. He watched himself plunge down deeper into Califia and hold still.

"Cum on this dick!" his video self barked at her.

Califia's ass jiggled and then he watched her entire vulva spasm and pulse around his cock.

N'Jobu's eyes shut tight as he shot hot ropes of cum onto the glass door of the sauna. His voice bellowed and grunted freely in the soundproof space as he coated the door with so much cum, it looked like someone had thrown a glass of milk on it.

When his eyes opened, he caught the last part of the video where he pulled out of Califia with his jizz spilling behind him from the release.

He leaned against the glass and gulped in as much air as he could, but he had to exit the sauna because it wasn't enough to revive his breath with the heated air going into his desperate lungs.

He pulled off the cock rings and dropped them on the sink in the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw his blown pupils gazing back at him.

"Shit!" he yelled out, trying to gain his composure as he gripped the edges of the marble sink.

He staggered into his room and flopped onto his bed, still winded.

He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 21 HERE

Read “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” from the beginning here.

#njobu #n'jobu #black panther #blackpanther #eriklives #wakanda #daddykillmonger #tchalla #tchaka #t'challa #t'chaka #black #black women #njobufanfic #njobufanfiction #n'jobu fanfic #n'jobu fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #blackwomen

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First (Chapter 8)

Chapter 8

"You don't know babe When you hold me And kiss me slowly It's the sweetest thing And it don't change If I had it my way You would know that you are

You're the coffee that I need in the morning You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring Won't you give yourself to me Give it all…"

"Best Part" Daniel Caesar & H.E.R.

The official edict from N'Jobu's parents regarding his getting around the city was that he was never to take public transportation. When he attended the London School of Economics during undergrad, two Dora Milaje were assigned to tail him at all times and put a dent in his social life. He wanted things to be different while he was in the U.S. and insisted that he did not need the Dora Milaje to babysit him.

His imported BMW had been retrofitted in Wakanda to have the latest surveillance and protection tech to keep the Prince safe while he was in America. Bullet-proof, bomb-proof, and laser-proof, the vibranium enhanced automobile could withstand any manner of attack. Even poison gas.

Spending the day with Califia and her friends caused N'Jobu to disobey the edict when he decided to move around with them without the use of his car. Hidden away in his bomber jacket was a light-weight vibranium body shield that he could activate if necessary. Not one time during his first year in California did he ever have to use any weapons to keep himself safe. He kept a low profile, often using fake names in different places to keep off anyone's radar.

It was so refreshing for him to ride the BART system with the group and mingle around regular citizens outside of school. It also meant he could drink a little more and not worry about driving while intoxicated. The sizeable group from the museum voted to go hang out at a popular microbrewery on Haight Street. They arrived in time for Happy Hour and were able to secure several tables that they pushed together near the street-facing window.

N'Jobu sat across from Califia and Soliel who were busy drinking bitter red ales while he took his time savoring a cider Califia had picked out for him to try. It was a ginger-grass cider brew that packed quite a punch. She made sure to have a small carafe of wine available in case the cider wasn't to his liking. His skin felt tingly from the cider, and his brain was buzzing with the conversation and company surrounding him.

He glanced around the table to take in their party: Bakari and Shavonne cozied up next to each other sharing a plate of bacon-wrapped dates with goat cheese. Langston and Rolita tucking into French-fried asparagus and cauliflower. A young man named Reynaldo who appeared to be the youngest of their group and who was carded by the waiter much to the delight of his friends who teased him about his baby face.

Soliel's girlfriend Aunjanue was arguing with Califia and Soliel over a new rap album that dropped online. The three of them shared a meat plate of andouille sausage and currywurst sausage with a side of russet potatoes. N'Jobu picked at his own meal of grilled romaine salad with a heavy dose of bacon vinaigrette. Aunjanue was adamant that her assessment of the album was correct and she was holding court at the table to prove her point.

"The problem is, all of you expect rhyme styles to stay the same. What you all call mumble rap is just a new evolution of the culture," Aunjanue said. She wore a thick topknot of black braids, her dark brown skin having the same reddish tint as Califia. Soliel had her arm around the back of Aunjanue's chair.

"Part of the culture is knowing what a muthafucker is saying," Califia blurted out, causing the entire table to laugh.

"James Brown often sang words that we had no idea what he was saying, but we don't dog him out," Aunjanue leveled at Califia.

"Slow your roll, Aunjanue, James Brown was often doing that Gullah talk, so just because the masses didn't understand it, don't mean people like him didn't. Get on that, Cali," Bakari said pointing at her.

"Gullah?" N'Jobu asked Califia. She took a quick swig of her ale and looked at him.

"My great-grandparents are from Georgia, Geechie country. Um, we're known as Gullah people. They were descended from enslaved Ibo who lived on some of the small islands off the Georgia coast. Their language is a mixture of Ibo, Creole English and a little bit of Muskogee Creek. Native American. They say a lot of James Brown's grunts and groans was Geechie talk."

"Do you know any of it?"

"Me? Nah, that's old-timey talk."

"You should look into learning it, Califia," Rolita said, "my tribe is teaching our young people, but too many of our elders are passing on, so we're losing some things."

"Rolita's people are Yurok. California indigenous." Califia said.

"Ah, yes, Yurok," N'jobu said, pouring himself a glass of cabernet from the carafe.

He was familiar with the more well-known Native American groups. But he had never heard of the Gullah before. Creoles and New Orleans history were more familiar to him. He knew very little about Georgia or Califia's people. But he found it interesting that the Ibo were part of her roots.

"Speaking of my people, please tell me you all are coming out to Alcatraz on Thanksgiving," Rolita said tugging on her two short braids and snacking down on an asparagus stalk.

"I'm going," Soliel said.

"Me too," said Califia reaching for the carafe and pouring herself a half glass of wine.

"You know I'm down," said Bakari scooting back his chair to give Shavonne room to get up. She headed back towards the restrooms in the pub.

"What's happening in Alcatraz? Isn't that an old prison?" N'Jobu asked pouring the rest of the wine into his own glass. He glanced over at Rolita.

"Several different Native American groups get together to do a sunrise celebration instead of recognizing Thanksgiving," Rolita said. "we've been doing this for over forty years now. I would love for you to come with us," Rolita said.

"I will do that," N'Jobu said, pulling out his cell and updating his personal calendar.

"You have to get up early man, the crack of dawn's ass," Bakari said.

Rolita went into a little more detail about the gathering, and as he listened, N'Jobu began to get a clearer picture of Califia's world. Most of her friends were activists of some sort. She also had a very diverse group of friends from all walks of life who were committed to various social justice causes. Everyone seated at the table was a person of color, and N'Jobu wondered if she had any white friends or peers that she associated with. N'Jobu didn't get a sense of animosity towards whiteness or white people from the group, but he was eager to know if their activism precluded having to engage with other white students. The mere thought of that didn't sit with him very well.

His own very selective peer group was just as diverse, but he did have quite a few white schoolmates he engaged within his department at school and in his social life. Also, his major tended to be filled with more white students. He began to think that Califia and her friends self-segregated much to their detriment. An open hand could do more in the world than a closed fist.

Their waiter came by the table again and N'Jobu requested another glass of cider from the jovial brunette who kept filling his side glass of water every chance she got. The conversation moved onto reality TV shows they were keeping up with, and then the movies they wanted to see. He kept his eye on Califia, enjoying her laughter and the soft chiding she gave her friends when they disagreed about things. When she became passionate about a topic, her voice would raise an octave and her eyes would squint as if she were going to use the force of her will to bend them to her side. A couple of times she jabbed her finger into his shoulder to make her point and he savored her touch. He was finishing his second glass of cider when she reached for it and drank the last cool dregs.

"That's not bad," she said, a smear of her lip gloss staining the small glass she still held in her hand.

"Would you like to share another?" he asked. Before she answered, two men outside knocked on the thick glass of the pub staring at them. She placed his glass back near his hand and he watched her gaze at the men entering the pub. Bakari stood up slapping hands and bumping shoulders with both men. One was a tall slender Latino with tats on his arms and wearing an Angels baseball cap. The other was a medium-build black guy with twists in his hair and TV star looks. The black guy and the Latino made their way to the empty seat between N'Jobu and Califia.

"Babe," the black man said kissing Califia's cheek.

"Hey, Xavier," Califia said, looking nowhere in N'Jobu's direction. Greetings went around, and Xavier's friend Julian grabbed another chair from an empty table and further added distance between N'Jobu and Califia.

Xavier was affable, everyone else at the table except for Shavonne knew him, and N'Jobu sensed from Califia's terse expression that something was off in their relationship. Xavier was leaning into her, but her shoulders leaned more towards Soliel.

The pub grew louder as more customers filled the brewery, and there was music playing above the din that made it harder for N'Jobu to keep up with all the conversations that were going on. The only person he wanted to focus on was Califia, but Xavier was making N'Jobu vacillate between staying and leaving the group. He didn't like sitting near her with some other dude hanging off her. His jaw kept getting tight every time Xavier dipped near her face and whispered in her ear.

At one point he caught Soliel's eye, and he thought for a moment that she could see right through his discomfort. N'Jobu checked his cell for the time and was astonished at how late it had gotten. They had been in the pub for over two hours. The sun was setting in a fiery crimson splash outside when the check finally arrived at their table. The group left behind a healthy tip for their server, and once they were all outside, N'Jobu had to stomach Xavier throwing his arm around Califia's shoulder.

"There's a bar down the street that has reggae music tonight. Julian's homie plays the drums. Y'all up for that? Free cover charge," Xavier told everyone.

"Free is enticing," Rolita said throwing a light jacket on.

N'Jobu pulled on his bomber jacket and checked his cell again. Andrea was blowing up his phone.

"Are you interested in checking it out, N'Jobu?" Califia asked. Xavier was looking at N'Jobu, his left arm draped over Califia, his hand dangling near her left breast. N'Jobu wanted to reach over and pull the man's hand and arm away from her. His whole day today had been special because he had time to be around her, share parts of himself with her, got to know how her mind worked when she was excited about something, and now he felt restricted because her man was with them. Her man.

N'Jobu swallowed thickly, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He had a light buzz and Califia was staring at him with those cat eyes of hers that took on a sultry look from the rays of the setting sun. She pursed her lips like she was about to say something else and Xavier led her away to lead the pack towards the next hangout spot. Man or no man, N'Jobu needed to be near her. He tagged along despite his misgivings.

###

Califia stood near the back of the bar listening to the reggae band do a fair rendition of "Sun is Shining". She was swaying along with the heavy bass rhythms, Xavier next to her with his fourth beer in his hand. She kept her mouth shut after his third beer, but the fourth one was causing him to act a little sloppy in public. The bar was packed with eager dancing patrons, their little posse bringing in the smattering of color in an otherwise predominately white space. Behind her, N'Jobu sat on a barstool enjoying the vibe and downing a rum and coke. He was only five feet away from her, but she could feel his eyes on her, boring into the back of her head. Xavier had been extra touchy-feely with her in the reggae bar and it made her feel uncomfortable because he was only doing it when N'Jobu was near them.

The first thirty minutes in the bar had been fun, the entire group dancing on the small cement dance floor. N'Jobu had been snagged by a pretty sandy-haired white woman, and Califia enjoyed watching him sway to the loud music. He was actually a pretty good dancer and she catcalled him when the music got good to him and he flashed her his pearly whites and she felt her cheeks raise up higher than usual when she smiled back at him. That's when Xavier caught a whiff of something between them and started fondling her more openly. He wasn't one for public PDA, but Califia's flirty behavior around N'Jobu kicked it up a few notches.

N'Jobu had switched out his dancing partner for a cute black woman with a sexy frohawk, and the live band high-powered through a classic Dawn Penn jam. Califia's arms were casually draped around Xavier's neck as she watched N'Jobu dance and talk to the woman, his hands sliding up and down the woman's back. N'Jobu wasn't wearing his jacket while dancing, and the woman was rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

Xavier spun Califia around and pressed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his crotch against her ass.

"There it is baby," he said, singing along with the song and dry humping her, "arch that back girl, show these fools how it's done."

Xavier's hands slid down from her shoulders and held her waist, his hips gyrating and thrusting against her. She stepped away from his grip, turning to face him with a rigid smile on her face. She could feel his dick pressing into her stomach when she hugged him.

"Be good," she hissed at him as she tried to ignore the pokes his hardness was giving to her.

Over Xavier's shoulder, she could see N'Jobu watching her, his eyes gone narrow. She gave him a little wave and he nodded at her. She noticed his hands were riding just above his partner's butt and her lips pressed together in a tight grimace when she felt Xavier's hands grabbing and separating her ass cheeks with his hands.

"Baby you feel so good," Xavier murmured. His mouth crashed into her lips while she was still staring at N'Jobu. His kisses were sloppy and over-exaggerated and Califia endured it until the song ended. As the crowd clapped, Califia pushed away from Xavier.

"I'm going to get some water," she said, hurrying away from him.

Now they were standing together and listening to music, Xavier giving harsh whispers in her ear every other minute.

"Why are you tripping tonight?" Xavier asked.

"You are doing a little too much for me."

"Like what?"

"I don't need you molesting me in public."

"Molesting you? You're my woman. We're having fun."

"I'll keep it buck then, you're not holding your liquor and I don't like how you're touching me."

"You crazy."

Xavier walked into the crowd to get closer to the band. Califia drew in a deep breath and released a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was for Xavier to get loud and make a scene, embarrassing her in front of her friends. She turned around to go back to the bar and found N'Jobu still sitting and watching her.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really."

She sat on the stool next to him and asked for a coke from the bartender.

"Trouble in paradise then?"

"Tuh," she answered. She drank her coke and watched the band. The room was jam-packed to the rafters, she couldn't even see where her people were, not even Xavier.

"The music is very good," he said.

She stared at N'Jobu knowing he was trying to lighten her mood.

"You are a good dancer," she said giving him a sly smile. She saw his eyes relax and it made her feel better.

"You are much better. I like watching you move."

She smiled again.

"You want to dance?" he asked.

"Not right now, if that's okay. I just need to chill for a minute. Xavier's got my pressure up."

N'Jobu nodded, set down his drink and slipped off the stool.

"You don't have to go," Califia said quickly, reaching out and pulling his arm back. She looked at her hand on his arm and pulled away fast. She hadn't meant to grab him. She looked desperate and her face grew warm.

"Sorry," she whispered.

N'Jobu didn't get back on the stool, but he did stand in front of her. He was close enough so that his thighs were touching her knees. He was almost eye level with her.

"What's the problem with you and Xavier?"

Califia tilted her head back and laughed in a way that had a little bite to it.

"Everything," she stammered, and then caught herself with her open honesty. N'Jobu's eyes didn't press her, but they did make her feel safe. She took a long sip of her coke and leaned in closer so N'Jobu could hear her clearly. She was cognizant of the fact that her knees were pressing hard into his thighs at this point. Her head was still a bit foggy with the drinking she did earlier, but she was comfortable.

"Earlier he told me he had bought tickets for us to go to New Orleans for winter break. But I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. I told him that. He was upset that he paid for a ticket I might not use. That's the first thing." She took another sip of coke, "You really don't need to hear this, it's boring," she said.

"No, keep going. It's good to talk things out with other people. I'm a good listener," he said.

His voice had grown deeper, at least that's how it sounded to Califia. His expression was like that of a Priest patiently taking in a confessional with no judgment.

"Xavier is a great dude. He's smart, educated, about to get a bomb ass job-"

"And very good-looking," N'Jobu said smiling at her.

"No doubt. On paper, he is everything a woman is supposed to want. But sometimes I look at him like it's not enough. Like he doesn't get me. He's the longest relationship I've ever been in, but I feel like there might be something else out there better for me. And I feel like shit for thinking that when other women would give their teeth for a man like him."

She shook her head at how easy that flowed from her mouth. She hadn't even said those things to Soliel or Bakari. But here she was giving somewhat intimate details about her boyfriend to a man she had masturbated over. Many times. Jesus be a rock.

"Serah told me to break up with him."

"Why don't you? You aren't happy, right? Just end it."

Califia's chest hitched a bit and she felt the pinpricks of a small tear forming in her right eye.

"I don't want to hurt him," she murmured and the lone tear fell down her cheek. She reached up to wipe her cheek, but N'Jobu already had his left thumb on her face wiping the teardrop away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said. Califia took in another deep breath and released it. She felt a shudder go through herself. There. She had finally confessed her real reason for not breaking up. She didn't want to hurt Xavier.

"I keep hoping he'll dump me, or we'll have this huge dramatic fight where I can act belligerent and he just tells me he quits, but it never happens. We are in this stalemate. Comfortably numb. I tell myself there has to be someone that's a better fit for me, but I'm scared there won't be, and what if I leave him on a whim and I never find that other person?"

N'Jobu still had his thumb on her cheek.

"You'll never know if you don't let him go, Califia."

"I'm holding him hostage, aren't I?"

N'Jobu only gave her a sad smile.

"I'm such a selfish bitch. I need to make a decision soon."

"I wish you would," he said, his voice gone husky, almost like a command.

Califia stared at N'Jobu. His thumb traced down her face and touched her lips. The sensation of his thumb on her lips tickled and sparked the skin there. She pursed her lips so that the touch felt like a kiss. Another tear formed in her eye.

"You are beautiful when you are angry, you are beautiful when you laugh, and you are even more beautiful when you cry," he said.

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I wish you weren't with him because I really want to kiss you right now," he said.

The strumming in her heart turned into a gallop as his eyes swept down to her lips. The music in the bar was far away, the voices of the other patrons gone mute in her mind. She opened her thighs and pulled him closer to her, holding onto his arms. He rested his forehead on hers and she closed her eyes. She tried to match his steady breathing, but her own breathing was erratic. She could smell the rum on his breath as he let his hands run up her thighs and rest on her hips.

"Califia," he said.

"Say my whole name," she said, still clutching his arms, afraid to move, afraid to escape his warmth.

He chuckled and whispered in her ear, "Califia Stevens." Her toes curled in her heels, and the tingle from his tongue swiping her ear when he spoke her name felt like the fluttering of butterflies. She could probably cum from him just whispering her name over and over.

She pulled her forehead away from his and cradled his neck with her hands.

"Say my name again," she told him.

###

When N'Jobu opened his mouth to speak her name, Califia pressed her lips into his and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. He didn't back away from her. He didn't tell her to stop. Their tongues swirled around trying to find an acceptable rhythm, and when N'Jobu's hands pressed into her lower back, she ceded control of their mouths over to him. Now in control, N'Jobu plundered the heat he found between their lips encouraged to keep his pace by the soft humming he heard deep in her throat. He slowed down to enjoy the wet smacking sounds they gave off. He pulled her closer to the edge of the barstool leaning back just a bit so that she couldn't feel the strain of his cock growing thicker in his pants.

Kissing her deeply, slowly, wetly, he found his mind feverishly trying to gather his wits. Xavier was in the room somewhere, possibly heading back to them, or maybe even her friends would spot them and break up their joining. He had been dying to kiss her all day but felt the opportunity would never happen with Xavier there, but here they were lip-locked, with Califia sucking on his tongue the way he imagined her sucking on his dick.

"Califia, shit," he growled in her mouth, threading his fingers through the back of her bushy hair and yanking hard on it so that she was looking up into his face from the force of his grip.

Her lips were parted and he could see that magical tongue between her teeth. Her eyes were half closed and up close he could see how thick her eyebrows were. He kissed the freckles on her nose, pulled her hair harder and buried his face on the side of her neck, nipping her on a spot just shy of her collarbone.

He started lightly sucking on her neck, enjoying the whimpers spilling from her lips and the quivering from her thighs. He could feel his dick twitching in his pants, probably already spilling sticky beads of pre-cum inside his boxers. He needed to stop or he would be fucking this girl on the barstool and not giving a fuck who was in the room.

He pulled away from her, panting a bit himself and giving up more space between them. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, so he hopped up on his stool and gulped down the last of his rum and coke.

He watched Califia run her fingers on the edges of her lips to fix the last of her ruined lip gloss. She closed her legs and tugged on her top, peeling away the material from the sweat on her upper body.

The girl with the frohawk ambled over to N'Jobu and asked him to dance and he jumped at the chance to get away from Califia, escape the dizzying power she had over him now that she had laid that kiss on him. He didn't even look back to see what her reaction was to his leaving her at the bar. He just needed to escape. And time to think.

He had women all over, and was free to kiss, flirt, fornicate and break hearts if he so desired. All his women were free. But Califia had Xavier. She wasn't free. And as much as he wanted her (in his bed, on his face, sitting on his dick), he was not down for any triangle. After that kiss, he needed to fuck her in every position possible before he left for Wakanda. If she fucked the way she kissed, he was a dead man. And she was worth dying for. Courtney, the girl he was dancing with tried getting his attention. They danced to a song called "Night Nurse", and Courtney was body rolling and smashing her cute ass against his groin, keeping him hard. He looked around to see Califia at the bar with Rolita, Soliel, and Aunjanue. They were having an animated discussion from what he could tell, and he wondered if the conversation was about him.

The band's last set was finished and terrible music replaced it from a D.J. who didn't follow the theme of the reggae vibes but instead blasted the audience with Euro-Pop. He felt his cell vibrate. Checking it he saw that everyone was meeting outside to say goodbye for the night. N'Jobu thanked Courtney for dancing with him and went to retrieve his bomber jacket from coat check.

The others were lingering on the corner away from the bar. Califia was speaking to Xavier in hushed tones, and N'Jobu knew she wouldn't break up with him right then, but he prayed that it would be tonight. He hoped she would do it quickly because there was a fire in his spirit that he didn't think he could suppress for very long.

He prided himself on being respectful, but deep down he knew he could fuck her while she was still with Xavier. If she couldn't break up with him because she was scared, he knew he was willing to do it for her. He was a Prince who had never been denied what he wanted when it came to women. He wanted Califia. Wanted her bad. The way she kissed him told him she wanted him too. He felt empathy for her situation. Xavier was a long-term love that had soured. She needed to uproot the man and make room for N'Jobu. Watching the shaky couple speak to one another bugged the hell out of N'Jobu. Now that he tasted those lips and felt those thighs and hips, he was ready to bulldoze Xavier out of the way in a heartbeat.

"I think you should come home with me."

N'Jobu overheard Califia telling Xavier to go with her. Xavier, a little loopy in the legs was pushing her hands off of him.

"Naw, I'm going to hang out with Julian a little bit. I'll be home later," Xavier slurred, kissing Califia on her cheek.

"We'll be fine, Califia. I'll have him home no later than midnight. He won't turn into a pumpkin, I promise," Julian said waving goodnight to everyone. The two men lumbered off into the night laughing together, and N'Jobu eased his way over to Califia and Bakari.

Hugs were given, goodbyes were shared, and N'Jobu soon found himself walking to a BART station with Bakari and Califia. The ride to Xavier's apartment was mellow. They talked about the band, how good the music was and which pale ale or cider they liked the best.

In no time they were walking Califia up to Xavier's apartment.

"Hey, the Syfy channel is having a Godzilla marathon. You want to make popcorn and watch the next one coming on?" Califia suggested.

"Microwave or hot air?" Bakari asked.

"Hot air, with real butter," Califia said.

"You down?" Bakari asked N'Jobu.

He was. He would get a chance to see where Califia crashed, and spend a little more time with her, even if Bakari was there. The night was still young.

###

Xavier's place was small. The bathroom was inside their bedroom. N'Jobu relieved himself of the last vestiges of liquor in his system. Snacking on fresh popcorn and bottled water, he felt clear-headed and fully hydrated.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he couldn't help but stare at the double bed that Xavier shared with Califia. It was unmade. He pushed thoughts of them together in that space out of his head. She didn't want him anymore. There was no need to harbor any envy towards Xavier. According to Califia, he was a good dude, but not the one for her. On a folding chair near their bed, N'Jobu spotted a pair of skimpy bikini panties and a lace bra. He gritted his teeth. Why did she stay here if she didn't want him? She had a grandmother who had a house and friends with places. Hell, she could stay with him and Bakari.

He stopped his train of thought. Slow down, he told himself. She was a chick he wanted to dick down in the worst way. No need to be thinking roommates and shit. His lust was writing checks he knew his ass couldn't cash. He'd lusted after women before, but he hadn't given thoughts to moving them in. It was just his male ego wilding a bit at seeing where another man fucked Califia. He clenched his fists. She was going to be his soon. Stop tripping.

When he returned to the livingroom, Bakari was still curled up in blankets on a bean bag near a plush maroon couch where Califia was seated. They each had fresh bowls of popcorn. Califia passed N'Jobu his bowl.

"Lots of butter this time," she said. N'Jobu sat next to her, keeping his legs on the floor and away from Califia's legs which were curled on the couch. They got through half of a Godzilla movie on Monster Island when Bakari fell asleep, snoring into the bean bag.

"We should leave," N'Jobu said, staring at Bakari slumped low inside the beanbag, the blanket surrounding him covering his face.

"No rush, Xavier's not coming back tonight. You guys can crash here if you want."

"Your man knows Bakari very well, but he doesn't know me. That will probably not be cool with him."

He saw Califia flinch a bit when he called Xavier her man. He stared at her, glanced at her lips, then looked into her eyes again. He wanted to devour her lips.

"Should we talk about the kiss at the bar?" she asked.

"Only if you want to."

"I do."

He waited for her to speak. She was wearing a long button up Wonder Woman nightshirt and thick wool socks on her feet. Her hair was still blooming all over her head.

"It was wrong of me to do that. Especially since I'm still with someone. I shouldn't have put you in a messy situation."

"I don't care."

Califia blinked at him several times.

"You don't?"

"I like you a lot, Califia. I want to spend time with you. It just so happens you are with someone. As soon as you fix that, I will properly step to you."

Her mouth fell open, then shut, then opened again. N'Jobu reached over into her popcorn bowl, snagged a few buttery kernels and popped them into her mouth.

"I think of you all the time, Califia. And the way you kissed me tonight was…whoa."

She chuckled. He reached out for her hand. She looked down at him, then placed her left hand in his.

"What about you? Do you think of me?" The playful lilt in his voice moved her. He kissed her hand, still waiting for her to answer.

"I do, and I feel so guilty about it."

N'Jobu held up a hand to stop her from negative talk.

"The heart wants what the heart wants. Leave all the bad thoughts you have about your situation behind. People grow apart. It is natural. You say you are worried about not finding someone after you leave him. Who am I to you?"

Bakari snored loudly and shifted in the bean bag, but neither one of them was worried about him listening to their conversation. Once Bakari was knocked out, he was out.

"You don't want to answer me?"

"It's just a lot N'Jobu."

"I understand that. But…who am I to you?"

"Someone I'd like to know better."

"As a friend only?"

"No."

He put his bowl of popcorn on the floor and pulled a tense Califia onto his lap.

"Relax," he said holding her by her waist and legs.

"This is weird for me," she said.

"How so?"

"We've only hung out together a few times, but it feels intense each time. We know nothing about each other. And yet…"

"And yet what?"

She shrugged and hid her face in her hands.

"I don't know. It feels like it did when I was nine and had my first crush."

"I am honored to be your grown-up crush."

Califia giggled.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked.

She nodded and he lifted up his face and found her lips once more. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and his left hand held her face. The kissing this time was gentle, still filled with longing and exploration, but N'Jobu wanted to relish the moment without waking up Bakari. He made sure not to nibble or suck too hard on her neck, not wanting to leave love bites for Xavier to see in the morning. When the thought of Xavier crossed through his mind again, he broke from their kiss leaving Califia sighing in frustration.

"Can I touch you?" he asked.

She nodded vigorously, and he kissed her again, licking the outline of her lips and then sucking on her tongue, tasting the salt and butter from their late-night snack. Her nipples had beaded through her nightgown, and N'Jobu reached up and tugged on each one through the cloth. He watched Califia bite back a moan when he touched her, so he tugged harder, looking at the protrusions. He unbuttoned the nightgown down to her belly, freeing her breasts. When he saw them in the glow of the television, he looked up at her face, his fingers pulling on each nipple. She did her best to remain silent, but she bit into her full lips, and the vision of that made him squeeze his eyes shut and shift her ass harder onto his dick.

Califia rotated her hips and ground herself into his lap, feeling the swelling of him push back on her.

"N'Jobu, suck on my nipples…please."

He obliged, his lush lips taking turns wrapping around each ripe nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue at varying speeds. He liked how big her nipples swelled, so he kept alternating his ministrations, sucking on one and tugging on the other, the pulling sensation so intense for her he guessed because she was whimpering up a storm on his lap. She started bouncing on his dick and he let one of her nipples slip from his mouth with a loud pop because it was too much for him. He wanted to play with her pussy, but that was too risky. They were already pushing it with Bakari on the floor covered up and snoring like a banshee.

"Damn," she uttered under her breath, her eyes finally opening back up to stare at him, "I can feel your dick….so…big," she gasped. He shifted her on his lap so that she was facing him, her thighs spread on either side of his hips. He could see and play with her big tits fully as she rocked on him. He didn't want to pull up her nightgown to see her panties. It was enough to have her grinding on him. He held her shoulders and alternated sucking on her tits and fondling them.

"Can I touch you?" she asked.

Holy Bast, he wanted her to. But he couldn't. He could barely contain himself with her jockeying on his lap. He didn't even want to lift up her gown and look at her pussy which had to be soaking her panties.

With his teeth set on edge, he whispered, "No."

The look on her face made him feel horrible like he had stolen a gift from her on Christmas like the Grinch. But then she twisted her bottom lip and bit on it again, and the look of denied pleasure she gave him made his dick jump in his pants and she felt it.

"Califia, sithandwa sam, you have me so turned on, I could cum right now."

"We could go into the bedroom," she said, lifting up. He yanked her back down hard by her hips. She gasped. His eyes narrowed when he looked at her.

"I'm not going into that bedroom with you. When I take you all the way, it will be in my bed. Understand?"

She nodded. The thought of that double bed brought out tight cords in his neck.

"Did you fuck him today?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. But she didn't answer him.

He lifted up her nightgown in the back and slapped her ass hard with a wide-open palm. Her body lurched forward, forcing her to grip his shoulders for balance and she quickly glanced over at Bakari.

"Don't look at him. Look at me. Answer the question. Did you fuck Xavier today?"

He rubbed her full left ass cheek with his right hand, knowing the sting was wearing off, even as his dick swelled bigger from striking her. She took it like a big girl. He slapped her ass again in the same spot. She squeezed her eyelids shut, keeping all sound inside herself. He rubbed her ass tenderly, lifted up the smacked cheek and squeezed it. Damn this girl was too much for him.

"Hit me again and I'll tell you," she snarled at him.

N'Jobu felt his eyebrows raise up on his face. He gave her a nasty smile and struck her other ass cheek twice, hard enough to make her wince and suck on her teeth. He rubbed the tender flesh. Then squeezed both her round globes in his hands. He needed to end this soon.

"Tell me," he whispered. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. She picked up on it and ran with it.

"What if I did?"

She was gyrating on him and he did his best to stay on task, to not shut his eyes and let her dominate him for a while. She was pushing him to his limit. He knew she would, eventually. She started bouncing on him again, learning very quickly that he liked that. Her motion made her titties bounce too, and he sat there watching heaven on his lap. If he didn't get her off of him soon, he was going to nut in his pants. He was too old to have cum in his pants and not inside a woman he wanted. He yanked her by her hair and pulled her face closer to his.

It would be easy to take Bakari home in his car, then drive back to her in his own BMW and fuck the wokeness out of her. But this was not the time and most definitely was not the place. He twisted his fingers in her hair tighter, letting her know she'd better stop playing with him.

"Ow, Jobu…baby," she pleaded. Good God of the worlds. He loved it when she called him that. No one had ever called him Jobu. He was going to countdown and rejoice on the day he finally blew her back out.

"The question," he said.

"Yes. I did. I fucked him. Early this morning. I fucked him."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Why do you care?"

The corners of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile that made her bite her lip again. He released her hair, unfastened his pants and pulled down his boxers just enough to release his dick that bobbed against his stomach once it was freed. He grabbed her right hand and placed it on his cock. She squeezed it, gripping the swollen head so tight he gritted his teeth to keep from spilling all over her hand.

"This is your dick now. Understand? I don't want you fucking him ever again. You break up with him. I'm not going to rush you, Califia. But this will be waiting for you."

He let her stroke him. His dick was so slick with pre-cum that they both enjoyed the slippery sound of her hand running up and down his shiny length. She leaned in and kissed him while she stroked him.

"This mine?" she whispered in his ear.

"All yours," he said kneading her tits and plucking on her nipples once more.

She stopped playing with his dick and shoved her fingers into her panties.

"Don't you want to touch me here?"

He released her breasts and zipped up his pants. He drew her back in for another wet kiss then pulled away from her.

"When I touch you there and make you cum, you have to be a free woman."

Califia fastened her nightgown.

"You should go then," she said.

Califia shifted in his lap and stood up, grabbing the popcorn bowls and taking them into her kitchen. N'Jobu adjusted his private parts and woke Bakari up from the floor.

"Let's go, Bakari."

It took N'Jobu nearly ten minutes to get Bakari awake and shuffling to find his shoes. N'Jobu took Bakari's car keys from his pocket. Califia was back from the kitchen watching them.

"Do you need some help with him?" she asked N'Jobu.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," Bakari fussed at her.

"I'm driving," N'Jobu said.

"Bet," Bakari said heading out the front door and down the stairs to get to his car.

N'Jobu stood by the open front door facing Califia. She didn't move towards him.

"I meant what I said. I won't rush you," he said.

"Okay."

A new awkwardness permeated the room. They both felt the shift in the air, the change in their interactions weighing heavily on them. She was not his woman, but he had staked a claim on her. Told her directly. She wanted him too, he was sure of that. The ball was in her court. He wouldn't act until she came to him first. For the first time in a long time, Prince N'Jobu Udaku was at the mercy of a woman for affection that he craved like air. He wanted….no, needed, he needed her to give herself to him. No strings. No wounded lover on her mind.

"Goodnight, Califia."

Chapter 9 HERE.

#blackpanther #wakanda #blackboysbloomthornsfirst #njobu #n'jobu #killmonger #erikkillmonger #udaku #tchaka #tchalla #blackpantherfanfic #blackpantherfanfiction #smut #fanfiction #marvel #marvelfanfiction #doramilaje #romance #sexy #blackfanfiction #n'jobu fanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Ursula Ruckers’s Brown Boy

Still working away on my “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” Fanfic. I tend to write by hand and then type later, so I’ve written a lot more stuff....just need to transcribe it.

I’ve been getting some hits on the story over on A03 and FanFic.Net which is awesome. I know people are into the stories of T’Challa and Erik, but there seems to be a few out there who are interested in stories about N’Jobu. There’s so much to write about him, but I’m trying to keep the focus tight.

My goal I would say is to give my take on a complete picture of how Erik came to be the person we saw in the Black Panther movie. And the world prior to his birth is key. I am having fun writing about N’Jobu and Califia (even though we all know from the movie that the Stevens family as a whole ends tragically). 

I won’t be writing any fanfic about Erik during his foster care years. I’m not equipped to handle that weight, especially since I grew up with relatives who took in foster kids and witnessed that life firsthand. I believe there are some other fanfics on here that explore that time, but for me, I’m going to focus on Erik when he finds his father, and then pick up when he goes to MIT pre-Navy/Black Ops, and then go into the aftermath of his Wakanda takeover.

I wanted to share the poem/song that inspired the title of my series. Ursula Rucker’s “Brown Boy”. The lyrics are spot on Erik Stevens. It is the haunting refrain in the back of my mind as I write this series trilogy. Each chapter will more than likely have a quote from a song that gives a feel for what the chapter is about, but “Brown Boy” is the overall big picture mood.

Even in darkness, I always believe there is light and hope around the corner, and despite the fact that “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” covers some heavy things that the Black Panther movie touched upon, I hope to bring some Black joy with my handling of this particular story.

Anyways, here’s Ursula Rucker, the inspiration for “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First”:

#black panther #killmonger #njobu #blackpanther #wakanda #wakandaforever #tchalla #tchaka #califia #ursularucker #brownboy #blackboysbloomthornsfirst #uzumakirebellion #black panther fanfiction #n'jobu #n'jobu fanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

When Sterling K. Brown acts out your N’Jobu Fanfiction Scene by Accident:

https://twitter.com/SterlingKBrown/status/1004087106656845824

#sterlingkbrown #njobu #fanfiction #blackpanther #blackboysbloomthornsfirst #wattpad #wakandaforever #udaku