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Chapter Text

Shuri scrunches her nose. Her eyes are still drowsy with sleep when she bends from the edge of her bed to pick up the last shreds of her favorite thong. The purple lace is ruined and you would have to squint very hard to make out any semblance of floral patterns.

There’s a dull headache that makes her wince, then a sneaky,  knotted arm curls around her waist, pulling her to the flat planes of a broad chest.

"Let me go, you fool", she shrugs before slapping wandering hands away. The rejection is followed by a bright, rumbling laugh that tells her Bucky has been fake sleeping the whole time. She finishes buttoning up while looking over her shoulder, scowling while he offers her a slack, lazy smile, head propped up by her massive pillows, and covers pulled low enough to offer miles and miles of milky skin. 

Shuri wets her mouth and nearly considers throwing her common sense away to sneak beneath the sheets and have a fourth round.

"Leaving so soon ? You're gonna get me sad, love", Bucky says, his tone just the right mix of sultriness and begging. Shuri is not having it though and shakes her head at her house painter. 

James Buchanan Barnes was the neighborhood’s favorite handyman and with the easy camaraderie he offered since her move-in, there was no competition for him when she needed someone to work on her house. With the many hours he spent renovating her home, she couldn’t just ignore him and the longing glances he stole.

Last night, she invited him to stay for dinner, as a way to celebrate the end of his work in her house. After a few glasses of wine, she seduced him. Part of her is feeling very smug at the idea that she still got it, even after being out of the dating market for years.

"You're welcome to take a last mental screenshot of my ass and cry about it", she tosses before standing up, the sentence earning her a loud whistle and a dark chuckle from his part.

Bucky looks her up and down, eyes lingering on her high-waisted, silky pajama shorts. He folds his arms behind his head, needlessly stretching rippling muscles. Shuri arches an eyebrow before turning her back to him and grabbing the phone resting on top of the nightstand.

“You’re talking big for someone who rode me like a maniac last night. I think you got me out of commission, sugar. Aunt May’s bathroom is gonna have to wait”, he drawls before yawning.

Shuri wants to make a snide comment and counter that his mouth is way prettier when it’s put to good use but her fingers slide down the screen of her phone and she picks up her last conversation with her associate, friend and fellow robotics engineer, Riri Williams. She snorts and fires a message to Riri who is complaining about her morning meeting with a competitor specialized in amusement parks. That’s what she deserves for not following Shuri’s advice and flying to Florida in the first place. She could have just made it a conf call.

Shuri’s vindictive smile freezes when she notices three missed calls. From none other than her ex-husband. 

Namor Almehen .

Shuri doesn’t need to open her voicemail because the last text he sent her makes her blood curl.

We’re on our way

We as in “Abha and I”.

Namor and their son are on their way.

Shuri gulps down hard.

They weren’t supposed to be back until tuesday. It’s Namor’s week-end and over the past three years, he has threatened to take her to court multiple times when she was the one who needed to reschedule. In short, he’s fiercely protective of the time he’s allowed to share with their son so it’s unlike him to bring their little boy back so soon.

Her ex-husband and their seven year old baby boy are coming to her house. 

And there’s a very naked white man in her bedroom.

Shit .

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She hurtles down the stairs in panic, Bucky in stride as he struggles to keep the sarong  he borrowed from her neatly tied around his waist.

“Shuri, what’s going on ?”

“You need to put some clothes on”, she screams back at him, and she stops in her tracks when she sees the evidence of their nightly activities all over the living room. 

There’s clothes spread haphazardly about, skeletons of wine bottles and glasses, and dull candles. She scurries to clean up the mess, throwing a wrinkled red henley at Bucky’s face in her haste.

He grunts but still makes the effort to put it on. 

“Is this about your ex ?”, he enquires. 

She’s running to the kitchen with empty glasses and bottles in hands. 

“What’s all this panic about ? I already met him”, he says, searching for her gaze.

“As my handyman”, Shuri retorts, “Not my sneaky link. Look, Bucky, I consented to everything that happened last night but I do not consent to you meeting my son in this kind of circumstance.”

Bucky furrows his brows. “You know I’m not the biggest fan of this expression.”

Shuri rolls her eyes, and she’s about to retort again when they both get startled by the fateful ring of the front door. Her phone pings in the distance right after to signal the arrival too. 

“Shit ”, she curses and hides her face in her hands. 

“If you need me to, I can still go hide upstairs again”, Bucky offers. 

Her fingers spread just so she can peer at him through them. This silly man. 

“Just go to the bathroom”, she says, gesturing in its direction.

Then she tries to come up with all kinds of explanations on the way to the entrance but as a lawyer, Namor is way too perceptive to be manipulated in a lie so instead, Shuri adjusts her dressing gown by tightening its belt, and rearranges her long braids in a makeshift scarf to hide any hickeys.

Ignoring the trickle of mommy guilt she feels, and preparing her best “everything is fine” expression, she finally opens the door.

“Hi”, she says with an overly jaunty tone which seeps with nervousness.

She immediately kneels to give her darling boy a big hug and a forehead kiss, melting into his clean soap smell.

“Hi mama,” Abha says with a toothy grin which makes Shuri melt some more for a second before she finally addresses Namor with a curt nod.

“You guys are already back from the fishing trip”, she says, crossing her arms as she stands back up.

Namor arches a quizzical brow. She scratches her throat before keeping out of the way so they enter her home. He leads the way, and Abha keeps holding his father’s hand real tight.

“We’re out of tylenol and mosquito repellent. It will be quick.”

Of course he will. Namor always keeps his visits to her neighborhood short. The polish of white picket fences, elegant homes and perfectly manicured green lawns is much too caucasian to his liking. 

 “Where do you keep yours ?”

“In the bathroom’s cabinet-”

Namor doesn’t wait for her to finish her sentence. He’s already on his way, Abha in tow. 

The rest of her sentence dies out as she hears a dark, menacing chuckle from her ex-husband.

Shuri curses under her breath, shutting her eyes as if the single effort could pull her out of this very bad fever dream. 

“There’s a giant mosquito in your bathroom too”, Namor says loud and dry. 

Shuri ignores the urge to hide her face in her hands and deliberately juts her chin, keeping her head held high in the face of her ex-husband’s mocking expression. Bucky winces and mouths “sorry” when he emerges from the bathroom right after Namor and Abha. 

She’s the one who feels sorry now. This poor man deserves so much better. And it seems she has scrambled eggs in place of a brain this morning because no witty words are coming out of her mouth to steal her way out of the situation. Still, she has enough decency not to let Bucky go through the walk of shame alone and she draws close to stand near him, although leaving a safe distance between them. 

“That’s Bucky”, Abha says excitedly, looking up at Bucky with adoring eyes, completely oblivious to the awkwardness stilling the three adults in the room, “Baba, Bucky  repaired my bike ! He’s so cool !”

“I didn’t know your bike needed repairing, Paal”, Namor says, tone seeping with ice as his gaze travels from Bucky to her, and Shuri knows she will have an earful about this later.

“Bucky knows how to fix a lot of things”, Abha goes on, and Shuri wishes her darling, very affable son would just stop and shut up. It’s one thing for him to chat up cashiers and homeless men on the street, it’s another when his mother’s one-night stand is involved. 

Bucky laughs nervously under her son’s praise, brushing a thick strand of hair away from his face. The tip of his ears are red, and it’s adorable. Shuri doesn’t have much time to focus on that because Namor clears his throat with purpose.

She sees Namor look Bucky up and down then, his gaze furrowing at the sarong knotted around the other man’s waist, lips curled in disdain.

“Bucky, do you wanna go fishing with us ?” Abha offers, and Shuri fights off a hysterical giggle. 

Bucky throws a cautious glance at Namor who is leveling a no nonsense expression at him, daring him to even think about it. 

“Sorry buddy, there’s plenty of work for me to catch up on today. But you can go fishing with your dad and teach me later, okay ?”

Abha nods like a dutiful boy with such enthusiasm the dark curls on the top of his head bob too but something else flashes across his eyes, and he wouldn’t be his father’s son if he didn’t tilt his head and squint his eyes in suspicion. 

“Bucky, if you have a lot of work, why are you dressed like my mama ? Did you lose your pants ?”

Namor gives a humorless snort. Bucky blinks stupidly. 

Shuri decides to call the entire meeting off right here and then.

“Okay that’s enough . Time for fishing, you bad boys.”

She all but literally pushes Namor and Abha towards the exit, her hands flat on their back. 

Bucky stays behind and pretends to be very interested in the wisteria vines adorning Shuri’s home while she talks to her ex-husband and son on the sidewalk as they are ready to leave, rambling about sunscreens and caps and hydration because it’s late spring and hot enough already. 

“I need to get to know your little boyfriend”, Namor says, cutting her mommy monologue short, windows rolled down so he can keep talking with her from the driver seat of his sleek black Jaguar. 

“No you don’t”, Shuri retorts immediately, fingers gripping the edge of the passenger’s window tight.

“So he’s your boyfriend ?”, he taunts, and Shuri hates, hates that after all these years, this mean man still has the power to seep inside her mind and bend her mood with just an infliction of his tone. 

“ No . We are…not on the road to formalize anything…Yet”, she says way too rapidly.

Namor hums. “So you’re having a hot girl summer as the youngsters say ?”

“ We’re in the middle of may .”

“I don’t care. From the way he looks at you, I know this white man is in my son’s life whether I want it or not. The least I can do is make sure you’re not getting involved with someone who’s gonna have a bad influence on Abha.”

“ You can talk. With all the bimbos you bring to your apartment”, she mutters angrily. 

On a few occasions, Abha has facetimed her by mistake while on weekends with Namor, and Shuri did make out some blonde hair, feminine laughter and luscious curves in the background. She figures the women are different because the height difference compared to Namor’s broad and tall frame has altered each time, same as the shades of blonde ranking from the shade of ears of wheat to silver blonde. 

When Namor smiles like the cat who got the cream, Shuri regrets her words instantly.

“Not like it’s any of my business who you decided to fu - roll in the sheets with anyway…”, she says, peering at her son whose attention is now entirely captivated by a pad of her own design. “Just don’t be hypocritical about it, that’s all”, she says with a final tone. 

“Tell your white boy I’ll pick him up at 8 pm sharp next thursday.”

“Namor, you can’t be serious.”

“This is very serious. Stepparents create a more stressful living environment for kids. I will talk to him man to man and give my verdict.”

“ Stepparents ?”, Shuri croaks, mouth agape at this man’s audacity. She recoils from the car window and crosses her arms, “You’re insane and unhinged and that main character syndrome of yours has to stop .”

“Thursday. 8 pm sharp”, Namor insists, and the windows roll up before Shuri can raise any other objection.

Sick bastard.

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“He wants to take you out or something”, Shuri says angrily, back in the comfort of her house, her hands flat on the marble top of her kitchen island. 

“Yeah I kinda figured that out. He didn’t seem too happy to see me. In fact, if his eyes could shoot, I’d be six feet under”, Bucky replies with a small, wary smile.

“No Bucky, seriously. He wants to take you out next thursday. For a…boys night or something. Said he wanted to get to know you. For Abha’s sake”.

Shuri bites into her lips at that, gauging his reaction. She expects him to leave like any other sane person would but instead, Bucky arches a quizzical brow, intrigued, before closing the distance and sitting on the stool right across her. 

“So it’s more like a job interview.”

He levels a frank and determined gaze at her then, something full of promises and intent. One that makes her heartbeat flutter and her knees go weak. 

Shuri gives a hoarse chuckle. “Only if you actually covet the position.”

“I really do”, he says after giving her a slow and deliberate once over.

She shivers under the attention but is still wary of their very fragile predicament. It's something new, something exciting between the both of them and she does want to protect it.

“Do you ? I have to warn you though. The boss is very demanding. And she has a crazy ex”, Shuri trails, her last comment earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.

She makes no move when he gets out of the stool and makes his way towards her, thick and sturdy hands with fingers calloused by years of handiwork circling her small waist entirely. 

Bucky smells like clean sweat, warm and earthy. Nothing like Namor’s expensive cologne which earned him the nicknames of GQ commercial and Bleu de Chanel from Riri. 

“Fine by me. I like a little challenge” , he says, wiggling his brows to make her laugh before bending down to press a hot kiss on her mouth.

Shuri’s hands move up to knot around his thick neck then, and her fingers eagerly dig in his unruly brown waves as Bucky drinks from her mouth.

She loves the quiet intensity of him, stopping the kiss only to come up for air. Her small hands lay on his thick chest to keep some minimal distance between them. To make sure the gears in her brain are working still and not rusted by the influx of happy hormones. 

“Just so you know, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Namor is…a whole lot. But he’s a good father and he’s fiercely protective of our son”, she explains, mentally chiding herself for how easy she sounds on her ex-husband. 

Bucky smiles, giving her another kiss before touching her forehead with his.

“I get it. He’s a dad and I respect him for taking the lead. Besides, I wanna know more about your history too. I’m sure he has plenty of stories to tell about you”, Bucky quips. 

Shuri’s fond smile immediately disappears from her face then.

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Four days later, Namor’s black jaguar is parked at the curb right in front of her house, just like he promised. 

“Your ride is here”, Shuri says grimly, watching intently through the kitchen’s window as Namor has the decency to get out of his car. 

It’s surprisingly chilly tonight so Namor’s black turtleneck paired with gray dress pants is not out of sorts. His hair is slicked back, as if he just came straight out of the shower, and he’s wearing one of his signature jewel pieces : a gold chain with a circle jade pendant adorned with  two golden serpents on either side of the piece. 

Everything about his outfit screams “I’m better than you”. Shuri knows for certain her ex-husband is a smooth motherfucker right then. It almost makes her feel ungainly with how laid-back her own outfit is : a simple black crop top with short jeans, comfy flip-flops and bronze and black braids thrown into a huge pineapple sized bun atop of her head.

She’s been trying to guess where Namor would take Bucky for his stepdaddy interview since his forceful invitation but her ex-husband wouldn't budge. She wonders if she did make a mistake by telling Bucky to go for his usual casual style, navy blue henley and dark jeans and an effortless man bun with an elastic band he borrowed from her. At least, he has that one nice pair of leather derby shoes on. 

“It’s not fair. I wanna go too !” Abha complains for the ninth time that evening. 

Shuri clicks her tongue at her son. “Hey, you stop that ! You’ve been begging for a movie night and cereal dinner for ages.”

It’s the least nutritious dinner she ever envisioned to have with her son but Shuri was not in the mood to cook today. She’s as nervous as a teenage girl before a first date with her crush which is ironic since she’s not even the one who’s being taken out. 

“If this one goes well, maybe we can all go bowling together sometime soon”, Bucky offers earnestly to pacify Abha. 

Shuri thinks it will snow in hell first but before she can reply and temper expectations, the doorbell rings. She’s not in the mood to be civil so she opens the lock on her security app with a quick brush of her thumb.

“James ”, Namor says, giving a curt nod at the sight of Bucky who replies with an affable smile and nod of his own.

Abha runs to him and Namor bends to pick him up with an aggravated sigh at how big their little boy is getting. It’s taken some time for Shuri to be able to see them like this without feeling any twinge of pain at the idea of depriving their son of a stable, daily family unit. They mirror each other in so many ways from their golden, hazelnut skin tone to the original pointiness of their ears and their dark hair. 

Shuri must have missed something then because they’re all looking at her with intrigued eyes. 

“What ? Is something on my face ?”

“Nah. You look beautiful as always”, Bucky says. 

Shuri doesn’t miss the way Namor stills and grounds his jaw at Bucky’s comment, looking far into the distance, anywhere but at her actually.

“Mama always looks pretty”, Abha says.

That’s when Namor finally looks at her. Shuri can’t quite decipher what’s on his mind but his gaze pins her like a microscope, and she doesn’t quite like it. 

She releases a shaky breath before clapping her hands. 

“So ! Let’s talk little but let’s talk well. Where are you guys going, Namor ?”

Namor blinks slowly at her before replying.

“Talokan.”

Her heart misses a beat right then, and she struggles to swallow under the weight of the memories. Talokan . The Mayan fusion bar and restaurant which was founded to honor his mother’s memory and his indigenous roots. Shuri can almost picture the coziness of  rich yellows and greens, hand painted murals and the golden glow of the giant sun mirror that stood in the main dining room.

Talokan is where Namor brought her for their first date. Shuri doesn’t know how to feel about Namor bringing Bucky there, of all people. Her hand naturally comes to fiddle with her own golden necklace. 

She steadies only when Bucky’s broad palm finds her shoulder and squeezes gently.

“Are you okay, sugar ?”

She nods once. “Yeah, I’m alright. Talokan is a really cool place. I’m sure you’ll love it. Just go easy on the sea food.”

Namor rolls his eyes in the background. 

Shuri squeezes Abhas’s hand more to reassure herself than for her son’s sake as they watch both men take seat inside Namor’s slender car. 

Chapter Text

They’re late. It’s half past midnight and they were supposed to be there one hour ago. This entire rendez-vous was just supposed to be a mere informal meeting between an ex-husband and father and the potential new boyfriend. 

What could take them so long ? And why does Namor feel the need to know about Bucky’s intentions so much ? That snake is just trying to control my life , Shuri muses, gnashing her teeth in frustration, arms crossed tight and her leg keeps bouncing up and down while she’s sitting in a woven chair on her front porch, bathed in the light coming from twin wall lanterns. Abha is already asleep upstairs, in a room renovated by Buck’s tender and professional care, and enhanced by a brand new hand painted mural of a whale by Namor himself. 

She practically springs from the chair when she hears the tell-tale rumble of Namor’s car, refraining to run to them and demand how the first meeting actually went. If Shuri spent half the time they were gone mopping on the porch about endless scenarios, they don’t need to know. 

Both men come out of the Jaguar with satisfied smiles. She even sees Bucky mumble something to Namor after taking a quick glance at her, and the older man actually smiles .  

As they close the distance, Shuri is relieved to find no sign of harm on Bucky’s face. In fact, the only thing that changed is his long hair is now loose on his shoulders, and there’s a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks quite relaxed which is suspicious since he just spent more than three hours in Namor's company.

“You look like you just bit a lemon, woman. Lighten up. ”, Namor gruffs without sparing her a glance, fingers already strumming at his motorola. Shuri doesn’t understand how he gets anything done with that ancient relic. She also ignores his comment, and draws closer to Bucky, searching for his eyes. Her shoulders finally release some tension when she sees a twinkle of mischief there. 

“You okay ?”

Bucky gives a conniving smile to Namor, who is shaking his head no,  then looks back to her, his arm coming to hold onto her waist and squeezing gently to ease her worries. 

“I’m alright, sugar. Everything went well.”

He says something about a bum bag and needing a quick bathroom break  then, leaving her alone on the porch with Namor.

“Sugar ?” Namor repeats, still typing idly on his keyboard.

Shuri wonders if he’s chatting with one of his blonde friends right now. Not that she even cares. It’s just so hypocritical of him to run his mouth about caucasian audacity when he’s actually fucking white women on the downlow. He has no leg to stand on when it comes to her boyfriend.

Or should she even say that word ? It sounded silly and childish when Namor said it hours ago. She’s already 32 for Bast’s sake. Way past boyfriend trouble. 

“I take it The Serpent has an opinion. I don’t wanna hear it though.” 

A smile creeps up on Namor’s lips at the mention of his nickname. The one his lawyer colleagues and rivals alike use for him with how ruthless and cunning he’s capable of being.

“See ? I didn’t break your white boy. You can still keep playing with him”, Namor tells her once Bucky is far from hearing distance. 

Shuri swats off his comment as if it were an annoying fly.

“What did you guys do all this time ?”

“We talked a lot.”

Shuri freezes. “Is that all ?”

Namor finally looks up from his phone, and mirrors her stance, crossing his arms. 

“What ? Did you actually expect me to roughhouse him in a street corner for you ?”

Shuri blushes furiously at the suggestion, and pretends it doesn’t do anything to her to think about two handsome men fighting for the honor to be with her. 

Namor was her first and for the longest time, Shuri looked at him as if he were the measure of beauty amongst men. She used to chalk that admiration up to their age difference, but years later, with thin streaks of gray in his goatee and longer hair that shows off his thick dark waves, he looks even more unholy and dangerous. 

The divorce has been hard on her self esteem, although she was the one who initiated it, and she used to think that one relationship would be her last. Now, it does wonders for her ego to have a beautiful man like Bucky Barnes be so interested in her that he’s willing to go through the seven circles of hell for them to be able to explore something. Though it’s both exhilarating and terrifying as it gives her something else to potentially grieve about in the future. 

“Of course not. I just hope you didn’t run your mouth about us and why we divorced”, she grumbles, meeting Namor’s hardened gaze right on. 

The truth will have to come out eventually but Shuri isn’t ready just yet. She wants to keep that lighthearted aura around Bucky as long as possible. She doesn’t want him to know about the monster within. And she’s not talking about Namor.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll let you explain all that to your boyfriend in your own time. If you even dare ”, he says, and the ominous tone coloring his rasp is quite equivocal. 

Shuri bristles at the bite of the night air.  Their staring match is only interrupted by the loud ringing of Namor’s phone. He holds his finger up, and takes a few steps away for privacy. From whatever she can catch from the conversation, and how much sweet talking Namor is immediately putting on, Shuri easily guesses he’s talking to a woman.  

“Sue, don’t be like that…I rescheduled at the last minute because I got a lot of things going on. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, Itzia, I promise ”, he says like the beautiful liar he is, his tone full of illicit promises.

Shuri rolls her eyes so hard they could get stuck inside her brain, and she deliberately ignores the sharp sting that comes with Namor calling another woman princess in his native tongue. It used to be their thing. Her ex is still apologizing to whomever when Bucky comes out the house to take his leave. 

Shuri watches Bucky’s red pick up truck travel down the lane until it becomes a tiny point into the distance. 

“So, what’s your verdict ?” She asks Namor as she hugs herself, putting on a nonchalant tone though deep down, it’s actually important to her for him to appreciate Bucky’s presence in her life, however long that presence may be. They’re co parenting their son after all. And she does trust his judgment. Part of his job is actually analyzing people and their motivations. 

Namor gives her a slow once over that makes her shift on her toes before meeting her eyes, and giving her that signature shark grin of his.

“I’ll allow it. For the time being.”

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Things do start to get weird after Namor and Bucky’s mysterious buddy night. While Shuri expected both men to stare at each other like hound dogs and keep their distance for the reminder of her relationship with Bucky, nothing of the sort happens. To everyone’s surprise, her ex and her new boyfriend are even surprisingly cordial. Friendly even. So friendly that Bucky naturally tells her less than two weeks later that thanks to one of Namor’s clients, he has two free tickets to see a baseball match between the Vermont Lake Monsters and the Nashua Silver Knights team. And of course, both Namor and Bucky are rooting for the Vermont Lake Monsters. 

Shuri freezes at the news of another buddy date, and she’s lucky that Bucky comes to her with a spoonful of solyanka soup to taste because at least it keeps her mouth busy. She swallows slowly, enjoying the smoothness of the beeth broth paired with the sourness of the pickles and for the moment, the only sounds in the room come from the TV screen where Abha is filling a coloring on the rug while a paw patrol rerun is in the background, and the slow rumble of the solyanka on the stove. 

“That good ?”

“Yeah it’s …perfect.”

Bucky keeps busying himself around her kitchen and Shuri tries to analyze how she feels about the whole situation. Surely, she should be happy that her ex and her boyfriend are getting along so well, something she would have never dreamed about with how possessive Namor actually is,  but still, something's not quite right. 

Namor has to have an ulterior motive. That’s just how it is with him. He’s cunning and manipulative like that. Still, Shuri doesn’t get how it benefits him to become friends with Bucky at the moment. So she braces herself for the ridiculous demands that will soon bloom into her lap. 

“Bucky…Namor is not pressuring you to meet up with him, right ?”

Bucky keeps opening drawers until he finds what he was searching for : a large bowl to put soup into.

“Of course not. We’ve just been…bonding”, he shrugs.

Shuri swallows a horrified expression at the statement.

Bonding ?

“Just a guesstimation. He’s not offering you money to tag along either ?”

Bucky chuckles. “Nope. Though I could use some gas money. My last two clients are not good payers.”

“You know I could-”

“Shuri, I’m just joking, relax. And I don’t know much about your relationship with your ex by the way, he’s as mysterious about it as you are. And we kinda made a pact.”

“ What pact ?” Shuri asks, tightening her brows in annoyance. 

“Now that’s a secret. It’s a man to man oath ”, Bucky says before giving her a playful wink. 

Shuri grumbles a little more before finally letting go. 

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It’s when she receives a gorgeous, large bouquet of pink proteas delivered at her office, her favorites, that Shuri’s suspicions start to grow stronger. The large bloom of it is covered in neat brown kraft, and her eyes greedily take in salmon pink and pops of roses interspersed by rich green leaves and stems. It comes with a powder pink card bordered with gold and signed by Bucky’s handwriting. 

It’s perfect. Only problem is that she never told Bucky about her favorite flowers. And she now has a fat hunch about who exactly ran their mouth to him about that. Shuri angrily huffs at the idea, making a mental note to have a word with Namor about this. 

Shuri texts her boyfriend a thank you message still, although it’s probably drier than the Sahara compared to his effort. 

She’s still staring hard at her phone, hands clasped on her belly as she lounges in her chair, and her train of thoughts is interrupted by Riri’s voice. 

“Damn . You got a secret admirer ? Or is it Cologne Commercial apologizing about something again ?”

“Neither of those options. They come from my…boyfriend”, Shuri slowly says, and it sounds so juvenile and hesitant to her own ears. 

“If they come from your boyfriend, why do you look so distressed ?”

Riri hands her a folder of documents to sign before waiting for her answer. Shuri’s eyes quickly scan over the files, multiple partnership agreements with outreach centers across the country, and the promise of focusing on inner city youth and enrolling girls in the  STEM field with a mentorship program. 

She’s focused on a paragraph referencing the giveaway of 3D pens just as Riri sits on the curved edge of her desk. 

“You like proteas. And your boyfriend bought you proteas.”

“I love them .”

“Then why do you look like someone who just entered a public bathroom after someone took a smelling shit ?”

“Sometimes, I should tape you so you actually have to listen to whatever it is you say”, Shuri admonishes without any bite. 

“Seriously Shuri, if a man ever brought me my favorite flowers, I would fold like a goddamn pretzel. What are you even doing here ? Go get your man .”

“Trust me, I will. And I’m not mad about the flowers, just the means of him getting that information.”

“Why ?”

Shuri’s deadpan look is equivocal enough for her business partner and friend to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh hell no .”

Shuri nods, finalizing a few more signatures before shutting the folder. 

“Please say it ain’t so. This sounds like some supervillain shit . You think he’s trying to seduce your new boyfriend into being buddies to still keep access to you ?”

Shuri shrugs. “Namor is a snake. Anything and everything is possible for him. I just don’t get how that benefits him at all.”

She bites her lip at the thought of that missing puzzle piece in her ex-husband’s odd behavior then. 

---------------------

It's fifteen minutes into her lunch break that Abha’s private school blows up her phone. The school secretary mumbles something about an emergency in the voicemail, and the immediate need for both parents to meet the School's Principal. Duty calls so Shuri doesn’t hesitate once to reschedule the meetings she was supposed to hold in the afternoon, even one with Stark Industries which representatives have been begging for a call to discuss their sunbird’s prototype. 

Namor's car is already in the parking lot when she arrives and without thinking, Shuri parks next to him, realizing they’re bound to keep interacting with each other well after the meeting is finished only when she’s already passing through the school’s security gate. 

They've already been there at the start of the school year, when their mischievous son got the grand idea of starting a magic potion ring on school grounds and having two of his classmates drink soap and water. Luckily for them, a fat cheque from Namor shut wounded parents all the way up, and his cunning charm got their boy out of the situation with a fair warning. 

Shuri dreads whatever the hell is coming at them this time. Her heels meet the floor in decisive clicks, and she takes off her sunglasses when she makes out Abha’s slim figure in the distance. The sight of her darling boy with his head held down in the hallway that serves as a waiting room tugs at her heartstrings. She quickly brushes the curls at the top of his head in réassurance before engulfing herself inside the Principal's Room. 

Namor is already there, decked in all black, sitting like a bored God who’s been taken away from his affairs only to entertain mere mortals. One of his legs is draped over the other and his chin is resting in the palm of his hand. 

“Principal Ross”, Shuri says with a respectful nod. 

“Miss Udaku. Please take a seat.”

“Now the entire party is here, can you please tell me why you pulled us out of work ? Our son looks just fine”, Namor growls the minute Shuri sits in the twin chair next to him.

“Mister Almehen, like I already said, the emergency is not of a physical nature when it comes to your son. There’s been a few teachers' reports and an incident in Mrs De Fontaine's class today that needs our full attention.” 

“What incident ?” Shuri asks on the spot. 

Principal Ross levels a concerned gaze at her ex-husband before looking at her. 

“Your son insulted her this morning. He said she was a colonizer in the middle of a bilingual history class about the Discovery of America and European explorers.”

A very loud and dark rumbling chuckle can be heard from Namor’s side. Shuri shoots a mean glare at him. He doesn’t stop though, laughing still trailing for a few more seconds before he schools his features into a more neutral expression. His eyes are burning with rebellion still as he speaks.

“I’m sorry to hear that your french teacher is still spoon feeding that Disneyland of nonsense to an entire class of kids.  The Discovery of America, really ? You’re lucky my son didn’t call her out for the genocidal supporter she really is. Chaac ,  I can’t believe you pulled me out of work for this bu-”

“Namor ”, Shuri warns before trying to give a tight-lipped smile to Principal Ross for the sake of peace. She also knows how much her son loves that school, and she is not about to let Namor ruin it for him because of his massive ego.

Principal Ross shakes his head then.

“It's not just that, Mister Almehen. Abha is a bright child for sure. But he's proven to disrupt lessons multiple times by asking countless questions, which are often way out of the school curriculum.”

Now it’s Shuri’s turn to be offended. Namor tilts his head at her, watching her intently as simmering anger comes to the surface and her voice too gets dangerously low. 

“Teachers are complaining about a student asking questions in class…? Which class are we even talking about ?”

“Well, the greatest offenses have occured in Mr Johnson’s mathematics class and Mrs Anderson’s biology class.”

Shuri holds her breath before letting out a shaky exhale in irritation. Just like her, Abha has a natural passion for science. The whole point of getting him into a private school with an expensive bill of 8900 dollars per year was for him to integrate smaller classes where he would not feel out of place or bullied for being a nerd.

She is not about to have another school administration snuff out Abha’s eagerness to learn. 

“Is the problem really coming from my son asking questions or from your teachers not having any satisfying answer to his curiosity ?”

“Shuri …”, Namor trails in a mock offended tone but she doesn’t need to turn to him to notice how much he's actually enjoying the moment. 

Principal Ross inhales a sharp breath before clearing his throat.

“Perhaps we could look into special accommodations for your son. Maybe even an IQ test. Abha may have high intellectual potential or he could possibly be on the spectrum.”

Namor instantly turns to meet Shuri’s gaze and both ex-spouses exchange a silent agreement. 

Do you want me to get him ? , Namor says with a subtle arch of his brow. 

No. Allow me , Shuri answers with a curt nod. 

---------------------

“Told you it was a bad idea to put our son in a school ruled by those people”, Namor gruffs as they both walk back to their cars. 

“Those people are our people in the tax bracket sense”, Shuri quickly replies before putting on her sunglasses again. Then she rummages her bag for her Fisker Ocean’s key card. Her SUV is something metallic blue and 100% electric which also recharges thanks to the solar panels on its roof. 

Namor gently opens the driver seat’s door for her at the tell tale sound of the lights. He leans on her car then, watching intently as Shuri settles and adjusts her seat belt.

“You know, it’s been a surprisingly fun appointment. I’m glad to know you still have that fire in you, Pantera . For a moment, I even thought you would burn the place”, Namor says, eyes half-lidded, and if Shuri didn’t know any better, she’d actually think her ex-husband is flirting. At her . 

“You still have the weirdest kinks”, she says with a humorless snort, “Does your girlfriend know about those ?”

Namor blinks then bends to lean closer, elbows resting on the edge of her car window, rippling muscles stretching the material of his suit vest. Shuri wonders then if Namor purposely dresses just a size under to make all his clothes fit him so closely. Or maybe he’s just as faithful to his swimming and running routine as he was during their marriage.

“What about her ?”

Shuri shrugs. “It’s only fair that I get to pick apart your dating life just as you do mine.”

“Ah.”

“And I know you told Bucky about my favorite flowers.”

“You’re welcome.”

“ I wasn’t thanking you, you arrogant slob . I was the one who was supposed to share this information with him.”

Namor clicks his tongue in exasperation then. 

“What does your girlfriend do for a living by the way ?” Shuri asks, fingers strumming the sleek black and purple leather of her steering wheel, feigning to be mildly interested while she’s dying to know more. 

She’s waiting for answers like “yoga instructor” or “lingerie model” but Namor is quick to answer with something like pride in his voice, effectively shutting her up for a solid few seconds. 

“Sue is a doctor”, he says, eyes looking down just so as they get lost in a fond and reverent expression. 

Shuri grips the wheel slightly tighter at that. Namor is dating a doctor. Someone who’s chosen taking care of others and saving lives as a career. The bad, petty part of her wishes  that the other woman picked this career field for monetary purposes only. 

“Oh.  That’s quite…practical”, Shuri says, darting her eyes to the switched off light poles lining the parking lot.

“Indeed. It’s quite practical to be able to have physical checkups at home.”

Shuri rolls her eyes at the comment. “TMI”, she says, finally pressing her car key in the slot dedicated for this purpose and pushing on the start button to get the car going. 

“Come on, Pantera . It’s not like you had the worst pick with your white boy. You got yourself a handyman with plenty of practical skills. What is he up to today by the way ?”

“He’s unblocking a lady’s siphon”, Shuri says, stilling at the awkward silence that comes after her comment.

She presses another button to roll her window up and puts her foot to the pedal to go far away from Namor’s abrasive laughter. 

---------------------

This is what playdates are for , Shuri relishes days later, lost in the haze of a saturday afternoon delight, head thrown back against the pillows at a very thorough roll of Bucky’s hips. His slow, deep strokes are to die for, and she will happily say yes to whatever he has in mind if he keeps treating her this right. 

Bucky kisses the inside of her ankle and Shuri almost purrs which makes him let out a smug chuckle in return. He has her folded like a damn pretzel, once again, playing with the limitations of her flexibility, just like he likes. And just like she loves.

“Eyes on me, Shuri. This is what you wanted, huh ?”, he growls after biting at her lips, hitting her deep deep deep, stabbing her G spot with menacing accuracy even, and Shuri finds herself at the threshold of her climax in an embarrassingly quick amount of time. 

There . She’s almost there . 

“Ye-Yes . Fuck. Yes, that’s what I want …”, she whines, her tight fists doing their best to keep her legs spread and wide open for Bucky’s aggression on her senses, brain deliriously empty save for the echo of the loud squelch that resonates whenever skin meets skin. All she can decipher is the salt of his clean sweat, his smell and the hard glistening panes of his broad, alabaster frame as he spreads her pussy open.

“You want your me to give it to you ”, Bucky teases, planting another hot open mouthed kiss on her mouth before leaning away. 

He takes hold of her small, perky breasts then. He kneads and rolls small dark buds in between his big fingers, slowing his thrusts before suddenly stopping all movement. 

Shuri swears she could cry at this moment. In fact, she might already be crying with how damp her eyes feel.

“Shuri. Look at us… ”, he orders.

She finally forces her eyes open and lets out a hoarse cry at the sight of his thick girth glistening with her wetness, a ring of white cream at the base of him. 

“Is this you …?”, she breathes, wondering if he already came and now just keeps on going for her pleasure, her small hands reaching to touch at one thick, sticky soft glob of white. 

Bucky shudders at her bold gesture but still chuckles and kneads her breasts even harder. Shuri knows they will be sore after all that attention. 

“No, my love. This is all you”, he whispers, “ All for me, Shuri … All for Daddy .”

He suddenly gives another deep, hard thrust that almost snatches her soul. Shuri’s hands flail to take anchor on the thick cord of his muscles. 

“You’re gonna make me a daddy, huh ?”, he rasps, breathing turning ragged at the effort, “Say you’re gonna make me a daddy, Shuri. Say you love Daddy’s dick. Say it.”

The earnest desperation in his voice is so damn hot, and Shuri forces the words out with every fiber of her being, hips moving out of their own will to fuck back at her lover, and he rewards her with a deep groan.

“I love -... Shit . Right there, right there ! I lo-love… I love Daddy’ s… ughn ”

The rest of her sentence is drowned out by the powerful orgasm that beckons her. Her body arches off the couch, her throat freezing in a dull cry, and  Bucky seizes the occasion to suckle at her tits while his hips keep pistoning in and out of her tight snatch. 

Shuri rides the waves until her toes stop curling. Bucky is not done with her though and her pliant body is still going through tremors when he turns her around, thick hands encircling her tight waist in a belt of skin, thick veins and calloused fingers.

Bucky slides home again. Shuri has to fist the sheets to anchor herself. 

She can only blink through a fresh wave of tears yet she begs him not to stop. 

"Whose is it ?” he asks darkly, and she wonders where that meanness of his is coming from even as she relishes in it, the warmth of him blooming inside her, her head buzzing, a flush creeping up her face at the dirty talk. 

Sex with Bucky is always intense and passionate but something feels different this time. Like he’s allowing himself to be nasty and disrespectful. 

A loud smack echoes in her bedroom then there’s a sharp sting on her ass. 

“Yours ”, she says with a voice hoarse from desire. 

---------------------

Shuri plays idly with the neatly trimmed hair on Bucky’s broad chest, after their intense lovemaking session. She’s practically purring, and Bucky keeps drinking from her mouth when she looks up to peer at him with a playful, half-lidded gaze.

After another kiss, he intertwines one hand with hers, letting the knot of if rest on his chest right above the steady beating of his heart. 

“That was definitely something else”, Shuri says with a dream-like tone.

Bucky hums. “You enjoyed it ?”

Shuri nods vigorously. Her earnest enthusiasm makes him fold in laughter and hug her even tighter if it’s possible. “Then I’ll do it again”, he drawls.

“Yes daddy ”, she teases.

His whole face flushes at that and he darts his eyes to her walk-in closet. 

“Don’t get shy with me now, Barnes. Your secret identity is out. You’re a slut ”, Shuri insists, guffawing in laughter when Bucky suddenly rolls them over and settles in between her thighs once again. 

Somehow, he has both of her wrists pinned over her head with just one thick hand of his. That’s hot as hell , and now Shuri is the one to flush under his attention, eyelashes fluttering as his warm breath fans over her face, and his soft mouth lands to suck another hickey at her tender throat.

“You owe me an apology, princess. ”

And just like that, Shuri’s eyes shoot wide open.

“Wh-What did you just say ?”

Bucky slightly furrows his brows. 

“Princess ?”

Shuri shakes her head, sliding a hand to push at Bucky’s torso. “That’s not how you usually call me.”

“What’s wrong with it ? I thought you liked being called princess in bed.”

“Says who ?”

Bucky has a slight hesitation before opening his mouth for a reply. It’s enough for her to scramble away from him and out the bed.

“Shuri-”

“Out ”, she snarls.

“Look, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“I said OUT. ”

Shuri is practically seething with anger, and she angrily grabs her dressing gown hanging on the back of a chair. Bucky watches as she puts it on and closes it, effectively signaling the end to their afternoon delight. 

He exhales a tired sigh before picking up his clothes and stops at her level to search for her gaze. 

“I’m sorry”, he says. 

Shuri refuses any eye contact.

Chapter Text

“Miss Shuri, you can’t go into his office right now, he will have my head for this !” America hisses, dark waves bouncing as she jogs after Shuri, who is walking down the hall of Namor’s office with murder in mind. 

They pass through a line of work stations interspersed with two private cabins which serve to hold more confidential meetings. Shuri notices the closer she gets to Namor’s office at the far end of hall, the more conversations hush, and hands that were strumming quickly on keyboards even slow down their rhythm. 

Shuri even catches a woman whispering “ I’ll call you back ” to whomever when she passes by. 

It wouldn’t be the first time Shuri and her ex would put on a show for his colleagues. A show where no one but the couple used to do the clapping and sometimes, delicate lace would peek out of Namor’s pockets long after she was gone. But that was ages ago and practically history now.

Shuri hopes they’re all ready for the very different type of show she’s gonna put on today. 

As a senior lawyer and firm partner, Namor’s master cabin is located far from the hubbub of the reception area and conveniently close to a conference room. America Chavez manages to slither in between Shuri and the heavy door to Namor’s office just as she readies to storm inside. 

“ Please ”, she begs, “I’m just starting as a paralegal here and I’m too broke to move. Namor told me not to let anyone in unless there’s an emergency.”

Shuri inhales sharply to keep a leash on her anger lest it bites anyone else other than the main culprit. 

“America, this is an emergency. Trust me, if my ex-husband is stupid enough to fire you over this, I’ll handle your rent for the next six months and take him to court myself. Now move or you will be moved ”, Shuri threatens and she’s only slightly guilty when the younger woman takes a step aside. 

Shuri doesn’t bother knocking and closes the door right after her with a loud bang. The sound makes him perk and arch a brow as he’s sitting all comfortable in his high-back chair, absently rolling a pen in between his fingers.

Namor seems surprised by her abrupt entrance yet intrigued. There’s an open laptop in front of him, and a male, nasal voice is coming out of its speakers, rambling about not wanting to pay alimony and threatening to call ICE on his Russian ex-wife.

Shuri has no qualm about ending the call by closing the computer. 

“ We need to talk ”, she says with a clipped tone. 

Namor gives a long suffering sigh. “I’m gonna let that one slide because this man is an asshole and I’d rather clean my own penthouse with a q-tip than listen to him rant for another half an hour.”

“If he’s a piece of shit, why are you entertaining him ? He just threatened to get his wife deported .”

“He pays me well. And who am I to stop white on white crime ?”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “I’m not here to have another political debate.” 

“To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit then ?”

“Cut the act, Namor. I know what you’ve been up to”, Shuri hisses, furiously throwing her bag in one the twin chairs lined across his desk. 

“Care to enlighten me, Princess ?”

“You know what you did ! With Bucky .”

A semblance of realization dawns on his stupidly handsome face then he has the nerve to break a smile. 

“So he did follow my advice”, he says with something like pride, except he sounds more like someone who’s satisfied with their dog performing a new trick or something. It’s a needle which pricks into Shuri’s already fragile nerves and she fights off the urge to land a swat at him. 

The last thing she needs is to catch a case. 

“Why would you need to give my boyfriend any advice on anything ? I don’t want him to be more like you. There’s already enough of you in the world.”

Something about her sentence seems to land just right because Namor oozes irritation then, springing from his chair to round the thick oak of his desk. He towers over her smaller frame as he looks down the line of his nose at her. And there goes again the musky aroma of his cologne filling her nostrils. 

“It seems I might have indulged in one too many drinks last time I saw him. And I shared more than I should have”, he groans.

This is as close to a Namor Almehen apology as it gets. But Shuri will not have it this time. She wants to see that man grovel . Just like Bucky did on the phone after Shuri kicked him out the house. 

“So that’s your excuse ? You had too much to drink and then what ? How would you feel if I ran to your girlfriend and said you like getting your toes sucked ?”

“ Wha -I never entertained such things !” Namor growls.

“It doesn’t matter. The point is you need to stop meddling in my personal life like you’re some expert on it. It’s one thing for you to cozy up to Bucky for our son’s sake, but you guys don’t need to talk about me. ”

Namor shrugs. “Shuri, we spent almost a decade together. I would have been a very bad husband if I didn't learn a thing or two about you.”

“Well now you’re very welcome to delete any Shuri files from your hard drive that don't concern Abha.”

Namor recoils as if stung. The darkest part of her loves it.

“Now why would I do that ? I don’t regret marrying you. I never will”, he says earnestly. 

It makes Shuri stand very still. 

“ I hate you ”, she finally says, ignoring the way her heartbeat picks up speed and the faint tremor in her hands. Without looking at him, she decides to pick her bag up, and turns around to leave his office. 

“You know what they say, Shuri. There’s a thin line between love and hate”, Namor says with a hint of danger just as her hand finds the door handle.

Shuri stops in her tracks and whips her head to look at him. 

“ Are you mad ?”

“I’m not. But perhaps you are because your new man doesn’t fulfill all your needs. I know how insatiable you can get, Pantera .”

Shuri blushes hard and thanks the cocoa shade of her skin. Only the tips of her crimson ears betray her inner turmoil.

“You’re delusional if you really think that. I’ll let you know James is more than good in bed. He’s great even ”, she splutters, gripping the door handle tighter. 

Namor hums. “Does this mean he eats the groceries like I used to ?”

Shuri thinks right then that she’s so lucky that she doesn’t have any document in hand because surely, it would have landed on the floor at best and right at Namor’s head at worst. For a split second, she even considers grabbing onto the rosewood crocodile that sits on the central shelf of the library that lines the wall. 

“ Do you have no decorum …?”, she hisses like a cat, “Half of your colleagues are listening right now !”

“Just a half ? You’re being way too generous with these busy bodies”, Namor says.

And just like that, her ex-husband places his huge hand on hers and pushes her to open the door. Shuri follows the movement despite herself and swallows a very specific insult when she realizes there’s quite the crowd in the hallway and beyond. There’s even a curly head peering from a doorway that disappears the moment Namor steps into the light. 

Namor clears his throat, indicating his displeasure, and this is a sufficient signal for business to resume. 

-------------------------------------

Only two figures are still standing in the long hall with them after everyone has dispersed.

Shuri recognizes America but she can’t quite place where she’s already seen the young man standing tall next to her. He’s taller than Shuri with a lean and athletic build. He has warm brown skin and eyes, and a full head of hair which is stylishly tapered on the sides.

The young man smiles sheepishly at her, hiding his hands in his pockets even as he timidly approaches them.

“Hello, Mrs Almehen ”, he smiles.

America winces in the background, muttering something about idiot boys. Namor gently knocks on the side of the boy’s head then. 

“Told you Shuri is not Mrs Almehen anymore, juum .”

“Oh shit, sorry Ma’am ! It’s just a force of habit.”

Realization finally dawns on Shuri’s face then. “Is that… Miles ?”

The young man nods enthusiastically. Shuri doesn’t hesitate before giving him a hug, not quite believing the sight of him after all these years. He was only a boy years ago when Namor and her were a young couple living on the same apartment block as his parents and he’s all grown now. Shuri keeps fond memories of that little boy who was always running into trouble trying to climb any and everything. In hindsight, he was the one who probably gave her baby fever. 

“Oh my God ! Namor, why didn’t you tell me Miles was working for you all this time ?”, Shuri says excitedly.

“I’m just an intern yet…”, Miles says with a little chagrined tone.

She exchanges a gaze with her ex-husband. The wariness in them makes her freeze, and for once, Namor is the one to avert his gaze somewhere else.

Shuri’s mind reconnects with the memories of that fateful evening right then.

The two of them driving along a city street lined with twinkling lights on their first date night as a couple after a long time. A lively conversation filling the cabin about which one of them was their toddler’s favorite parent, and Namor made her promise to make him a girl dad someday.

Then the sudden sound of screeching tires, and the sound of metal crashing as another car careened into theirs from the side.

Officer Jefferson Davis, Miles’s father, was the first responder at the scene.  

“Miss Shuri ?”, Miles says with an inquisitive tone, searching for her gaze.

Shuri then realizes she just gripped him a little too tight for comfort. She releases him instantly, blinking away the bad memories. She holds on tight to her bag then.

Namor gives another inquisitive stare before breaking the tension.

“Miles, go fetch Shuri some water with electrolytes. America, keep conducting research on the Barton case. I’ll let you conduct their son’s interview tomorrow”, he says in an assertive tone which leaves no place for argument.

-------------------------------------

“ Thank you ”, Shuri tells Miles as she takes the water bottle he offers her. 

“You’re welcome”, he smiles though his eyes bear signs of both worry and curiosity. 

They’re both seated on a comfortable leather couch in the reception era where something mellow and instrumental is playing in the background.

“Namor isn’t too hard on you, is he ?” she offers.

She can tell from the way Miles’s eyes shoot up his hairline before he darts his eyes at some plants that her ex is in fact hard on everybody in this office. But he does reward them well in both money and friendly afterworks. He even gifted a car once.

“He’s as demanding with me as any other employee”, Miles confesses, “It’s actually great. I’m glad to be learning from the best. Even if it means I won’t get any vacation this summer …”

Shuri giggles at his crestfallen expression then takes a swig of her water.  

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to have fun regardless”, she says, playfully bumping his shoulder with hers.

Some joy sparks on the young man’s face then. “It’s my father’s birthday party this weekend ! Why don’t you come ?”

It makes Shuri blink a little stupidly. Jefferson Davis has seen her at her worst. She feels a tad self-conscious at the idea of seeing him again. 

“Your son can come too ! I have plenty of badass cousins who will run around the block with him”, Miles insists.

Though he’s grown, Shuri is glad to see he still has that genuine kindness about him. Must be a family thing perhaps. She wouldn't really know because besides Abha, and by extension Namor, she’s all but an orphan. Even as her extended family loves to tell her how much she was loved by Ramonda and T’Chaka, her parents, and doted on by her big brother, T’Challa, she has no memory of it. She was barely three when she lost them.

Shuri still muses over the invitation for a few more seconds. 

“I’ll see what I can do. Do you need me to RSVP ?” she asks as she searches for her phone to create a reminder. 

Miles snickers, shaking his head. “Mister Almehen was right. You really must live in a white picket-fence neighborhood.”

“What gives ?”

“ The RSVP thing. We don’t do that there, it’s just a block party. All you gotta do is bring some food along. I’m sure my parents will be happy to see you !”

There’s a familiar pang at Shuri’s chest. She pretty much ghosted all old friends and neighbors after the accident, and the divorce that followed. 

She had a mind to ghost Namor too for a while but she figured it would be too cruel and selfish to deprive Abha of a father all because she needed a clean state. And it’s not like Namor wouldn’t have chased her to the ends of the earth if she even dared .

Back in the present, she takes another gulp of water and finally acquiesces to Mile’s proposition.

“Wait… Is your boss coming too ?”

Miles gives a hearty smile. “Yes ! And he promised to bring some Mezcal !”

-------------------------------------

Namor comes early at her door the day of the block party, having insisted on carpooling there together since he needed to come back near her neighborhood anyway. Of course this snake did ask in front of Abha so Shuri just couldn’t refuse with how excited it made her darling boy.

She’s still holding tight onto her purple towel, the hair at the nape of her neck still damp from her shower when she opens the door. 

“Namor. It’s ten in the morning ”, she groans instead of saying hello. Though she does give a slight appreciative glance at the sight of his much more casual style. A floral pattern shirt thrown over a white tee matched with linen pants. And he even got his toes out in leather sandals for the occasion. The only vanity he allowed himself are jade earrings.

“Why are you looking at my toes like my feet are smelling ?”

“Because I hate feet.”

She takes a step aside to let him enter the house. 

“Abha is in the bathroom”, she says, answering his interrogatory gaze, “Why are you here so early anyway ? You were supposed to pick us up at 11 : 30.”

She watches as he stands in front of the kitchen island, eyeing the gray porcelain stoneware tiles lining the floor. 

“Your guy did great work”, he says, moving slowly to peer at her back garden from a large window framed in black aluminum.

“I assume you didn’t come here early just to gush at Bucky’s work. What gives ?”

“You’re right. I came here to talk”, he says, turning her back to her as he busies himself and washes his hands before tinkering with her complex coffee machine and its built-in grinder. 

Contrary to the misconceptions his masculine build could suggest, Namor has a sweet tooth, and he takes his coffee with two sugar cubes at least. Surprisingly, he also fixes one mug for Shuri. She eyes it suspiciously before he clicks his tongue.

“Cut the act, I know how you like it”, he says, “Black with no sugar. Unlike your men .”

Shuri swats at his chest for that comment.

“If we’re comparing how we like our coffee to our current dating preferences, I suggest you open the fridge and drink some milk”, she teases before carefully sipping her coffee. 

Namor giggles heartily, and Shuri joins him. He ends up leaning against the marble top while she gets comfy on a stool, crossing her legs, and being very thankful that she did slap some panties on before running down the stairs.

He props his chin on his hand, looking at her intently. Shuri hopes she shivers from the cool morning air and not his gaze.

“That’s actually what I came here to talk about, Pantera .”

The smile on Shuri’s face slowly fades then.

Namor sips on his coffee, peering at her from under his lashes. She knows he’s smiling and enjoying himself thoroughly at her budding discomfort. 

Why is she even uncomfortable in the first place ?

Shuri straightens her stance and wills her features into an open and affable expression.

“I thought about what you said last time, when you barged into my office.”

Her mouth twitches. “I said a lot of things that day, Namor. Be more specific, please.”

Namor puts his cup on the countertop. 

“You asked how I would feel if you were the one to come to my girlfriend to give her advice on how I like things to be taken care of”, he trails, his sentence slithering in Shuri’s mind like a poisonous snake. 

Her foot starts to jiggle. 

“So what ? It’s not like I’m ever gonna do it. The point I was trying to make was about boundaries and…”

“Shuri, I want you to meet my girlfriend.”

Shuri is so thankful for the pitter-patter of their son’s feet looming close right then because she has no other reaction but to blink repeatedly. Then Namor digs the nail into her coffin by making an even more ridiculous proposition.

“In fact, why don’t we old folks organize a double date ?”

-------------------------------------

“Namor wants us to go on a double date with his girlfriend ?” Bucky repeats after her on the phone. 

“ Yes” , Shuri says with an aggravated tone, phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder as she puts the finishing touches to her outfit, a white bodysuit with breezy shorts that she intends to pair with some white sneakers. Her braids are put into a half-up half-down style with a claw clip and two gold hoops come to compliment her rich brown skin.

“And what did you tell him ?” Bucky asks. 

“Well, I was waiting for your input like a normal girlfriend. I’m still impressed you didn’t block my number by now with my ex being all up in my business these days.”

There's silence at the other end of the line. Shuri exploits it by shifting to her bed.  Comfy green heels are peeking out from underneath so she has a change of heart. 

“And now you’re gonna run”, she says, tongue curling in concentration as she clasps the hook of each heel.

Bucky chuckles. “Not a chance, sugar. You’re stuck with me now. No refund.”

Shuri smiles. “Good. Because I plan to keep you.”

Now she’s all ready, she finally picks up her phone normally. 

“So what do you say, Buck ? You wanna go on a double date with me and my ex and my ex’s girlfriend ?”

They both giggle at the same time at how ridiculous that sounds.

“Depends”, Bucky drawls, “Where is Namor offering to take us all ?”

Shuri sighs. “You name it.”

“ Talokan ?” Bucky immediately offers and Shuri bites her lips at the excitement oozing out of his voice. 

For the life of her, Shuri doesn’t understand what kind of mission Namor is on these days. She swore to herself she would never ever set foot in that restaurant again because of the memories but here she is, discussing going back with her boyfriend. 

“What makes you sound so excited about this now that Talokan is mentioned ?”

“Because the food feels like sex there ! Come on, Shuri. I’m not gonna pass up the occasion to have some Pescado a la Talla again”, he says with a special flair. 

Shuri sighs. “Okay, you will. But please refrain from attempting an accent ever again. I really like you and I don’t want you killed by my crazy ex.” 

Bucky chuckles deep again.

“Kay. I will be good on this double date. Can you promise me the same, sugar ?”, he asks, his voice getting all low and hot.

Shuri starts to fiddle with her neckline, biting off a smile.

“It depends. What do I get if I’m good ?”

He hums. “A reward.”

“What if I prefer to be punished ?”, she taunts.

“Then I’ll spank you until you beg for mercy”, Bucky’s sexy voice threatens over the phone.

Shuri hears someone clearing their throat then. 

She turns her head to look at Namor who is standing at her bedroom’s door, their son perched on his hips. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is set into a thin line. 

“Bucky, I’ll call you back”, she says. 

-------------------------------------

Her hands are clasped tight in her lap as Namor drives them to the block party. It’s quite awkward to be just the three of them in a car, it has not happened in forever, and luckily for her Namor and Abha are making up most of the conversation. She also notices how much slower and careful he is because of her and Abha’s presence. 

What Namor lacks in the politics of ex-husbandry, he definitely makes up for it in being a great father. He entertains and challenges their son like no one else can. Shuri could have cried the time he gave Abha swimming lessons but it seems Namor has the right grip to handle their son at his worst. It was also him that their son came to when he got his first bully at only 5 years of age. 

“It’s so cool that we’re going to a party together !”, their son says with a hearty tone. 

It makes Shuri smile and turn her head to give him a fond gaze. She reaches far back to tickle his legs and hear that boyish giggle.

“Miles promised me there’s going to be plenty of kids for you to play with. It’s gonna be fun. ”

“ Miles ? Who is that ?”

Namor smiles. “An old neighbor. He used to be almost as small as you are when your mother and I met him.”

“Is he still small now ?”

Shuri grins. “No. He’s almost taller than your yuum .”

Namor looks at her with a skeptical brow. Shuri discreetly holds her finger to her mouth to keep him from countering.

“How did he do that ? I want to be big and strong too ! Just like Baba !”

“That’s because Miles eats all his vegetables. Even the brussel sprouts”, Shuri lies, tongue curling out in mischief as Namor shakes his head in fond annoyance.

They drive through suburban stretches and cross soccer fields and basketball courts before finally reaching the city center, and its busy streets shaded by tall trees. As they get closer to the Davis-Morales home, manicured lawns are replaced by rows of colorful townhouses with vibrant facades.

Shuri’s anxiety spikes through the roof when Namor secures a parking spot within ten minutes of walking to the block party. 

Namor notices, of course, and his warm hand settles on her knee to keep her leg from fidgeting. 

“Calm down, woman. This is going to be fine. Relax.”

She takes a deep breath in and out, shutting her eyes, and smiling only at the feel of Abha’s small hand tapping lightly on her shoulder. 

Shuri thinks her son is just mirroring his father before he crushes her assumption:

“Mama, I need to poop .”

His confession eases the tension and makes her laugh out loud at how inappropriate it is. Namor ushers the lot of them out of his car like a camp leader then.

Chapter Text

“Tell me you didn’t miss that spice in your life”, Namor teases, holding a folding chair in one hand and a plate full of rice and beans sprinkled with coriander in the other.

Shuri chews on a mouthful of mofongo as her ex-husband settles down beside her, watching far ahead at Abha impressing a group of kids with his hula hoop skills. 

The entire street is closed off for the event, bustling with life still with residents either gathering beside the long buffet lined with puerto-rican delicacies or forming close circles playing board games, dancing or just chatting around with full plates in their laps. 

Shuri smiles as she catches a group composed of both older men  and teenagers formed around a table covered with red, white and blue. From the looks of it, they’re gambling, and the youth is losing. At her other side, Rio Morales watches her silent interaction with Namor intently, her gaze almost scrutinizing and full with unspoken questions that Shuri is not ready to answer yet, at least not in his presence and just as he predicted, none of her old neighbors even minded her ghosting. Shuri has been welcomed to the party like a child returning home, and her small offering of banana bread has been just as much appreciated. 

Namor is right. She did miss this without even knowing it. The food, the music, the community spirit. The only thing she didn’t miss, however, are his almost pornographic sounding moans as he attacks his food. This man always has to do things intensely, even something as mundane as eating.

Shuri throws him an irritated glare while he sucks at some sauce on his thumb.

“Rio, you are a saint for this”, he almost growls.

Rio blushes like a schoolgirl at the attention, tucking a thick curl behind her ear. Shuri used to love the effect Namor has on people, back when they were still a couple. She found it hilarious. He used to even charm his way out of restaurant bills. Now he just sounds like an old gym teacher trying to flirt. Worst is that it works every time.

She takes another taste of mofongo as her ex goes on.

“Seriously, can your husband fight ?”, he insists, scraping at his plate with a fork and leaning forward so Shuri feels him hovering, his face and warm breath tickling her already simmering skin as he keeps sweet talking their host as if they were alone.

“Of course he can. He’s a policeman ”, Shuri grits around a mouthful of plantain.

Namor ignores her. “Your husband is the luckiest man in the world then, I’m jealous of him ! Can’t imagine coming home to this excellent cuisine every single day. I wish God would make me this lucky.” 

“You should have gotten a puerto-rican girlfriend then”, Shuri almost whispers.

There's a silence. Namor seizes her up with an intense expression while Rio’s eyes go round. 

Of course they had to hear that.

Shuri swallows her food, deliberately staring at her plate to avoid their questioning gaze.

“It’s surreal to see your baby boy all grown up”, Rio says with a beautiful smile, and Shuri could kiss her for that quick save up “If my memory is correct, you were just pregnant when you guys moved out.”

“I can say the same about Miles”, Shuri says with a small smile of her own, “It took me some time to recognize him.”

“Mi Hijo ” Rio says, a sorrowful look in her eyes, “When Miles was a toddler, I used to call him Mister Besos with how demanding he was in affection. Now he barely lets me hug him. You really gotta enjoy your little boy as much as you can, guys. You only get eighteen summers with them before they wanna spread their wings and leave.”

Shuri senses Namor slow his chewing beside her though he doesn’t comment on that, and as if he just heard his mother calling to him, Miles comes around, breathing ragged like he just ran a marathon.

The DJ plays a reggaeton beat that opens with dramatic violins then. Shuri can’t quite put a name on the song nor the artist but she’s pretty sure she’s already heard it on Riri’s playlist. 

“Oh ! That’s my song !” Rio says, and she excitedly stands up, insisting on giving her son a kiss on the cheek that he accepts while moaning he’s not a baby anymore. She begs him to dance with her but Miles declines and takes his mother’s empty chair instead. 

He falls down in it with a sigh of relief.

“Phew ! Enough dancing for me”, he moans before turning to Namor. “Why don’t you go show off some of your dance moves, old man ?”

“Miles. Careful. I’m still your boss”, Namor warns, “And my best move when reggaeton is playing is to sit down just like this.”

Miles holds on to his chest as if he just had a heart attack at Namor’s words and he croaks out an undignified noise of offense.

“ Namor ”, Shuri says, “Be nice.”

“What for ? You know I hate reggaeton”, her ex counters.

Shuri shakes her head. “Excuse him, Miles. God was out of courtesy when he was conceived.”

“If you’re talking so big, why don’t you go show off your dancing, Princesa ?”

Shuri freezes. “I haven’t finished my plate yet.”

It’s an excuse and they all know it. 

“I can hold it for you”, Namor offers, and he even extends his hand towards her to prove his good will.

He’s taunting her, she knows. Yet she does want to take the bait because dancing is fun and they used to dance all night long as a couple. 

“Come on, Miss Shuri !” Miles says, clapping his hands excitedly.

Shuri sighs but still stands up, handing her plate to Namor.

“You better not touch my food”, she warns.

Namor shrugs. “Wasn’t even dreaming of it.”

She gives him a last no nonsense glare before peering at the dancefloor, where a net of dancers are encircling Rio Morales. 

“Just go have fun, Shuri”, Namor nudges with a much more gentle tone, “ I’ll watch over Abha from here.”

Yet Shuri feels his gaze drilling into her back from the moment she starts leaving. 

“ Wait ”, his voice then says urgently, stopping her right in her tracks. 

Shuri turns around to find him closing the few steps between them.

“What’s wrong ?”, she asks, lifting a brow.

Namor watches her intensely before leaning in, and slowly unclasps the claw clip maintaining her half-up half-down hairstyle. Then her bronze and black braids rain down her back like a waterfall.

The corner of his mouth quirks up then.

“Now that’s perfect. Go show them how it’s done, Pantera .”

Smooth bastard, Shuri muses , mouth slightly agape yet again at his display of audacity, looking at him suspiciously for a few more seconds. She walks backwards in vigilance before she finally turns around with the full intent to go murder the dancefloor.

“That was smooth as hell, old man” , she hears Miles say with a whistle, “Could you teach me how to do that ?

Despite his promise to watch over their son, Shuri feels Namor watching her like a hawk the entire time she sways her hips to the music. 

He only stops staring when an older man comes up to him, holding up a match and asking for what must be cigarettes in Spanish. 

Shuri keeps dancing, snapping her fingers to the beat, and watches the interaction unfold like like it had many times in the past. Someone comes up to Namor assuming he speaks Spanish, and though he does, but he'd rather speak in his native tongue, Yucatec Maya, than the language of the Conquistadors. Nine times out of ten, his attitude cuts through any attempt of friendliness.

She smiles when it looks like Namor has found a rare gem this time, her ex-husband beaming like a kid as the old man talks his native tongue back at him and she doesn't mind one bit that Namor gestures at him to take her seat.

---------------------------

When she returns to their spot, neither Namor nor Miles are there. Her heart slightly picks up speed not seeing Abha and her father in the crowd but she slowly breathes in relief when she spots Jefferson Davis coming up to her with Abha sitting on his shoulders. A peaked, navy blue cap is almost eating away his entire face.

“Mama !”, her son exclaims, “Mister Davis promised to make me ride in a police car ! Please say yes !”

Officer Davis chuckles at his enthusiasm. Shuri shakes her head in fond annoyance, moving up her arms to signal Abha can go off the police officer’s shoulders but her boy resolutely shakes his head, his small arms holding on tight to the policeman’s thick neck. 

Shuri crosses her arms at the rejection with a mock offended expression and clicks her tongue.

“Looks like you have a brand new son, Officer Davis”, she teases.

“Fine by me”, the older man smiles, eyes crinkling with mischief, “Surely my wife would love to spoil him.”

“He isn’t too heavy though, is he ?”

Officer Davis shakes his head. “It’s all good, Shuri. Reminds me of the time Miles was small enough for me to carry him just like this. Go dance some more, I’ll take care of him.”

She smiles at the confession and immediately decides to let him have this moment. She knows she will get dramatic as hell herself when time comes for Abha to be a young adult. Her son forms a makeshift cap with one hand then, peering ahead at some nonsense, no doubt,  before excitedly begging Miles’s father to go there. 

“Mister Jefferson ! Miles is stealing all the coco cookies ! We have to catch him !”, he almost squeals in excitement.

“Alright, alright, young man. Let’s stop this criminal from stealing”, Jefferson Davis smiles, winking at Shuri.

He stops at her level just so, beaming at her like a proud father. 

“It’s good to see you smile and enjoy yourself, Shuri. Always remember you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

His warm words give her pause and Officer Davis only leaves when Shuri gives a curt nod to that. 

-----------------------------------

She finds Namor retreating in the Morales kitchen an hour later, sitting on the edge of a window with a hand applying pressure points to his chest, as if he were in some kind of pain. 

She leaves the empty plate which used to be filled with grilled pork on the counter, as per Rio Morales’s instruction.  

“You alright ?”, she asks, noticing the thin sheen of sweat on Namor’s forehead, and his labored breath.

She makes his way to him and naturally puts the back of her hand on his head to check for his temperature, the way she would do for their son. 

His skin is burning.

“Do you have a fever or something ?”

She thinks he’s gonna swat her hand off when his hand catches her wrist but she’s surprised to find him move it close to his chest, right over the relentless staccato beating of his heart. 

They haven’t been this close in a long time and at first, Shuri can only stand still, knitting her brow at the impromptu intimacy. When he doesn’t release her hand after a few seconds, she sighs. 

“Let me guess, you did drink and I’m gonna have to drive your precious jaguar back to your penthouse ?”, she tries.

He shakes his head, and squeezes her hand tight, giving her a sorrowful look before finally releasing it. Shuri immediately hugs herself, missing the warmth of that slight touch and resolutely determined to deny it.

“Nah, I’m alright. I just had a bad night's sleep, that’s all”, he says, and she can tell from the faint twitch in his brow that he's lying through his teeth. 

Namor makes a move to stand then, only to have his wobbly legs betray him and he has to take anchor on the window’s wall. Shuri immediately comes to his side to help his stance. 

“Okay that’s enough now. Where do you keep your keys ?”

“In my pocket”, he grumbles. 

“Just sit.”

“Shuri-”

“I said sit ”, she orders.

Namor yields to her for once, taking a seat on a woven chair. Shuri bends and palms both linen pockets to guess where the keys are. She holds them up with triumph then.

“Got em ! To think you wouldn’t let me drive your jaguar and now you need me to”, she teases, twirling the keys around one finger just to be extra.

Namor rolls his eyes. “If you’re gonna be all smug about it, I can just call you guys an uber and wait for my own.”

He tries to take the keys from her and she shrieks, losing her balance. The keys fall down. She has to crouch some more to retrieve them from under the chair. 

Rio Morales enters the kitchen right at this moment. Her eyes open wide as they take in the both of them like this. Namor sitting on a chair and Shuri on her knees in between his legs.

“I can come back later…”, she says, blushing furiously, putting another large empty tray on the large kitchen counter and covering her eyes before running away, almost losing a slipper in the process.

“ Rio, no ! It’s not what it looks like…”, Shuri says in vain, the house owner already gone.

Namor’s eyes are sparkling with mischief when Shuri gazes up at him again. She immediately stands up and wipes her knees, her cheeks burning. 

“This is not funny, you fool”, she sniffs, and crosses her arms with car keys in hand.

“It is actually. How scandalous. Shuri Udaku on her knees for her ex-husband during a block party. In the kitchen, where food is prepared”, Namor teases, “ What would James think ?”

“He would think nothing of it because nothing is happening. And you better not run your mouth about it just to make him uncomfortable.”

Namor hums and his dark eyes travel down the long line of Shuri’s  neck to settle at her breasts. She tightens the cross of her arms but it doesn’t do anything. Seems to have the opposite effect actually. She feels heat pooling low in her abdomen at his undivided attention and the undisclosed desires hanging in the air. 

Her sanity is definitely hanging by a thread. A very very loose thread. 

“If nothing is happening between us, Pantera , why are your nipples hard ?”

“I’m cold”, Shuri grits.

Her ex arches a brow. “No you’re not. It’s hot outside, you just danced and the oven is still working overtime.”

Shuri snaps her fingers at him. “ Whatever . It’s none of your business ! You have a girlfriend and I have Bucky. What are we even doing here discussing this nonsense ? Let’s go .”

Her heels click on the floor as she takes rapid strides towards the kitchen’s entrance. 

Namor doesn’t follow her. Shuri rolls her eyes.

“ Namor . You better start moving your butt or you can call that uber and manage your car on your own !”

The only answer that comes after Shuri’s threat is the sound of a hard thump hitting the floor. 

When she turns around, Namor’s limp figure is stretched on the ground. 

Shuri screams.

---------------------------

“Calm down, everyone ! I just fainted. It can happen to the best of us”, Namor growls before taking a gulp of coconut water.

He’s sprawled like a tired tiger on the couch in the Morales family’s living room, Abha sitting on his lap with a concerned expression no seven year old should have. Namor had hit his brow in the fall, and now there’s a stupid t-rex bandage on his brow, courtesy of Abha being a little daredevil that forces Shuri to always have some bandages in hand just in case. Miles and his parents are also hovering over Namor like concerned relatives.  

Shuri is the only one who stays at a distance, her arms crossed and her brows furrowed in both suspicion, fear and annoyance, her heart still beating rapidly after the incident.

“You never faint”, she says with a somber look. 

Namor clicks his tongue, picking an invisible piece of lint from his floral shirt while their son idly plays with his jade earrings.

“I told you I was sleeping bad these days.”

“We’ve been married for 8 years and dated for 10. I never saw you faint during that time just because you couldn’t sleep.”

“I told you, woman : I am fine .”

Rio Morales shifts on her toes then. “Are you sure ? No more dizziness or feeling warm and sweaty ?”

Namor shakes his head. “None of that. You guys just give me a few seconds and I’ll be good to go.”

Shuri breathes a little better once again at Rio’s intervention. As a nurse, she is the one Shuri trusts the most in this room, and Namor too apparently because he’s been so insistent on not calling his doctor girlfriend.

“I can drive you home, Namor ”, Officer Davis offers, squeezing his wife’s shoulder for comfort.

Namor shakes his head. “No need, Officer. I don’t live too far from here, I’ll just take things slow. Besides, I promised to carpool Shuri and Abha home.”

Shuri tuts at the comment. “Nope. I texted Bucky to pick us up. You should get some more rest before leaving, you look awful.”

It’s a lie, Namor barely looks like he just broke a sweat, with only the cut in his brow as a physical reminder of his fainting, but Shuri is worried and she’d rather have him under Officer Davis’s and Rio Morales’s care. 

She doesn’t miss the way Namor grounds his jaw nor the lightning of irritation flashing in his eyes. One thing Shuri knows for certain is that her ex-husband hates to look weak. That’s one of his biggest pet-peeves but at the moment, Shuri doesn’t give a flying fuck about his macho ways. She just wants everyone to come home safe and sound.

“Come on, boss”, Miles says, “You’d do my old man a favor too. He’s never ever rode in a jaguar. It’s one of his favorite cars by the way ! And it’s his birthday too !

“Miles ”, Officer Davis splutters with a slight blush.

The young man shrugs. “What ? You would kill two birds with one stone.”

“No ”, Rio’s voice says with a firmness that doesn’t call for any opposition, making everyone stand straighter at attention, “ I will drive . You boys stay here for the cleanup.”

Shuri exchanges a gaze with the older woman, mouthing thanks discreetly.

Rio Morales gives her a reassuring nod and smile.

---------------------------

“Hey, pal !” Bucky shouts the minute he’s out of his red pick-up truck. 

Abha immediately runs to his huge arms which are opened wide to give the boy a hug, and Bucky almost loses his balance at the abrupt collision of the little boy’s body against his. Shuri gives a half-smile after quickly glancing at the both of them.

“My baba fainted like a princess”, Abha immediately confesses, hugging Bucky’s neck tight.

“Well I will faint too if you keep choking me like that”, Bucky laughs.

Abha releases him then holds on to his hand as they both walk to Shuri’s direction. She’s still exchanging a few more words with Rio Morales, who is holding the precious keys to Namor’s jaguar, and listening intently at Shuri’s directions.

“And before I leave, let me just say I can’t thank you enough for today, Rio. Truly ,” she says.

The older woman leans to give Shuri a hug and Shuri has to blink away the tears menacing to fall. 

Her eyes are still damp when she looks at Namor who is already in the passenger seat of his sleek jaguar, and determined to act like a brat, ignoring her by resolutely looking far ahead. 

It makes her huff as she releases Miles’s mother. She barely has a mind to introduce Bucky to Rio, leaving just as her son decides to run his mouth. Again.

“Mrs Morales, this is Bucky. He repairs a lot of things like my bike or my Mama’s house. Mama made him drink wine once and Bucky had to stay home for a sleepover !”

Little traitor , Shuri thinks, closing the distance to Namor’s car and knocking on the car window to get his attention.

When he ignores her, she knocks even harder until he has to glare at her.

“Namor . Just roll down the windows”, she hisses.

Namor gestures at his ear and shrugs like he can’t hear her. 

Shuri decides to change her strategy then, and almost climbs on the hood of his car to throw a hard knock at the windshield. That finally does him in and Shuri smirks in triumph when he finally rolls a window down.

“Are you mad, woman ?”

Shuri’s butt finally slides off the hood of the car. She rests her fists on her hips, meeting Namor’s hardened glare with a satisfied smile.

“Got your attention, now, do I ?”

“What do you want, you traitor ?”

“If that’s your way of saying thanks, you still have a few more lessons to go. Go home, get some rest and hydrate, you fool.”

“I’m a grown man. I don’t need your advice”, Namor says as he stiffens.

“And this grown man is like a ragdoll just because of lack of sleep apparently. You better get that checked, Namor.”

“Or else ?”

Shuri quickly glances behind her before leaning closer, and talking  with a much more whispery tone.

“I will tell your doctor girlfriend how much you love being pegged. Right during our double date.”

“You wouldn’t”, Namor grits through his teeth.

“Try me”, Shuri warns before turning her back on him.

“Shuri. You better not. I swear it ! This is a lie .”

He calls after her once more but Shuri ignores him. 

Bucky and Rio Morales are watching her with both curiosity and mirth when she returns.

Shuri claps her hands. “Time to go home !”

Chapter Text

Just like Shuri remembers, Talokan looks like a dream, and stepping inside the restaurant feels like getting hugged by a tropical paradise. With its earthy tones and natural materials, Talokan’s entire decor evokes the ancient landscapes of the Yucatan Peninsula. The rich yellow walls of the restaurant are adorned with murals featuring iconic Maya pyramids, and jungle settings, all intertwined with smaller pieces depicting tropical fish and sea creatures. Shuri knows they’re either made by Namor’s hands or his mother’s, Fen. Overall, it's a warm and inviting atmosphere, with lanterns and sconces adding a soft glow to the room. 

The guests surrounding them are enjoying the laid back vibes very much, the joyous hubbub of their chatter only interrupted by the clashing of cutlery. Good times, good food, good company. Everyone is having fun.

Except them. 

Their table is almost silent, if you ignore Bucky’s idle attempt at small talk and the rhythmic pings of Namor’s phone, who prefers tapping idly on the ancient device than to engage in a conversation with them. This could put Shuri out of her mind if it weren’t for Bucky’s occasional gentle touches. Also, Namor’s doctor girlfriend is late, and it doesn’t surprise Shuri much. Leave it to Namor to find someone who considers other’s time as lightly as he does.

Bucky excuses himself for a quick bathroom break then, squeezing Shuri’s shoulders as he goes just to ease her mind. Shuri exploits the moment to kick Namor’s leg under the table, her move hidden behind the vibrant, stripe patterned tablecloth. 

“What was that for ?”, he grunts, finally looking up for his phone.

“Retribution ! ”, Shuri says, “You’re the one who wanted this double date yet you act like this. Stop looking down your nose at us, you ain’t no diva .”

Namor glares. “As you can see, I’m still not over that stunt you pulled on me at the Morales party.”

Shuri scoffs. “You’re mad at me for asking a friend to drive you to safety ? Please, be for real. ” She takes a sip of lemonade when Namor finally leans in, both his hands laying flat on the table.

“No . I’m displeased because someone encouraged an old friend to tuck me in like a kid, and all of that because of a little discomfort. I’m old enough to fend for myself, thank you very much”, he hisses.

Shuri puts her glass down the table with a bang that startles a few guests around them. 

“Fine . I promise I'll let you choke on your own vomit next time.”

Luckily for them both, Attuma, Namor’s cousin and Talokan’s master waiter, comes to their tables with menus in hand before they get more ridiculous.

“Enough, you two ”, he chides gently, “Just because the live band canceled on us at the last minute doesn’t mean you guys need to put on a show. Wait, where the hell is Bucky ?”

“In the bathroom …taking suspiciously long if I might add”, Namor says, taking a swig of water.

“I could say the same about your girlfriend”, Shuri retorts instantly, “Where is she by the way ? Is she lost ? If she even exists…”

Attuma whistles at Shuri’s audacity then puts four single menus decked in gold and green in front of them. He shakes his head at them in disbelief.

“There’s enough fire at this table for Namora to grill the meat”, he muses, “ Ka'a suku'un, are you sure you don’t need a bucket of ice nearby ?”

“No need, Attuma. Shuri isn’t angry. She’s hungry ”, Namor says pointedly, attention back on his phone.

Attuma nods, and he turns to Shuri with eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Know that I’m still happy to see you there, Shuri. You’re always welcome in Talokan .”

Shuri peers at Namor to see if he’d dare refute Attuma’s statement. She’s very relieved when he ignores them, and holds his finger up to pick up a call. 

It just takes a few seconds and a lot of nodding. Namor hangs up with a satisfied smile.

“Sue is not very far anymore. One of her elderly patients felt unwell and she accompanied him to the emergency room”, he says proudly. 

Shuri rolls her eyes as Bucky comes back and exchanges a ridiculous handshake with Attuma. Something involving an open palm gesture followed by what looks like a thumb war.  Then he sits back down next to her. 

“What did I miss ?”, he asks, planting a soft kiss on her temple.

Shuri takes her lemonade glass again, his presence easing the tension.

“Nothing .”

---------------------------

Shuri notices the other woman’s skintight dress more than anything. You just couldn’t miss it. A glamorous shade of red hugging a svelte physique and ample breasts - which should be mathematically impossible if Shuri might add - all supported by spaghetti straps. One of them was even stylishly adorned with a single red rose.  

When the blonde woman is greeted by one of Attuma’s bear hugs, Shuri notices the dress has a slit in the back too. Goddamn . Namor’s girlfriend is pretty much real and not only does she have the brains to become a doctor but she also looks like a movie star or a siren. 

Shuri watches as she commands the attention of many other men in the room, the main culprit being Namor, who is shamelessly gawking at her figure, and practically springs from his chair to pull out hers. Sue takes off her white sunglasses then she hides an almost shy smile at Namor leaning in and whispering something into her ear. 

“Ki'ichpanech. You look gorgeous. Simply gorgeous”, he says with a low, intimate voice, without taking his eyes off her.

Sue giggles and playfully tugs at his neckline.

“I’m glad you like it, Almehen. Because you’re the one who paid for it.”

“How much did it cost ?”

“Everything. ”

“It’s well deserved. I love that dress.”

Shuri could have died for some food moments earlier but now, it feels like there’s stones piling up in her stomach and bile rising at her throat. Namor’s hand doesn’t leave the small of Sue’s back even as she sits down. 

Shuri turns to Bucky for reassurance, and she’s relieved to find at least one man who is not under the blonde siren’s spell. In fact, Bucky’s gaze is pretty fixated on Shuri’s neckline, and she has to snap her fingers at him to make him stop and focus on the arriving guest.

“Hello guys. I’m really sorry for being late, there’s been an emergency. Susan Storm”, Sue says, extending her hand to shake Shuri’s and then Bucky’s.

Shuri crosses her arms after that, hating the sudden feeling of being inadequate in the other woman’s presence. 

Susan ? Namor dating a white woman named Susan definitely wasn’t on her 2024 bingo.

And was that even a real emergency if she comes out looking like…that ? Or was it just an elaborate excuse to doll herself up to make a grand entrance ?

“You can call me Sue of course, Susan makes me feel like my aunt”, Sue says. 

Bucky smiles. “Same here. I’d rather have people call me Bucky than James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky”, Sue offers before taking the menu placed in front of her. 

Her bright blue gaze turns to Shuri then. 

“You’re just as beautiful as Abha said, Shuri”, she offers, “He must take his cat like eyes from you.”

Shuri only notices she’s been glaring when Bucky nudges her gently, and Namor clears his throat with a warning.

“Yeah uhm… Thank you . You look…You look great too, Sue. Very beautiful”, she finally says before picking up her own menu, blatantly hiding behind it to avoid Namor’s insistent staring. 

“You guys must be famished. Let’s dig in this menu”, Sue says, a perfectly manicured nail gliding over the list of Maya inspired delicacies.

For a short while, there’s only the murmur of other diners mingling with the sounds of traditional music playing softly in the background as both couples muse over the food choices.

“Bucky, you have to try the Tikin Xic Tacos if you haven’t already”, Shuri says animatedly, “They're one of my favorites here. The flavors are just out of this world.”

Bucky smiles. “Alright, sugar, I’m gonna trust you on that one. As long as you promise me it's not too spicy for this Brooklyn guy.”

“Of course, Shuri would recommend the tacos. Always so predictable ”, Namor sighs from the other end of the table, without even looking up.

“Spare me, Namor”, Shuri grits, “You used to have the taste of a dobermann before you met me.”

“Woah ”, Bucky sighs, a hand going over his face, while Namor’s shoulders shake with mirth at her attitude. Shuri stills at first but relaxes just so at the sound of Sue’s crystal clear giggle and her ex-husband deep rumbly laugh. 

“Let's keep this civil, shall we? How about we all try a bit of everything and share ?” Sue says after sobering up a little, “The Pibil Pork Ribs sounds amazing.”

“Yeah, let's share. This is meant to be a fun night out, right Shuri ?” Bucky agrees, deliberately bumping his shoulder hers.

And with that being said, the group tries to steer the conversation back to lighter topics. It’s mostly a collective effort on Bucky and Sue’s part with a few interjections from Namor and Shuri here and then. The less they share the better. That’s also  how Shuri learns Sue Storm is an Oxford Medical School graduate no less, and how small the world is because Bucky and her used to go to the same high school. 

Then they start the dinner with a traditional lime soup with chicken, tortilla strips, and avocado before following with grilled fish tacos with achiote marinade, pickled red onions, and habanero salsa. Shuri is already full, and a tad tipsy, by the time Attuma brings lobster tamales to their table.

“How did you guys  meet again ?” Shuri asks before taking a sip of her Maya Margarita.

Namor and Sue exchange a conniving glance then.

“You wanna go first, Ki'ichpan ?”, he asks her playfully.

Sue bites off a grin while looking at Shuri’s ex-husband with wonder. 

“Allow me . It’s very simple really. I signed up for a drink and paint event on a friday night and this beautiful, sexy as hell man was there. He even got into an argument with the man managing the session to defend my honor. And I slipped my number in his drink on the way out.”

“My glass was still half-full”, Namor chides before drinking some of his bourbon on the rocks.

“Did he call you back on that same night ?”, Bucky asks, holding his chin with his palm, and way too invested in Namor and Sue’s little meet cute story for Shuri’s taste.

She eyes him with suspicion as Sue goes on : 

“Oh yeah . He said it was rude for me to leave before he could finish flirting with me”, she says, giving a pointed gaze at Namor, whose arm is now around her chair. 

Of fucking course Namor would lead with that smug pickup line. Still, there’s a detail in Sue’s story that pricks at Shuri’s curiosity.

“Why did Namor have to defend your honor ?”

Sue looks at Namor as if asking for permission then. Her ex-husband decides to detail the rest of the story.

“That mad man was being an asshole about Sue’s art. Said watercolor was for little grandmas and true art should come from someone’s guts instead of being all rainbows and flowers.”

Shuri arches a skeptical brow. “Namor. That sounds exactly like something you would say.”

“Does it ?” Namor challenges.

Shuri rolls her eyes, preferring to swallow the rest of her Maya Margarita in one go under Bucky’s disbelieving stare than to fight her ex-husband in front his new girlfriend.

“What about you guys ?” Sue asks earnestly, “How did you meet ?”

Namor snickers. “Yes Shuri. Tell us how you met James right over there.”

Shuri glares at him before turning to Sue with a polite smile.

“I bought a house in the suburbs with the divorce money.”

“Oop-” Sue interjects, taking a swig of her cocktail, looking at Namor sideways. 

“The house needed renovation and everyone in the neighborhood was raving about their favorite handyman.”

 Shuri flicks a flirtatious gaze at Bucky then. “One of my neighbors showed me pictures of Bucky’s work and convinced me to have a first appointment with him. To make him look at the scope of work waiting for him.”

Sue smiles at Bucky. “I take it you were seduced by his beautiful blue eyes”, she teases.

Shuri nods. “ And his beautiful hands .  He’s not just good at using tools…”

Bucky almost coughs. Namor looks very concerned with the veins on his hands then.

That’s when the traditional music in the background turns into something more upbeat yet almost menacing. Shuri recognizes the bumps and bounce of the reggaeton song instantly.  Yo Voy from Zion Y Lennox. Another club staple from Riri’s playlist . 

Surely Namor will be livid about this. Shuri wonders if Attuma is the culprit in charge of the playlist selection. Regardless, she could kiss anyone responsible for this.

“Oh, I love this song, Namor”, Sue almost moans, taking Namor’s face in between her alabaster hands “ Come dance with me, handsome .”

Shuri awaits for the usual Almehen rebuttal. She almost sing-songs Namor’s signature sentence when reggaeton plays : “ My best move when reggaeton is on is to sit down. ”

Except he doesn’t this time, and only lets out a fond annoyed sigh as he stands tall, extending his hand for Sue to take. 

Shuri gawks while watching the both of them slowly move to the dancefloor, and in no time, Sue Storm is beating the white people can’t dance allegations as she expertly bounces her shoulders and hips, Namor mirroring her moves and rolling his torso like a wave. It should look ridiculous but instead, these two look hot, and it’s not long before they’re surrounded by a few diners clapping their hands to the beat.  

Shuri watches, resentment coiling around her heart like a snake, while Namor and Sue step side to side, his big bronze hands low on her hips to guide her rhythm. Someone even whistles the moment he dips her down low so she leans backward from the waist and flicks her blonde locks.

Shuri doesn’t miss the way Namor leans in to press a small peck at her neck before helping her sweep back up. She’s still furrowing her brows when she notices Bucky is holding up his phone and filming the entire thing.

“Bucky, why are you filming ?” Shuri asks.

He shrugs. “For research purposes. I wanna be able to sweep you off your feet like this someday.”

It’s more than Shuri can bear so without a word, she escapes their table, and decides to take some fresh air outside.

---------------------------

She’s not the only one who thought of the idea, Shuri realizes at the sight of a long line of guests dispersed on the sidewalk, mostly the ones who smoke and those who have to take some late night calls.

"Can't believe you agreed to this ridiculous plan ”, a stern female voice berates her from behind. 

Shuri’s eyes go round, taking in Namora’s appearance as she leans against a wall. Her heart soars at the sight of the other woman. It’s been ages. Her face is still the same as before, pretty and strong with a chiseled jaw that says she can fight. Her luscious dark hair is hidden by a mesh cap, and she’s wearing a dark, double breasted jacket embroidered with a feathered serpent. 

Since Namora is allergic to any kind of affection, Shuri reminds herself to simply stay put. Namor’s cousin and Talokan’s head chef is currently rolling a cigarette in between her fingers, and it makes her want to burn her worries too, even if she has not smoked since the adrenaline rush of her MIT days. 

But tonight, Shuri needs a little window in the jail cell of that double date she had the misfortune to agree to.

“Do you have another one for me ?”, she asks instead of answering Namora’s question, figuring her need to smoke is obvious enough. 

Namora arches a brow but still rummages her pocket for a box of Marlboro and a match. It’s all muscle memory from then on, Shuri bringing the flame to the tip of her cigarette, and allowing it to lay in the flame for a few seconds before pulling a little smoke into her mouth. She hands Namora’s match back to her then, looking up at the starry night while she lets the smoke cool down in her mouth. Then she blows the smoke out through her nose dramatically.

Namora abruptly giggles then.

 “What’s so funny ?” Shuri asks, turning to glare at her. 

“ Nothing.”

“Namora …”

“Okay, okay. It’s just that you look like you're really going through it”, Namora says before inhaling some more smoke herself. 

“ Girl, I am going through it ”, Shuri grits, “And you can thank your cousin from hell for that.”

Shuri tries to collect her thoughts while smoking. Ashes fall to the ground. 

“Yeah. Namor’s been acting weird for some time.”

“Just acting weird ? This man made it his personal mission to ruin my life. Showing up at my house, taking my boyfriend on man to man dates. He even told him about my favorite flowers and- and some other very private things that he has no business running his mouth about.”

“And he’s dating a white woman”, Namora adds, “Not even a spicy one at that.”

Shuri nods to that, flailing her hands about. “He’s a big hypocrite ! Can you believe that ? After all the nonsense he talks about colonizers all the time.”

Her words give Namora pause. “Shuri. Aren’t you dating a white man as well ?”, Namora asks, putting out the last embers of her cigarette in the closest ashtray. 

Shuri inches forward and almost stumbles, courtesy of the Maya Margarita running down her system. “Namora, I admit having every taste under the rainbow ever since I was a child ! Yes, my brand of activism stops at the bedroom door. And yes , I am attracted to handsome white men. The difference between Namor and me is I always owned up to my tastes.”

“She’s the only blonde woman he ever brought to Talokan though”, Namora muses then.

Shuri shuts her eyes to bring her cigarette to her mouth again when it’s snatched away from her. 

“What the heck ?”

“Why are you smoking this poison ?” Namor snarls, putting her cigarette away before giving an accusing look at Namora, “Let me guess. It was your idea ?”

Namora glares right back at her cousin then.

Shuri crosses her arms. “No. It was my idea. Do you think I am incapable of asking for a cigarette ?”

“Why though ?”, Namor asks, mirroring her closed off stance.

Namora looks back and forth between the both of them before putting her hands in the air, and walking in fast strides back inside the restaurant, muttering something along the lines of Máak tonta. 

Shuri doesn’t need a translator to understand Namor’s cousin just called them stupid.

“Shuri. Why were you smoking ? You know it’s bad for your lungs, right ?”

Shuri gives a bitter laugh. “So what ? You’re gonna arrest me ?”

Realization dawns on Namor’s face. “Okay, I get it. You’re drunk . Let’s just get inside to finish our meal. Our Xtabentun Flans are there.”

“I just had my dessert.”

“A cigarette, really ?”

“Yeah. Maybe you should ask Namora for one so you finally loosen up and get off my nuts.”

“Such vulgar words should never come out of such a pretty mouth”, Namor grits.

“So you think your ex-wife’s mouth is pretty, huh ? Interesting . Let me go ask your doctor girlfriend what she thinks about that”, Shuri taunts, deliberately bumping her shoulder with Namor’s.

He doesn’t say anything though, preferring to watch her like a man starved. 

His rugged fingers close around her wrist, keeping her in place.

“Namor…?” Shuri tries, her heartbeat slowly elevating under his intense stare.

He draws nearer. She tenses her shoulders. The cologne that hits her nostrils is both fresh and musky.

Shuri only realizes her back touches a stone wall at how cold the material feels against the yellow mustard of her open back sundress. 

Her chest heaves when she notices Namor just caged her in with the thick brawn of his arms. A small hand comes to grip the curve of his bicep under the slim fit of his white shirt, and her treacherous thumb glides over and over his muscles. 

Namor’s breath is hot against her mouth, and their breathing becomes ragged at the electricity between them. The thoughts that run through Shuri’s mind are impossible. 

Despicable even. 

A huge hand glides down the wall to grip her tiny waist, squeezing her hip.

“Don’t …”, Shuri says though she pushes him closer with her hands, and they both moan at the press of their bodies together. The feel of his growing desire for her. 

The ache to be skin against skin is maddening. Namor’s mouth stops breathing over hers to kiss her cheek then her neck. Then he takes a hard sniff at the smell of her perfume. 

Shuri’s knees almost buckle. 

“Namor”, she begs him. For something. Anything .

Her ex-husband tilts his head to look at her better then. And whatever he sees makes him release her instantly, inching slowly backwards even as his greedy eyes still bear traces of his desire for her. 

He gestures at the restaurant.

Shuri mentally calculates how far the entrance is, and her stomach falls at the idea of her boyfriend and Namor’s girlfriend possibly witnessing all of that. She fists her dress, heart beating wildly, and looks around her with slight disorientation.

“You’re drunk, Shuri”, Namor says, giving reassurance, “Just drunk. You won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

Shuri looks at his broad frame. He’s idly plucking at the cuff of his shirt, looking impossibly dark and handsome, and his hair is slightly tousled, no doubt from her attention.

“Go inside, Shuri”, Namor tells her.

Shuri obeys him for once.

Chapter Text

Weeks after their whirlwind of a double date at Talokan, Namor all but practically ignores her. 

Sure, Shuri's impossible ex-husband still stops by to take their son out, or drop a hefty alimony cheque directly into Shuri's mailbox but she knows something between them has changed that night.  

Namor is more guarded with each visit, more distant, and even his  taunts have less bite and fire to them until they completely stop spilling out his mouth and he interacts with Shuri like she’s one of his clients at his law firm. 

It's maddening. 

Shuri still doesn’t know how to process whatever unfolded between them the night she met his girlfriend. She wants - no, she needs to untie the knot of complications that occurred. Needs to know exactly where Namor and her left off. Needs to remind him of boundaries and rules to abide by to keep that from ever happening again. 

Shuri is not stupid. She refuses to blame her own actions that night on alcohol abuse. She wanted Namor before he even caged her to that wall. And she was jealous of Susan Storm before even meeting her. That’s as honest with herself as she can get because she rationalizes the jealousy with insecurity over being replaced with another mother figure in her son's life and wanting Namor because after a decade together, he's the man who knows her body best. 

Yet, not knowing about his thoughts and feelings on the matter is infinitely frustrating, and after weeks of waiting for a window of opportunity to discuss her new obsession with the state of their relationship, Shuri decides letting go might be the préférable course of action.   

If Bucky noticed any difference in her interactions with her ex-husband, he doesn’t mention it, acting his usual affable and patient self, and even offering to take her somewhere in the woods or the mountains come August, for their three months anniversary. Guilt hasn't stopped nibbling at Shuri’s heart since the moment he offered the invitation, her mind replaying the way Namor’s hot breath fanned over her mouth. 

It's worse when Namor comes knocking one day, as Shuri readies to go to work, just so he could drop by some leaflet for Bucky’s attention. 

Shuri studies pictures of a luxury log cabin in the heart of the mountains, surrounded by pine wood. It has a large deck, 4 bedrooms, a pool, and 3 bathrooms. 

She levels a questioning gaze at Namor. 

“Please don’t tell me you meddled in my relationship again. Going to Aspen was your idea ?”

Namor lifts a brow. “Nope. James shared about wanting to take you to Aspen and I remembered a client of mine promised me a full paid vacation in one of his properties. If this is to you guys's liking then I'll give him a call.”

Shuri’s shoulders deflate a little at that. It’s a nice proposition but for some reason, her ego is dying to rebuke it. Firstly because it means Bucky and Namor are still scheming behind the scenes and secondly because it’s the last thing she expects Namor to do after almost kissing her that night. Perhaps, he does feel some semblance of guilt and that's his way of saying sorry. 

Shuri finds she doesn’t want her ex-husband to be sorry for almost ruining her relationship. 

“Well, thanks, I guess…”, Shuri trails, the leaflet still in hands and slightly fluttering because of her shaky hands. 

Namor gives a curt nod before already turning on his heels. 

“Wait !” Shuri exclaims before she can fully register her words. 

Namor stops and glances cautiously over his shoulders. 

“Why ?”

Shuri takes a few strides to level with him. 

“Let me do something for you, too”, her tongue twists faster than her brain can process.

“What do you mean ?”, Namor asks with caution.

Shuri exhales a shaky breath.

“Well, you’re being extra generous here and I suppose I could try to return the offer for Sue and you.”

“Are you suggesting a double date vacation that extends over a weekend, Pantera ?”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “Hell to the no. But if you wanna surprise her or something…I guess I could give some feminine input.”

She crosses her arms after that. 

Namor looks at her intently, searching for any trace of malice or faux generosity. 

His answer gives her pause and makes her stand suspiciously still.

He takes his chin in between his fingers, looking deep in thoughts. 

“There is something actually…”

“What is it ?”, Shuri tries, sounding earnest as she could be. 

“My mother’s bracelet. The one with the jade and the pearls.”

Shuri’s stomach falls to her shoes. Her breath hitches, heart hammering in her ribcage at the implications behind his sentence. The undisclosed desires he's not ready to share with her yet. 

Her eyes glaze over with mist and confusion. 

“You wanna give it to her ?”, she says, hoping she doesn’t sound too stressed at the prospect. 

Her instantly nervous giggle might give her away though.

“Thought you’d wanna keep it as a heirloom for our son to share with his future wife”, Shuri trails when he keeps seizing her up instead of replying.

Namor' eyes grow thunderous then.

“Shuri. I need this bracelet.”

She slowly nods, and the next lie that comes up to her naturally surprises even herself. 

“Okay. I will give it back to you. As soon as I find it.”

“What do you mean ‘as soon as you find it’. You lost my mother’s bracelet ?”, he grits.

Shuri shakes her head. “Of course not ! Moving into this new house has just been a lot and I have many boxes I still haven’t opened. It will take some time but I will give it back, I promise... And if you didn’t want me to lose it, why did you tell me to keep it after the divorce anyway, genius ?”

“Because I trusted you with it . One would think that, as the mother of my only child, you would understand the magnitude of it. I hate being wrong”, Namor says with a deliberate sting to his voice, accent coming out more with the palpable irritation oozing out of him. 

Shuri averts her gaze to the lane. 

“Sorry”, she sighs. 

-----------------------------------

Shuri does give him his mother’s bracelet back eventually, a full week after his demand, and because Namor keeps blowing up her phone about it. 

She finds it without any trouble. It's tucked away in a neat rosewood box, in a safe hidden away under her bed, like many souvenirs from her marriage to Namor. And Shuri would never tell a soul, but there’s still a few polaroids tucked in there too. Memories of her early twenties when she was Shuri Almehen and felt like the luckiest woman on earth. 

Though she doesn’t shy away from having Namor’s photographs with Abha around the house, there’s still one picture Shuri keeps just for herself too. Abha’s first Christmas. He was only a chubby baby then. On this frame, Shuri is the only one who looks at the camera while their son's face is hidden, tucked underneath his father’s chin, and Namor's face is soft and reverent as he gives Shuri a fond gaze while she takes the picture. It's her favorite family portrait of theirs. 

She’s a little somber after returning the jade and pearls back to their proper owner, and since he doesn't know the history behind it, Bucky is only confused to find her so shaken by the act of returning it. Still, this adorable man offers to take her shopping for another one. Shuri doesn’t have it in her to explain to him whatever she lost is actually priceless, so she lets Bucky drive her to the mall and they spend quite a fun afternoon date there. 

He seems in a particularly good mood, and spends more than usual. Shuri doesn’t want him to spend his month's salary in frivolous stuff but Bucky assures her he's onto a good contract with a brand new client. An estate agent has called onto him to renovate another house on the lane. 

“Which house ?”, Shuri asks him absentmindedly, watching a bracelet formed with gold and silver in a knotted wave with almost hungry eyes.

Bucky says something about Old Stan, their veteran living on the other end of the lane, right at the road's intersection. It intrigues her just a little because the widow has always refused to sell his house, especially since it was his only wife’s last résidence. She mentally pictures his frail frame then, and the time he offered her to babysit. Shuri refused only because her badass son would have probably given the poor man a heart attack. 

So there is going to be a new neighbor on the lane. Shuri hopes Old Stan will not be replaced by an annoying PTA mom or another busy body. They have enough of those in the neighborhood.

Bucky and her are holding hands as they wander around the maze of the mall and its many clients on a busy saturday. Shuri pauses at another jewelry store then, a pair of cute pearl and gold earrings catching her attention beneath the glass.

She looks up to search for a clerk, and her heart drops at the realization that comes. 

Sue Storm is inside, hovering over a line of wedding bands, a slender finger held in front of her mouth in concentration. Shuri instantly feels a phantom hand punching her right in the gut. Her eyes quickly scan the inside of the jewellry store for Namor's broad swimmer frame but there are no signs of him. 

So this is it. The reason why Namor wanted to take back his mother’s bracelet so bad.

He wants to marry her. 

Both women’s eyes meet through the glass. That's when an arm gently wraps around Sue’s shoulder to pull her into a tight embrace. The man she’s with is just as tall as Namor but looks nothing like him. In fact, he’s closest to Bucky’s features, with a neatly groomed brown beard and thick hair that matches. 

His gaze doesn’t catch Shuri gawking and he’s oblivious to the slight desperation in Sue’s eyes as he bends to kiss her mouth hotly. 

Shuri tugs at Bucky’s arm. He turns to her with an inquisitive thrown before following the line of her gaze. 

“That's crazy” is his only response.

Sue gently pushes back the other man with a firm hand on his chest, making her way to the store's main entrance. 

Shuri all but flees the scene, tugging at a reluctant Bucky’s hand as she goes. 

---------------------------------

She’s restless the entire drive home, moaning about the bad intuitions she had about Namor’s relationship from the beginning. 

Bucky throws her a few suspicious glances here and then, but in the height of her emotions, she ignores the signs, hands flailing about and nervously talking about the best course to let Namor know his doctor girlfriend he's so proud of is in fact a fat cheater. 

Bucky turns off the engine, and Shuri notices they’re parked right at the curb in front of her house. He’s more silent than usual and doesn’t display any signs of emotions at the news. 

When Shuri asks him about it, his only answer is an uncharacteristic grim laugh at first. 

“Why would I care, Shuri ?”

Shuri pauses and she frowns.

“Because I thought you guys were becoming friends somehow. Isn’t it in the bro code to tell one of the boys when they’re being cheated on ?”

He gives a long suffering sigh, and grips his steering wheel tight with one hand while another worries at his brown mane. 

“Yes”, he grits through his teeth as if it even hurts him to admit. 

“So what gives ?”

Bucky whips his head to look at her. His light gaze travels down her features, and they stop at her naked wrist. 

“I don’t want you to tell your ex-husband his girlfriend is cheating on him.”

Shuri’s mouth gapes open. 

“Why ?”

“Because it’s none of our business.”

Shuri stills and for a moment, all she can do is unfasten her seatbelt as close as possible, the sound almost like a snake's rattle in the safety of the cabin. 

“Bucky, he's the father of my son.”

“Trust me, I know. The life you shared with him is still all over your house, sugar.”

Shuri blinks. She holds a hand up. 

“Pause. You knew I was a divorcee when you met me.”

“Yes I knew. But you didn’t warn me about the way you guys are still obsessed with each other.”

Shuri scoffs. “That snake is the one who is obsessed with me ! I didn’t do anything to-”

“You were jealous”, Bucky’s deep rumble cuts through the air. 

It makes her freeze once again. Her cheeks burn with embarrassment and the quiet way Bucky is cutting through her act. 

His eyes gleam with determination, and his words show just how much he's observed.

“You were being insufferable the entire time we had that double date in Talokan. And I saw how you looked at her. You know why I know you were jealous ? Because that’s the way Namor looked at me the first time we met.”

“And how did I look ?” Shuri taunts deliberately, because being just as aggressive is the only way she can protect herself right now. 

Bucky releases the wheel to clasp his hands in his thick lap. He looks at his fingers before meeting her fluttering lashes again. 

“Like you wanted to jump onto the table and snap her neck.”

Shuri scoffs and turns her gaze anywhere but at him, heart pounding away like she’s being hunted. 

“You're being ridiculous.”

“Shuri. You could at least look into my eyes when you're trying to be dishonest.”

She does as he says, crossing her arms. 

She swallows hard, mentally calculating how she could get away from this conversation without seeming rude. 

“This is ridiculous. Who really cares who Namor is dating ? Forget I said anything."

Calloused fingers come to hold her chin then, forcing her to meet the quiet desperation, longing and something like grief in Bucky’s eyes. 

Her breath hitches again.

“You, woman. You care too much.”

She shakes her head still.

“I don’t ”, she says with an almost pleading tone.

Bucky’s thumb traces the swell of one cheekbone then tickles the upward tilt of her nose, the one he says he finds adorable. 

“The painting above your fireplace, it’s Namor’s, right ?”

Her heart slams to a hilt. 

She swallows hard, her mind forming a picture of the beautiful piece Namor painted during their honeymoon in the heart of Yucatan. The piece depicts a peaceful scene of a fisher's village by the sea, right at breaking dawn.

It’s the most traditional art piece of her home, and now, Shuri is reminded of the time Bucky suggested trading it for something modern, like the other photographs and collage pieces she has all over the living room, during the time he renovated her house. 

“Tell me you didn’t feel a tiny fraction of satisfaction at what you saw today at the jewelry store.”

“Bucky-”

“Tell me you’re not dying to call your ex-husband so he calls off this entire relationship and he becomes available again.”

There's a tightness to his voice Shuri is not accustomed to hearing. 

She grounds her jaw, angling her body away from him and peering far ahead at life on the lane. Kids riding bicycles, neighbors chatting on their front porches, the occasional passing by of another car. 

Her hand comes up to her neck when she sees an elderly couple holding hands as they follow a toddler riding a tricycle. 

It's pure agony when her mind's eye pictures an older version of Namor walking side by side with her. 

Shuri almost shuts her eyes in anguish. 

She can’t get one word out as Bucky pierces through the veneer of her lies and unspoken desires.

“Tell me you don’t love him anymore, Shuri.”

Shuri feels the sting of tears in her eye. 

There's a silence. 

Bucky exhales a shaky breath then, bending to open the passenger’s door for her. 

He almost recoils from her touch when Shuri’s hand tries to reach for his. 

“Go home, Shuri. And call me when you find the answers your heart refuses to speak yet.”

She doesn’t dare look at his face the whole time she comes out of his car. 

-----------------------------------

"Girl, I’m begging you to take a summer vacation”, Riri grits, taking Shuri’s laptop away from her like a disappointed big sister even though Shuri towers over her. 

“I'm fine”, Shuri grumbles, crossing her arms immediately. 

“The hell you are ! You're driving everyone crazy around here and you look like you haven’t slept in a week. We're one slip up away from an HR report because of your attitude so whatever you have going on at home,  sort it during the summer before coming back.”

Shuri inhales a sharp breath, fists resting on her hips as she takes in the presentation of the Sunbird prototype projected on the wall. In her mind, something still doesn’t feel right with the editing of the flight simulation video. 

The project is a costly one with none other than Stark Industries backing her up in the financial aspect, and Shuri is yet again having second thoughts about this business partnership. The jet has been designed specifically for flight simulation in a space center in Europe but she knows Stark's representatives are eying the prototype for military uses. She needs to have a call with Tony himself. She’s been stalling it for quite some time anyway. 

Riri’s warning still makes her take a look at the poor intern that waits for the umpteeth detail adjustment from her with tired eyes and deflated shoulders. He looks like he has not slept in a week either. 

“Peter, just go home. Take the entire afternoon off”, Shuri orders with a sigh. 

“Are you sure ? If you need any modification, I could just-”

“Boy, just go home”, Riri groans, rolling her eyes.

“Yes Miss Williams.  Thanks Mrs Udaku”, he says, glasses unbalanced on the line of his nose and almost running away from the conference room. He almost dropped his case in the process. 

Riri then puts down the laptop. She pinches her nose in frustration. 

“Forget about the Sunbird. What’s going on ? Last time I checked, you were planning a honeymoon in the mountains with your new boyfriend”, she asks. 

Shuri gingerly sits on the edge of the long conference table. 

She doesn’t dare meet Riri’s eyes.

“We broke up.”

Riri gapes and immediately juts her lip at the announcement. Her slender arm comes around Shuri’s shoulder. 

“Girl, you should have told me…Is it because of GQ's man of the year's meddling ? You say the word and I will come with a baseball bat to break his knees.”

Shuri gives a humorless chuckle. 

“No need. Namor didn’t sabotage my relationship with Bucky. Turns out I'm perfectly able to do that on my own.”

“Ouch”, Riri says.

She gives Shuri a tight one armed hug before inching backwards. 

“Forget about these lame dudes anyway. You should go get your hot girl summer. I can even babysit my nephew while you go wild”, Riri smiles, wiggling her brows suggestively. 

Shuri shakes her head fondly before peering at the horizon behind the glass walls. 

“Tempting suggestion but it's gonna be a no from me.”

Riri acquiesces with a curt nod. “Why is that ?”

Shuri swallows hard. She figures she can be honest here at least, in the privacy of her conference room. 

“Bucky asked for a break. He's convinced I still have feelings for Namor”, she says.

“Took that boy 3 months to figure you out, he's not the sharpest tool in the shed if you ask me”, Riri says, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Riri !”

“What ?”

“You think I have feelings for Namor, you traitor”, Shuri hisses. 

“Girl, be for real. Everyone and their mama in this office knows there’s still something between you two even after your messy ass divorce. Everytime you guys are in the same room, even I can’t breathe right”, Riri says, clutching at invisible pearls. 

“You're too much”, Shuri deadpans. 

Riri nudges her with the tip of her heel against Shuri’s. 

“Tell me I'm wrong though. It’s not like I blame you either, your ex-husband looks hot as hell. He’s a little unhinged but very high on the sexy spectrum. Does he have tattoos ? Koko owes me 50 bucks if he doesn’t.”

Shuri swats her friend and associate's arm for that cheek, and the sound of three hard knocks on the door make the both of them startle and whip their heads at the origin of the commotion.

Nakia, one of their top engineers from the animatronics creative department, makes a discreet entrance through the door. 

“The receptionist is on a bathroom break and there's a doctor at the desk asking for Shuri.”

Riri whistles. “Goddamn girl, you move fast. A lawyer, a handyman and now a doctor ? You get busy eeeh”

Shuri glares at her friend. Nakia arches a skeptical brow. 

“Well unless Shuri is now swinging for the other team, I don’t think this is a conjugal visit”, she smiles. 

“What ?”, Riri says, completely puzzled.

Shuri gives thanks to Nakia, who gives a curt nod before disappearing from their view. 

Shuri tries to recollect her thoughts. She knows her mind will have to be as sharp as possible for what’s to come. 

There’s only one doctor who would go as far as to meet her in her workplace without announcing themselves beforehand.

“Why would a doctor meet you here ? Girl, are you pregnant ?”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “Nope. This is Namor’s girlfriend.”

Riri’s mouth gapes wide open.

“Careful. You could get a fly in here”, Shuri teases as she regroupe her belongings, and tucks her laptop away. 

Riri trails after her with an almost bounce in her steps, excited as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Everytime we talk about your personal life, it gets even spicier, damn ! If I were you, I'd capitalize on that with a podcast”, her friend says. 

They go through a maze of long corridors, cabins, labs and workstations before the familiar ping of the elevator signals their arrival on the first floor. 

“Why are you following me ?” Shuri hisses with a sharp glare over her shoulder.

Riri shrugs. “Cause I need to know what Cologne's new girlfriend looks like. For research purposes.”

Riri still has the decency to stop at the reception desk and pretend to be very intrigued with a small bonsai.

Sue Storm's figure is right near the entrance, fingers idly strumming at her phone. Her outfit looks like the typical corporate western camouflage, nothing like that bold red dress at Talokan. 

Shuri exhales through her nose before closing the distance between them. 

“Susan”, she says decisively. 

The doctor doesn’t seem to mind the use of the name that makes her feel like a centennial.

She shifts on her heels, looking a bit restless. 

“Shuri. We need to talk”, she says. 

“You could have called first”, Shuri counters, crossing her arms. 

“I didn't have your number”, the other woman says. 

“Namor does. You could have asked.”

“Trust me, I tried. He refused to give it to me.”

Shuri knits her brow at Sue’s answer. 

The doctor looks around them with suspicion.

“Could we go somewhere else ? This is not a discussion we should have while standing.”

Shuri nods, and furrows her brows at the sight of Riri very undiscreetly greeting a few visitors near the spot they’re standing at.

“See the Jaguar Café at the far end of the street ?”

Sue nods.  “Yeah, I'm parked around the corner there.”

“Good. I'll meet you there in ten minutes sharp.”

Sue Storm readjusts the sling to a small white handbag then. 

Shuri catches a gleaming diamond on her fourth finger. 

‐‐-------------------------------

They both sit across one another in one of the Jaguar Cafés more private booths, on their first floor. There's a burning hot mug of rooibos tea in front of Sue and matcha in front of Shuri  while she sits cross-armed, doing her damn hardest to bottle up all of her curiosity and resentment. Neither women touch their drinks.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation about whatever it is you saw at the mall”, Sue begins.

Shuri sets her mouth into a thin line, refusing to even interrupt Sue’s little tale. 

If Sue wants to get into her good grace, she’s gonna have to grovel too. She scrutinizes the other woman with a hard glare until her rapt attention pricks Sue enough to tell her story. 

“The man you saw with me at the mall, he’s my fiancé. Reed.”

Shuri’s eyes go wide. She feels her arms uncross slowly. 

“Excuse-me ?”

She searches for any traces of dishonesty through the doctor's stance. But Sue doesn’t shy away, keeping her gaze steady and her shoulders straight. Her voice is unwavering and clear as she keeps going.

“We were shopping for rings”, Sue trails, looking longingly at her hand and the crystal clear, pearl shaped diamond that adorned it. 

Shuri exhales shakily. “What does this even mean ? I saw you dancing with Namor. You guys were so touchy feely. How ?”

It's the one time Sue darts her eyes to the bustling street below. 

“Namor asked me to help”, she trails. 

Bile rises to Shuri’s throat. Namor asked for help.

Namor. 

The grown man who hates to look weak.

He did ask Sue Storm for help.  

“So he asked you to lie ?”, Shuri clarifies. 

Sue nods. “Yes”, she says reluctantly, “He said he needed to buy more time before telling you the truth.”

There's a dull ache in Shuri’s heart that becomes a throb the second Sue’s words reach her mind. 

She keeps silent for a moment, completely puzzled by the news, belly fluttering with almost excitement because Namor is not being cheated on. Namor is not dating a beautiful white woman named Susan Storm. Namor is not getting remarried. 

Namor didn’t give his mother’s bracelet to another woman.

It's a complicated mix of emotions. Shuri's silent excitement and the wave of relief that comes at Sue’s confession are soon tampered by the doctor's grim expression and the crease in her forehead.

Shuri gulps down.

“What's going on ?”

Sue inhales a sharp breath, and exhales something shaky and sorrowful that gives Shuri pause. 

“Sue, what the hell is going on with my ex-husband ? I need to know. We have a son together” Shuri insists, leaning forward to grip the edge of the table, and hating just how her voice breaks at the end. 

The doctor's eyes are damp with tears then. She looks down to her hands. 

Shuri awaits her answer just as much as she dreads it. 

A watery gaze levels with hers.

“What I'm about to tell you goes against all doctor and patient confidentiality rules...But as the mother of his son, I think you deserve the truth, and as Namor’s friend, I think it’s best he gets freed from this jail of secrecy as well."

Shuri’s heart is threatening to leap out her throat at Sue's next words :

"He’s dying, Shuri …"

Chapter Text

4 years ago

It’s daunting how some ink on paper could settle the dissolution of an entire marriage. Just one last writing to bury years of love, commitment and companionship like it meant nothing. There’s nothing fair about this but Shuri tries her best to seem composed and determined while Namor appears impatient and distant.

At first, she thought his lawyer self would have been difficult to deal with. She was mentally prepared for their divorce to drag for months or even years but for all his possessiveness, Namor has been surprisingly compliant the whole time, adhering to nearly all her requests concerning child custody, alimony, and the division of their assets. 

Like he just wants to get it over with anyway. 

And though Shuri was the one who filed the complaint first, her heart still bends out of shape as she watches Namor scribble his signature in silence. Something slender and elongated, just like his fingers. She’s also the one to pause when the clerk pushes the document towards her. She lets out a shaky breath, her hand gingerly rests on the top of the file.

Irreconcilable differences. That is the no fault-ground invoked as a legal reason for their separation, even though Shuri has a slew of reasons to explain the way their marriage fell like a house of cards.

The trauma of their car accident.

The two heart-wrenching deaths that led to the stranger's kid becoming an orphan. The constant arguing that followed because Namor couldn’t understand why Shuri saw the both of them as monsters, and he ended up resenting her for ‘playing the martyr’ in his own words. Her emotional detachment after that, Namor taking longer hours at work, their lack of intimacy. And above all, the disastrous effect their constant arguments had on their toddler. The quiet regression of Abha going from being potty trained at only 3 years of age to wetting the bed constantly. 

It occurs to Shuri that she’s still having doubts then. What if Namor and her were making the wrong decision ? What if they still had a chance somehow ?

“Can we…can we please take a last moment to talk ?”, she says out loud, surprising every other person in the room including herself.

Namor studies her face like she’s just lost her mind. The clerk looks back and forth between them before giving a quick head nod. His chair scrapes the floor and there’s a creak of wood as he leaves. 

There’s a hard exhale on Namor’s part.

“Shuri, what the hell are you playing at ? You’re the one who dragged me to court for a divorce.”

Her heart thuds hard.

She’s being unfair, she knows, but she has to take this one last chance.

“It's not that simple for me to just sign this, Namor. We've been through so much together…You were my whole life”, she trails, her hands joining like in a prayer. 

Shuri notices the hard gulp of his Adam’s apple. The way he grounds his jaw and stares as if he were in pain with just the sight of her. 

“We've been sure for months'', Namor sighs, “We've grown too much apart after that damn accident. I refuse to raise our son in a house that’s constantly aflame. We're better off going our own ways now.”

His answer breaks her heart, and the fragile veneer of her composure, her eyes full to the brim with unshed tears. 

“But what about us, Namor ? What about everything we were ?”

He pauses then, his expression softening slightly before he meets her gaze with determination.

“Things change, Shuri. We both know that.”

Shuri leans forward.

“I refuse to believe that what we had is completely gone. I still feel…It still feels like there’s something there…”

A flicker of hesitation crosses through Namor’s face. He  still ends up giving a heart-wrenching gaze. 

“Maybe... but I don’t think it will be enough, Shuri. Let’s be real honest with ourselves here. We haven’t been happy in a long time. We haven't had any kind of intimacy for months. Letting go is the best thing we can do at the moment, Itzia…I’m sorry.”

His words have the effect of a slap.

She feels the sting long after she’s signed the papers. 

----------------------------------------------

Shuri used to think the world stopped the day she divorced Namor.

But she was wrong.

Her world seems to stop now.

None of her blinking makes Sue’s figure disappear nor the anarchic stammer of her heart and a quick look at her surroundings confirms the harsh truth. The soft hum of the café still becomes a distant murmur.

This is not a nightmare. 

It’s worse than that. 

A world without Namor in it is simply incomprehensible. Unfathomable.

“He’s… dying ?”, Shuri echoes, the word feeling foreign and jarring on her tongue.

Her eyes stare deep into Sue’s, searching desperately for any sign that this is some kind of sick joke, some elaborate misunderstanding. But the doctor's s expression remains solemn and sincere.

“How ?”

Her voice is almost a whisper on the edge of breaking.

“How can he be dying ?”

Sue takes a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“It’s his heart, Shuri. He suffers from a rare disease. It’s… it’s unlike anything I've ever seen but it’s close to cardiomyopathy. His heart doesn’t pump blood as effectively as it should.”

Shuri feels the blood draining from her face, her fingers going numb as they clutch the edge of the table. A sudden wave of nausea hits her as the world spins. 

"How long has he known?", she asks after gulping hard, her voice hollow, "How long has Namor been keeping this from me ?"

Sue’s gaze softens. She looks filled with regret. 

“He’s known for a while… Almost a year actually.”

It takes everything in Shuri not to spill her hot drink on Sue Storm. 

A year. 

Namor has been suffering this alone for a year. And he didn’t think of disclosing the truth to her. Not even once. 

“He didn’t want to burden you, or anyone. Namor’s always been so proud. Told me he could handle this on his own. But this…” 

Sue shakes her head then, blinking back tears again.

 “This is something even he can’t fight alone. Noone should have to fight this alone.”

Shuri swallows hard as her thoughts race. A year. A whole year Namor carried this alone.

She thought back to every encounter then, every argument, every strange moment between them.

She realizes just how much she missed. How much he kept hidden beneath that regal, unyielding facade of his. The Serpent’s skin.

“He should have told me,” she says, more to herself than to Sue, “He should have— damn !” 

Her slender hands ball into tight fists, her knuckles turning white. Her frustration mingles with grief, with fear, with everything that makes her want to scream at the unfairness of the situation.

Sue reaches out a hand, hesitating just so before placing it on Shuri’s arm. 

“He didn’t want to hurt you, Shuri. Or your son. He thought he could find a way to beat this, that maybe Reed and I could help. But we’re slowly running out of time and resources here…”

Shuri pulls her arm away, and stares down at the untouched cup of matcha before her. The bitterness in her chest mirrors the bitterness she thinks the drink would have. 

"How long", she asks gingerly before swallowing hard, and blinking back tears, "How much time does he have ?"

Sue shuts her eyes for a few seconds. "Six months to two years from now. We can’t be too sure."

Shuri swallows a sob.

“So, what now ? What am I supposed to do with this ? Just sit by and watch him—”

She can't even finish her sentence.

“ No...  ,” Sue says, “You don’t just sit by, Shuri. You need to make the most of whatever time Namor has left. He may not want to admit it but he needs you. And he  needs to make peace with his past. There may still be something we can do as well. Some way to slow the progression of that illness. But you have to be prepared for the worst..."

Shuri’s mind races. She isn’t ready to lose Namor. Not like this. Not after everything they've been through. And dear God, what will their little boy become without his father’s love ? 

The thought of Abha feeling alone and abandoned breaks Shuri's heart into a million pieces then.

“I will talk to him,” she says, her voice steadier now, laced with determination, “I have to.”

Sue nods. “I suppose he's also working at the moment."

Shuri shakes her head no, and her voice comes out hollow.

"Not now. Not today. I don’t think I'm ready to face him about this today." 

"I understand", Sue says, "It’s a lot to take in and you need to take as much time as you need to digest the news. If you need anything-"

"Don't tell Namor you told me the truth", Shuri gruffs.

Sue blinks then, utterly stunned. 

"Shuri...I don’t understand."

Shuri gives a stuttering breath, and finds her resolve.

Not now. She can't face Namor just yet. And to be honest, she needs a little time to go over that fake girlfriend stunt he pulled just for the sake of keeping his health status a secret. 

This time, she’s the one who reaches for Sue Storm's hand. The one adorned with the diamond ring offered by her fiancé.

"Don’t tell him I know about everything. Keep the silly blonde girlfriend act if you need."

Sue scoffs.

"Shuri, you can’t be serious."

"I really am. We both know Namor is a hardass. He will definitely close the door on you if he learns you told me the truth. So keep pretending. You’re quite talented at this", Shuri growls.

She scrambles out of her chair then, sliding the sling of her bag over her shoulder with febrile hands.

"This will not end well", Sue says with a disappointed sigh. 

“I know", Shuri retorts. 

Her heart clenches at the thought of Namor.

The proud father.

The fierce lawyer.

The loyal friend.

Shuri refuses to imagine it. A world without him is impossible. She doesn’t want it.

She’s not ready to see him fade away. To lose him to vulnerability. 

Her legs shake, and her is voice brittle as she gathers enough sense to thank Sue Storm for her troubles.

She has no idea of what she will even say to her ex-husband, or how she can even begin to process all of this.

There is one thing for certain though. 

Shuri is not going to let Namor face this alone.

----------‐-----------------------------

She passes a  cargo van on the lane before parking in her own driveway, replaying the daunting conversation she had with Sue Storm over and over and over until the doctor’s words practically feel tattooed beneath her eyelids. 

Namor is dying, and for the first time in Shuri’s life, her heart speaks louder than her reason as she makes a silent prayer to any deity available to save this man. This impossible man who used to be her best friend and lover. The father of her darling son.

Shuri thinks a world without Namor in it is simply unfathomable.

When she collects herself enough to get out of her SUV, she notices a few neighbors are regrouped outside to peer at the new attraction of the day. She quickly determines what focuses all of their attention then : the same cargo van that Shuri barely remembered overtaking is now parked right in front of what used to be Old Stan’s home. 

They beckon her to approach, and after picking up the handbag that was resting on her passenger’s seat and a kraft bag filled with groceries, Shuri mindlessly drags her feet to the impending small talk session, arms full and brain empty save for thoughts of Namor’s impending demise. She hates small talk but some mindless gossip could be just the right distraction today.

Despite the sun that beats down on the asphalt, Agatha is holding a steaming mug of coffee in the middle of the afternoon. Shuri thinks that if gossip spreads like wildfire in their neighborhood, the woman is both the match and the gasoline. And today, the main culprit is accompanied by none other than two more ladies and lurkers : May Parker alias Aunt May, a retired photographer, and Darcy Lewis, a young political science student who still lives with her parents. 

“Shuri, we don’t see you at poker anymore, it’s been ages ! Is our favorite handyman that possessive that he doesn’t wanna let you out of the house ?” Agnes complains, though Shuri can tell from that flicker of interest in her gaze that the other woman already suspects that Bucky and her have broken up. That’s what she gets for deciding to move in this damn picket-face place anyway. 

There’s an awkward silence. Shuri tightens her hold on her groceries and tries to make her next words sound as nonchalant as possible. 

“Just in case you guys didn’t know, Bucky is fed up with me. We’ve broken up”, she finally grits with a tone that doesn’t invite any comment. 

May is quick to trade subjects then. “We’re spying on the new neighbors moving in”, she offers. 

Shuri gives a polite smile. “Yeah I heard Old Stan finally decided to sell. It’s been really quick though. I barely had the time to say goodbye.”

The four women exchange a knowing smile at the thought of the old veteran who loved to moan and groan but still wore his heart on his sleeve, and never made a public appearance without a pair of sunglasses on. 

“I wonder what our new neighbors look like”, Shuri says. 

“I’ve seen them ”, Darcy replies excitedly, “These two really look alike so they’re basically a real life game of Siblings or Dating . I’m not sure yet. They don’t look particularly affectionate. All I know is the guy is built like a damn tank and the girl looks like she eats nails for breakfast.”

“Osborne saw them visit the other day. I heard they were Mexicans ”, Agatha adds before taking a sip of her hot drink, earning a pointed gaze from Shuri, “ What ?”

Shuri is about to clock her for that very specific comment when she gets distracted by the familiar rumble of a jaguar’s engine in the distance. Her sentence freezes on her tongue at the sight of Namor’s sleek vehicle parking right in front of the moving van. Then her ex-husband comes out of his expensive sports car in his usual summer outfit, a simple white tee tucked into tailored pants.  

Her blood almost curls . There’s a feminine gasp which is not her own when her full bag of groceries thuds hard down the ground, cassava, green plantains and eggplants spilling out, but Shuri couldn’t give a single fuck about the damage. She’s already walking down the lane in jerky steps, ignoring her neighbor's words of alarm. 

“Namor !”, she shouts to get his attention. 

Her insufferable ex still has the gall to look satisfied with himself, and even with all she knows about his condition, Shuri wants to wipe that fucking smug expression off his face. 

“What the hell !?” Shuri exclaims, “ What are you doing here ? Please don’t tell me you’re the one moving in. I will lose my mind ! ”

Namor shrugs, a small smile stretches his lips. “Well hello to you too, woman. And calm down before you jump on your high horse. I’m not the one moving in.”

Shuri’s shoulders deflate a little until he goes on. “I just bought it. Attuma and Namora are the ones who will be living there.”

She’s more than taken aback, wondering if she just entered the twilight zone and how to break out of it before finishing in a straight jacket. She crosses her arms in irritation, giving Namor a hard glare as she speaks.

“Your cousins moving in my neighborhood ? And you didn't even think to mention this to me ?  Care to explain why ?”

“Well, you see, I've acquired this lovely property from a veteran that kept it military clean for years. Thought I'd expand my horizons by looking into flipping houses and in the meantime, I’m renting the place to my dear cousins.”

“I can't believe you're bringing your family to this neighborhood without even consulting me”, Shuri groans.

Shuri knows the duo will stick out in the picket fence neighborhood like a sore thumb. Attuma is too big, too loud and has a penchant for strutting around half-naked.  As for Namora, her personality is too abrasive for their tight-knit community, and when her nosiest neighbors finally make the link between the lot of them, Shuri is certain she will never hear the end of it. Ever . 

The whole point of coming to this neighborhood was to start over. Of course Namor has found another way to insert his big head in the quiet equilibrium of her life.

Namor knits his brow then, peering at the movers handiwork before his voice gets slightly lower with irritation and pulls her out of her thoughts. 

“What are you implying, Shuri ?”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. Your cousins aren’t very… discreet. ”

“And why would they be ?”

She quickly glances over her shoulder at her neighbors, who she can tell have regrouped whatever they could salvage from her groceries. Before she can collect her thoughts and give a more composed answer, a gruff voice pierces through the air to catch Namor’s attention, something about a fridge, and he barks an order right back. 

“Let me guess”, Namor deadpans, crossing the thick brawn of his arms “You wanted to be the only one to spice up this neighborhood.”

Shuri scoffs. “Of course not ! I just think it’s a tad too convenient for your cousins to move into my neighborhood instead of yours . You live closer to Talokan anyway !”

“Shuri, these two saw the house on an ad and they liked it. Your presence with Abha here is only an added bonus. Besides, they wanted to surprise you guys.”

“A surprise ? Then why does it feel like a damn invasion ?”, Shuri splutters.

“It will be good for our son to have people that can help him stay in touch with his roots on the lane”, Namor says more softly this time.

She almost squints, her hands closing into tight fists. She knows damn well why Namor isn’t the one to become her new neighbor. But he has to say it . He has to be truthful and stop whatever little act he got going on. 

“Why not you then ?”, she tries.

“Why not me ?”

“It could have been you in this house, living on the same street as Abha. Why didn’t you take this opportunity ?”

There’s a flash of something that makes his dark eyes widen just so. Shuri doesn’t wanna admit it could be terror. Namor soon schools his features into his usual smirk and half-lidded stare.

“If you want me to live closer to you, itzia , just say that . I could make it happen”, he drawls, flirting as a way out like he always does.

Before Shuri can answer anything, the familiar rumble of a low baritone breaks the air, cutting through the electricity between Namor and her.  Her eyes widen at the sight of its owner as they come out the house, hands filled with a cloth covered in grease and dust. 

He gingerly stops at the top of the small stairs that lead to the porch, mouth closed in a small line. Shuri ignores his polite nod, preferring to stare with damp, tired eyes at him instead because of course, of fucking course, her other ex is there too. 

Bucky clears his throat painfully before speaking, and pointing at the house. Shuri’s head buzzes so much she feels like she’s under a tunnel. A discussion between both men about old grout and replacing handles completely goes over her head. She couldn’t care less. All she can think about is how all the men in her life seem very keen on keeping her out of the loop these days. 

It’s too much for her to take then. Her shoulders start shaking with tremors of anger and resentment at the unfairness of everything. She huffs with barely contained anger before meeting Namor’s gaze then Bucky’s. 

“Namor. We’re not done talking about this”, she grits.

“What is there to talk about ? You’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting ?”

“Yes, you are. You’ll get plenty of free babysitting with Namor and Attuma in the neighborhood and you still find a way to be mad at me somehow.”

Shuri is so angry she blinks a few times before finally pointing an accusing finger at his face. 

“What the hell is wrong with you ? You better not show up everyday just because your cousins are gonna live here ! I have the right to my privacy !”

Namor arches a brow. “Fine by me. You won’t be seeing my face soon anyway so don’t start thinking I will be tailing you day in and out.”

The last sentence makes her lower her hand, and cross her arms defensively. She gulps hard. Is he finally gonna come out loud and clear right now ? In the middle of the road ?

“Good”, Shuri lies, “Care to tell us why ?”

She doesn’t miss the cautious look Namor gives Bucky before replying, and something definitely cracks in her chest. She searches for Bucky’s gaze herself and finds something like sorrow there that makes her want to scream and pull out her hair. 

“I should get going”, Bucky says softly, as if to appease her. It’s not working though. He goes back inside the house in silence. 

“I’m moving to Yucatan”, Namor says as if he were talking about something as mundane as the weather. 

Lying bastard

Shuri blinks again, giving a humorless laugh. “You gotta be joking.”

Namor shakes his head, and hides his hands in his pockets. “I’m not, Shuri. I’m moving out of the country actually.”

Her tender heart sinks. Moving out of the country . Another lie yet a beautiful metaphor for a beautiful liar. Her nails dig moons in her palms then. She gulps hard.

“When ?” she asks, hesitant and guarded. Namor slightly darts his eyes to neighboring trees before giving her an answer.

“6 months to two years from now”, he gruffs, finally meeting her eyes. 

Shuri releases a shaky breath. That’s exactly the time frame Sue gave her concerning what was left of his life expectancy.  She doesn’t even know what to feel anymore. Doesn’t understand his schemes and manipulative tactics when he could just talk to her. 

Communicate . 

But as her eyes linger on her watch, she notices it’s the time to pick Abha up from his after-school art club. 

God knows what state she’ll be in when she has to tell her baby boy about Namor’s passing someday. 

“I gotta go pick Abha”, she says. 

“You look like you need to rest”, Namor counters, “I’ll pick him.”

His tone is assertive and on any other day, Shuri would have made a quick rebuttal about proper schedules and visitation rights. But she desperately wants to take him up on his offer this time, because God knows how precious the time spent between Namor and their son is now. 

“Fine. Go pick him. Could you also arrange something to eat for him ? I need a little time alone this evening. I'll pick him up at yours before nine.”

Namor looks her up and down cautiously then. If he has any suspicion about her knowing the truth of his condition, he doesn’t even hint at it, only nodding in quiet acknowledgement. 

“Alright. I'll get going. Just don’t make a habit out of it, Shuri. You know how much kids need their routine.”

Shuri shuts her eyes in annoyance, and soothes the back of her tense neck. 

“Unless you need an occasion to talk to James over here. Just make sure you don’t do it when he’s still on my payroll.”

“Just go.”

----------------------------------------------

Namor’s penthouse is a luxurious thing  with large windows offering a stunning view of the city skyline. A blend of modern elegance and subtle nods to his mesoamerican heritage.

Shuri stands nervously at the door, her eyes blazing with irritation the minute she recognizes his tall frame at the threshold yet their darling son is nowhere to be seen. 

She always tries to keep her visits at Namor’s penthouse no nonsense, short and straight to the point. A rule she has made for herself the minute she signed the divorce papers. A rule designed to protect herself from seeing any woman he would potentially bring home, and if she’s honest, she doesn’t wanna wither in the snake's lair because she doesn’t trust herself either. 

That man has too damn much effect on her even after all these years. 

“Hi”, she says, barely able to meet his gaze for once, “Is Abha ready to go ?”

“Hi”, he says, tone showing just a hint of mirth at her nervousness, “Our son is taking a shower. It won’t be long.”

Shuri hesitates at first but it’s not like she has any other option but to enter Namor’s lair and wait. Hopefully, she won't find any lace panties from one of his conquests nor anything that could possibly remind her of a feminine presence in his life. 

“Please, come in”, he says, and Shuri gingerly follows suit.

His home is beautifully decorated, as always, and Shuri notices a new frame lining an entire wall in the living room. The feathered serpent that used to be there is now replaced what looks like an hymn to the sea.

Wafts of spices gently fill her nostrils as she makes herself comfortable. She sits on his massive angled couch, her posture relaxed but her eyes still reflecting the complexity of the situation.

Namor is in the kitchen, putting the last touches to what looks like a quick dinner.

The atmosphere is filled with an undercurrent of familiarity and tension, and somehow, Shuri just doesn’t know how to breach the subject of his dishonesty, and the impending doomsday that awaits their family.

“Want something to drink while we wait ?”, he offers, cutting off her spiraling thoughts.

“Water’s fine, thanks”, she breathes.

Namor hands her a glass and sits on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining a respectful distance. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the distant sound of water running from the bathroom. Her mind easily takes a trip down memory lane.

“He’s getting so independent", she says, "I barely recognize the baby boy he used to be."

“He's growing up fast. Too fast sometimes", Namor echoes.

“Remember when he used to refuse to take a bath unless one of us was there to tell him stories?”

“How could I forget ? Especially his Little Mermaid phase. He did make me wear that awful red wig for story time. And last year's Halloween, he wanted us to buy him a wheelchair just so he could be Professor X."

They both give fond chuckles at the memories.

“He’s always been so curious", Shuri smiles.

“He gets that from you”, Namor says, “your big thirst for knowledge.”

“And his stubbornness? Definitely your DNA.”

Namor laughs, and she finds herself drinking in the sound, saving it for future memory. A territory she will visit often.

"Guilty as charged, princess."

Then he sobers a little, and searches for her gaze.

“We were a good team, Shuri”, he says after a while. 

Shuri glances away, her smile slightly fading as her mind actively spirals with thoughts of him. 

“We were… But things change.”

Namor nods. “I guess they do. But some things do stay the same. Like how much we both love him.” 

Shuri gives a satisfied hum. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to us.”

“No argument there. He’s our whole world.”

They lapse into a thoughtful silence again, the sound of the shower turning off signaling that Abha is almost done.

Shuri searches for his gaze.

“Do you ever wonder what things would have been like if we hadn’t...?”

She doesn’t even know where to begin. Will things would have been different if not for their accident ? That fateful stop sign being down in the night, and another car careening into theirs at full speed because of it. Or perhaps they would still be together if not for how bad she felt in the aftermath. The idea they were responsible for the other couple's death. For the orphaning of a child. At the time, she felt awful  and she made him feel the same in return. 

Namor interrupts her gently.

“I think about it a lot. All the time actually... But we can’t change the past. We can only do our best for Abha now.”

Shuri smiles though it’s fragile.

“You’re right. It’s just... I miss those moments sometimes. The three of us together.”

“Me too, itzia. But we’re still a family, even if it looks different now.”

Shuri hesitates for a moment before reaching out and lightly putting her hand above Namor’s. He twitches slightly but doesn’t move an inch away from her. 

“You’re right. We are.”

He looks at her thoughtfully and her heartbeat picks up speed.

“Shuri, I heard about you and James... I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

Shuri slowly releases his hand then. She sighs, looking down at her half empty glass.

“Yeah, well, sometimes things just don’t go the way you expect.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened ?”

She shrugs, sadness in her eyes. She gives a stuttering sigh before looking into Namor’s eyes again. Is it still of use to lie now ? 

She doesn’t think so.

So she gives him the honest truth instead.

“He isn’t you.”

Namor clenches his jaw at her answer, gaze turning slightly thunderous. He looks like he’s on the brink of saying something, his intensity threatening to topple over. 

“It just wasn’t right”, Shuri goes on, "We wanted different things. And, honestly, I think I’m still figuring out what I want.”

Namor nods. “Relationships can be complicated things. Messy. It’s never easy, especially after...everything.

Shuri sighs. “Yeah. It’s hard to move on from what we had. Not that I regret all of it, and your big head better not inflate after this, but it does set a high bar, you know ?

Namor gives her a warm smile.

“We did get up to all kinds of sexy time, didn’t we?

Shuri snorts. 

The bathroom door opens then, and Abha, now in his pajamas, runs into the living room, his hair still damp and his face lighting up with excitement at the sight of his mother.

“Mama, can we stay for dinner please ! Baba made salmon omelet, it's my favorite ! Please .”

Shuri smiles fondly at her darling boy. Of course her son is fond of the same dish she used to ask Namor to make for her all the time when she was pregnant. At the time, it was the perfect ersatz to satiate the love of sushis she’s been deprived of for months. 

Normally, Shuri would have stuck to a tight schedule but knowing what she knows now about Namor’s condition, she just doesn’t have it in her to deny Abha.

And if Namor finds her attitude strange, he doesn’t mention it. 

--------------------------------------------

The following day, she clears her morning schedule from any appointment to drive to Talokan and search for answers.

Attuma knows she knows the minute she walks into the place with decisive steps and asks for a shot of mezcal before sitting on a stool. Namor’s cousin doesn’t say anything about the weather, and doesn't point out how early it is in the morning. His only answer is a slight widening of the eyes and a simple nod. 

Shuri watches him in silence, eyes intently focused on his careful preparation of one of her favorite shooters. Two ounces of mezcal followed by fine salt, a slice of lime and a slice of ripe orange. She gulps it down in one go under his watchful stare, and the small glass makes a popping noise when it collides with the countertop. 

“Why didn’t you tell me anything ?” she asks him point blank.

There’s a slight beat of hesitation before he replies.

“About Namor’s condition or the house ?”

Shuri sniffs in annoyance. “Both, you fool. You should have said something !”

“Can't have Daddy cut my allowance”, he shrugs, “And I think it’s actually cool that we’re gonna become neighbors…”

“Ttuma …”

He sighs before looking away.

“Shuri, it just wasn’t my place to say anything, okay ? Namor made it very clear he didn’t want you to know he was sick. He thought he could handle it on his own, and he wanted to protect you.”

“Protect me ? By lying to me? By pretending he had some ridiculous affair with Sue Storm ?!”

She pushes the shooter glass towards him.

“Another one”, she grits.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Shuri. It’s barely eleven.”

“Again”, she insists, and Attuma winces and pours a small amount of mezcal into her shooter. 

“Told him this plan was going to backfire on him…”, he trails off. 

He waits for her to finish gulping down before his gentle and firm voice wraps around her like a comforting blanket. 

“Shuri, you need to know he was desperate. He thought making you angry would be better than seeing you heartbroken over the news.”

Shuri quickly blinks away the tears welling up her eyes, focusing on the warmth blooming in her chest and throat because of the alcohol instead.

“And you went along with it ? You just helped him lie to me ? I thought we were family”, she says, meaning every word because despite the divorce, Attuma has never ceased behaving like an older brother to her.

Shuri knows it’s quite hypocritical of her to demand that kind of loyalty to him after distancing herself so much. 

“We are ”, he says, hesitating just so before reaching for her hand, “We are family, Shuri. But you know Namor better than anyone else... he’s always been the stubborn type. He didn’t want to be seen as weak, especially not by you. He thought he was sparing you.”

“Sparing me ? He is my ex-husband. We have a son together ! I could have helped him all this time but instead, I’m being kept in the dark like an idiot !”

Attuma lowers his gaze at her accusing tone.

“I know. And I’m sorry. I should have trusted you to handle the truth. Namor's pride just clouds his judgment sometimes..."

Shuri takes a deep breath then, slowly regaining her composure. Her hands smooth her blazer as she regroups her thoughts.

“Okay. We can’t change what’s been done but we need to focus on helping him now. If there’s anything that can be done, anything at all, I need to know. If we’re a family, we need to face this together. ”

Attuma nods, and his gaze is full of sincerity when it meets hers.

“I’m no doctor, Shuri, just a brother hoping for a miracle. And as for the best way to help Namor, letting him spend more quality time with Abha seems to be the way to go. Speaking about together …”

“Yes ?”

“Are you guys…?”

Shuri crosses her arms. She knows exactly where that line of questioning is going and she will not give him the satisfaction of filling in the blanks.

“Just spit out the damn question.”

Attuma shrugs.

“It’s none of my business but things seem pretty tense between you two.”

“Again : we’re divorced.”

“ More tense than usual . Did something happen recently between Namor and you ?”

Her senses suddenly get flooded by a mental picture of Namor caging her into a wall and his distinct scent filling her nostrils. The softness of his lips against her throat. The almost kiss they shared while knowing Bucky and Sue were inside the restaurant. 

They were both fools and foul for that. 

Shuri feels like she’s an even bigger one for the amount of times she replayed that incident over and over in her mind. 

Attum hums, an ironic smile stretched on his lips, and he busies himself by wiping perfect clean glasses. Shuri feels a pang of shame at the idea of him having witnessed all of that because while Attuma is a huge man, he can also be quite stealthy when he really wants to. 

“And technically, you guys are both single at the same time”, he says.

The loud ping of her phone thankfully disrupts a silence full of innuendos. Shuri quickly scans the device to find two missed calls from Riri and an alarming text that makes her heart skip a beat.

Stark is on his way and he needs to see you.

“I’m sorry Attuma, duty calls, I gotta go ! And please, don''t tell Namor’s big head that I know about the truth. I want to grill him myself first”, she says, tucking her phone away in her bag. 

Attuma’s brows shoot up to his hairline at her demand but he doesn’t protest.

“I'll give you a ride”, he says instead, and Shuri gives a slight frown.

“No need. I'm not-”

“Please, Shuri. I insist. You just had two shots, it’s not safe for you to drive. Let me do something nice for you.”

His sentence gives her pause but she ends up slowly nodding to his proposition.

The ride to her headquarters is a little suffocating, especially on her side, so she keeps her eyes fixed on the road ahead as they drive, her fingers nervously tapping against her knee.

Attuma’s hands grip the steering wheel tight, and his jaw is clenched. He looks like he’s wrestling with something he wants to say but can’t find the right words for just yet.

Shuri finds no comfort in the late morning light casting shadows on the dashboard.

He keeps glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and after a few minutes, he finally breaks the silence. 

“Shuri, about what we talked about earlier… I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Shuri remains silent, her mind elsewhere, but she gives him a small nod to acknowledge his words without fully engaging. 

He continues then, with a tone tinged with regret.

“I know I should have been more honest with you. I should have had your back.”

She inhales deeply. Tries to let go of the anger that’s simmering just beneath the surface.

“We’ve already talked about this, Attuma. I just need to focus on what comes next. On how we can help Namor.”

He nods, but the guilt doesn’t leave his eyes. 

“I get it. I just don’t want you to think that you’re alone in this. We’re all in this together, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

Shuri turns to him then, her gaze softening slightly.

“I know. But I can’t afford any more surprises, Attuma. Not now. Not anymore.”

He offers a weak smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No more surprises. And I promise I won’t tell Namor that you know.”

The rest of the ride passes in silence, the only sound being the steady hum of the car engine. 

She’s quick to unbuckle her seatbelt when they finally arrive at her headquarters, and reaches fast for the door handle.

Before she can step out, Attuma places a hand on her arm.

“Shuri ,” he says, his voice low and earnest, “if there’s anything you need—anything at all—just call me, okay ? No matter what.”

She hesitates for a moment before nodding. There’s such an urgency in his voice that she wonders what exactly Namor demanded from his cousins when it comes to her. 

“Thanks, Attuma. I appreciate it.”

He lets go of her arm, and Shuri climbs out of the car. Her heels click sharply against the pavement. 

She can still feel his eyes on her as she walks away, watching her until she disappears into the building. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The steaming mug of coffee almost looks miniature sized cradled in Attuma's giant hands, and Shuri stands by the counter, pouring herself another cup.

Her eyes narrow as she shoots a glance at the guest who invited himself in on a lazy sunday morning.

“What's all this talk going around about a housewarming party ?”

Attuma flashes her a wide grin. His excitement is almost infectious as he leans forward.

“It’s simple ! Namora and I just moved into the neighborhood, and we want to invite you neighbors to celebrate ! And that includes you."

Shuri raises a skeptical brow.

“Who the hell is we ? Because I'm pretty sure Namora didn’t ask for this."

He snorts.

“Fine. You got me. It’s all me,” he says, shaking his head, “I want to meet the neighbors, even the nosiest ones. I’ve never lived in a picket fence neighborhood before. I think it’s time for me to spice things up a bit !”

Shuri chuckles at the thought of him mingling with the suburban crowd. She brings her cup to her lips.

“Spice things up, huh ? You almost gave May a coronary the other day while fixing your car half- naked."

He bursts into laughter at her commentant, and the sound is deep and genuine. Shuri welcomes it with a small smile. She’s running out of reasons to smile these days. Wounds from yesterday mingle with new ones. She feels grateful for Attuma’s distractions.

Things haven’t really shifted between Namor and her, since the day she forced a confession out of him. He barely talks about the results of his weekly check-ups with Sue Storm. He doesn’t involve her in anything concrete regarding his health status. In fine, it doesn’t feel like much else has changed, except he doesn’t pretend to have a girlfriend anymore.

Shuri doesn’t know herself what she really expects Namor to do. The man is already living on borrowed time. She guesses her feelings and emotions as an ex-wife are not as paramount to him s they could have been if the two of them were still together.

Riri’s words even come back to her. She has been nothing but supportive ever since Shuri shared the truth of Namor’s condition. Her best friend has said words with a voice slurred by wine and tiredness, but they somewhat got a quiet wisdom to them.

Screw the past, Shuri.  Screw everything.

Screw him.

“Actually, I got the wrong target...", Attuma says, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts.

Her brows shoot up her hairline and she almost drinks her coffee wrong . She coughs and puts the mug back on the counter, and draws closer to her marbletop.

"Can you not wait a few more months before going around breaking everyone's hearts ?" He frowns, crosses his arms, and almost looks like a petulant child then.

"That’s not my intention ! It’s just that there’s someone who’s been watching me a lot and I'm starting to watch them back."

"Who ?"

Shuri’s mind still reels back to the day Namora and him officially moved in. It's too easy to uncover. She finds no other neighbors but Aunt May, Agatha and Darcy hovering around.

She knows she should have seen it coming. Darcy looked way too intrigued.

"Never mind, scratch that. You will not date any of my neighbors", she says.

Attuma raises a brow.

"Who said anything about dating ? I like my hedonistic lifestyle."

Shuri peers at Abha playing with legos far ahead, and leans in to whisper as low as possible.

"More like whoring around."

He fakes an offended gasp, and unlike her, he speaks louder to raise Abha’s attention.

"Your mama doesn’t like people who are prettier than she is", he says before winking.

Shuri shakes her head, another small smile tugging at her lips.

“You really need to tone it down.”

“Come on, Shuri. Come to the housewarming ? I promise it will be fun."

His eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, and he leans forward again, the mug still full, and practically forgotten in his hands.

“And please tell me you’ll bring someone with you, other than just your son.”

She arches a skeptical brow, and crosses her arms.

“I’ll come alone. And stop trying to put your big nose in my personal life. I’m not looking for a date or a plus one.”

“Fine, fine,” Attuma says before he holds his hands in mock surrender, “Just thought it’d be nice to see you out, maybe meet someone new.”

“I’m not the one who needs to meet someone,” Shuri says firmly, though a hint of amusement lingers in her tone.

But all trace of amusement leave at his next words.

"Do you mean my cousin ? I guess he could use meeting someone new. Let me think about it."

Shuri blinks stupidly.

"What- What do you mean ?", she says, her voice cracking before she pulls herself together.

Attuma stares right into her soul before he shrugs.

"You know Namor is not a dead man yet ? So he still has desires and appetites. And I wish he could hold on to something real. Make whatever life he has left a little more sweet..."

Shuri blinks away a picture of Namor lying hot and bothered in bed with another woman.

It makes her clench her jaw. But Attuma doesn’t let up. She bets he knows exactly what he is doing.

"Guess it's my duty as cousin to make that happen", he smiles.

But the smile doesn’t reach his eyes this time. In fact, he looks at her with a mix of pity and sadness.

There’s something else too. Something that looks like a dare. Shuri gulps down hard.

She doesn’t want to have her affections for Namor be so open.

“I’m sure you will manage,” she replies and her expression softens, “Just keep your shirt on, okay ?”

“Deal,” he says with a smirk.

Then he raises his mug in mock salute.

--------------------------

Namor promised to tell their son the truth himself.

Shuri can tell from the spring in Abha’s steps as he almost jogs to give her a hug that their fishing trip went very smoothly, and that fateful father-son talk didn’t happen. 

She bends to give her darling boy a sweet kiss before he scrambles past her to the house. And her heart thuds at the sight of Namor.

He looks slightly different now. There’s less of a glow in his bronze skin, and he looks like he hasn’t slept well in days. He lost a little weight too though his broad frame is still a testimony to his swimmer's build.

"Sorry for being late."

Shuri crosses her arms. She’s not even angry. She just needs to keep herself from hugging him tight.

"You’re excused", she smiles, "How did your father-son date go ?"

Namor grounds his jaw.

He averts his gaze to the perfectly manicured lawn of a neighbor then.

"It went well. Our boy is a natural. He just loves being in the heart of nature."

Shuri nods.

"Great then...And did you guys talk ?"

He has a such a sad smile then. Her breath hitches, and she’s the one to avoid his piercing gaze.

"It’s gonna happen, Shuri. But it needs to be at the right time and place", he drawls.

We don’t have the time, she wants to say. But she contains her frustration and gives a graceful nod instead. It is not her place to press Namor about this specific subject. Especially when

she’s hardly accepted his fate herself. She has a mind to trade subjects then.

"Are you coming to your cousin’s housewarming ?" Namor gives a faint snicker.

"Of course I am. I paid this house", he says, then tilts his head to study her. His attention makes her warm. Too warm.

She almost hugs herself to soothe the ache of not having him.

"Speaking about the house, I made some arrangements for the future today. With my lawyer."

Her knees almost give out. She swallows hard to keep the bile at bay.

"Your lawyer...?"

"Yeah. For the division of my assets. For the people I love and care about."

His dark eyes peer into her soul then.

She blinks repeatedly, and hates how damp her voice comes out. It betrays the cracks settled deep in her.

"Isn’t that a little premature ?", she says. Namor smiles.

"The clock is ticking for me, woman. It’s never too early for this stuff. And I might call for your help once the moment to arrange my funeral comes", he says, voice softer than anything she’s ever heard from him.

Shuri realizes just how much she loves him then.

This beautiful man, and his tender heart hidden deep in his oceans of charisma and confidence.

Her head is down when she answers a breathy yes despite how unready she feels for all this.

She feels his fingers tuck her chin to force her to look back right at him.

"Promise me, Shuri", he drawls, "Promise me you’ll help me say a proper good bye."

He doesn’t let up until she nods and another damp response creaks out of her mouth. He smiles then. Something bittersweet and genuine.

It breaks her heart even more.

I love you, she wants to say, but he's already walking past her to get to their son and hug him goodbye.

And soon, Namor is already walking to his jaguar.

His broad, suited back fills her blurry vision.

---------------------------------

The entire evening is a haze and Shuri moves through it like she’s underwater, everything feeling muffled and distant. A mess of smiling faces, soft gossip, and dancing. So much dancing.

She knows her smile is too tight for the occasion, her answers too matter-of-fact and laconic. She knows it yet she can’t do anything about it.

The pain is still too searing. Too sharp.

She’s doing her best and tonight, her best means hugging the walls. It means picking at food like a baby bird, and cradling a glass of wine she’s barely even touched.

She is not in the mood for celebrations, but Attuma has been insistent.

It’s his housewarming party, after all, and he seems to find no problem with the awkwardness of becoming neighbors with his cousin’s ex-wife.

So there she is, for his sake and Namora’s, and Abha too. Her son is having the time of his life running around with some kids and Shuri watches him play, the sound of his laughter a brief balm to her heart. Though it’s not enough to settle the heaviness in her chest entirely.

Namora even fares better than she expected, managing to handle their nosy neighbors and their intrusive questions with grace. She’s polite but guarded, a cool smile in place that says she’s not to be trifled with.

Shuri is grateful for that at least. She doesn’t have the energy to deflect all the questions about her and Namor, about what happened, and why she’s here.

And then there’s the impossible man himself.

Namor arrived late and now he's moving through the crowd like he’s at the center of it, because of course he is.

Her eyes keep finding him no matter where she stands.

Namor is dancing right now. His movements are fluid and graceful. He doesn’t look like he’s carrying the weight of a deadly illness.

He doesn’t look like he’s dying. He's beautiful and it makes her heart twist and ache.

How can he do this ?

How can he be here, dancing and laughing, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world, when their world is falling apart ?

She takes a sip of her wine then. She hopes it will dull the edges of her pain, but it doesn’t work.

Nothing does. Not tonight.

And Shuri doesn’t wanna do this anymore. She's too brittle tonight. It feels like one wrong word, one more smile, and she’ll shatter in her entirety.

She still can’t look away from Namor. From the way he throws his head back and laughs at something ridiculous Attuma says. From the way he twirls an elderly neighbor around, his sharp eyes bright, his grin wide and carefree.

He’s always been like this. Always larger than life, always taking up space with his presence, filling the room with his charisma. Now, it almost feels like he’s mocking her anticipatory grief with his smile, with his laughter, with the way he moves like the illness isn’t eating him from the inside out.

She feels a tear slip down her cheek and wipes it away quickly as she can. She glances around to see if anyone noticed then but everyone seems caught up in their own conversations, their own laughter.

No one sees her falling apart in the corner.

Or so she thinks until the music slows down, and the lights dim to something more intimate before a soulful melody fills the air.

Then she sees his hand is in front of her, fingers spread open in invitation, and her breath hitches.

She doesn’t what it all means but she follows him as he gently tugs her to the dancefloor. Her hand rests on his shoulder, and his hand find her waist.

"How come you’re not enjoying yourself, woman", he gently chides.

Shuri studies his face then. It’s subtle but she can already tell his bronze skin has lost his glow. There’s a few more lines at his eyes, and although he still has his broad, swimmer's build, Namor has lost some weight too.

"I'm alright", she says, and it’s a fat lie.

She barely sleeps these days. Most of her free time is spent researching ways to buy him more time.

"You don’t look alright", he tuts.

She feels the absence of his touch when he draws back to give her space to twirl, and there’s less distance between them when he brings his broad frame back to her.

Shuri realizes with acute precision then. How much she wants to inhale him.

How much it will hurt to say goodbye.

His hand tightens around her waist, and she shudders in his arms. His breath tickles her ear when he leans in to whisper.

"The party is not over, Shuri. You have to keep dancing."

She bristles at the double-entendre. He gently releases her then. And it's only then she realizes they're not alone in a bubble of their own. Other couples have formed all around them.

Shuri stands still. She follows the line of Namor’s gaze so her eyes land on Bucky, who bends his tall frame to indulge Abha and twirl him.

Her son’s soft, giggly laugh hangs in the air, and Shuri looks back to Namor with damp eyes.

She takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. Tries to swallow the sob that’s lodged in her throat as he brushes her cheek before turning around and closing the distance to Bucky and Abha.

His eyes meet hers across the room.

His smile falters for just a second, something flickering in his gaze that she can’t quite read. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that easy charm, that confidence she used to love so much.

He nods to her.

It's small, an almost imperceptible gesture, and then he’s moving again, spinning into another dance, his laughter ringing out in the air.

She hates him for this. And what hurts the most is hat she understands. She can see through the act.

She knows the desperation underneath it all.

Namor is only trying to hold on to what little time he has left, trying to live as much as he can, and she hates him for it. Hates him and herself because he’s going to leave her, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it.

It’s more than she can take then.

Shuri finds Attuma and excuses herself from the gathering, the laughter and music fading into the background as she steps outside into the cool night air.

She is so shaken she doesn’t notice Namor following her footsteps at first.

---------------------------

The door to her home clicks shut behind them.

Shuri can feel Namor behind her, lingering, his gaze burning into her back.

She wants him gone to deal with her misgivivings by herself, and yet she doesn’t tell him off. She can't deal with him. She can’t bear to be without him.

"Shuri."

His voice is low. It’s soft and unrelenting. "We need to talk."

Shuri exhales sharply, not turning to face him just yet.

"I don’t want to talk right now. Just go back to your cousins, Namor. Abha needs you there."

"Our son is safe and sound with my family, you know that. You’re the one who needs me here. I’m not leaving until we talk things out."

His patience, his calmness. It is too much today.

Shuri spins around to face him.

Her eyes blaze, and her body suddenly trembles with irritation.

"What do you want from me ? You want me to sit here and just pretend I’m okay with this ? With you ?"

Namor steps forward.

His dark eyes never leave hers, unwavering.

"Please. Just go back, Namor,” she replies, her tone sharp and desperate.

“He’s safe,” he repeats, his voice steady. “He’s with family. And I’m here with you.”

Her heart pounds in her chest.

"Why can’t you just listen for once ? Why can’t you understand that I need space ? I need to think.”

“Think about what ?” he presses, taking a step closer, “A few weeks ago, it felt like we had an understanding. Like we were moving forward. You weren’t this angry with me. What gives, now ?"

Shuri doesn’t answer at first. Instead, she averts her gaze to her surroundings. Toys spread about the living room. A stack of unread books on the coffee table. The skeleton of a wine bottle shared with Riri two nights before.

“It's you”, she finally replies, her voice shaking, “You were open for one night, and then you put up walls again. You don’t tell me anything about your check-ups with Sue. You dance like everything is fine and our son won’tbe fatherless tomorrow. And I'm mad at the fucking universe for this. It’s too unfair."

Namor swallows hard.

"I want you to be honest. With me. With yourself. You can’t be mad at the entire world, Shuri."

Her lips curl into a bitter, sarcastic smile.

"Oh, I can’t ? Watch me."

He shakes his head. Frustration flickers in his gaze, but his voice remains maddeningly steady.

"You’re not angry at the world. You’re angry at me." Shuri’s heart slams in her chest.

She clenches her fists at her sides. Tries to hold it all in, but the pressure is simply too much. Her voice breaks.

"Of course I'm angry with you ! You kept this from me for months, Namor ! You knew you were dying, and you didn’t tell me ! Do you know how much time you’ve taken from us? How much time you’ve taken from me ?"

He stands there, still as stone, taking her words like blows. His face is unreadable but his eyes are filled with something she can’t name.

Regret ? Pain ? Love ?

It only makes her angrier to think about the third option.

"You let me believe everything was fine. You let me—"

Her voice cracks again. Her breath hitches in her throat.

"We lost so much time, Namor. And we're never getting it back."

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, but Shuri doesn’t back down. She can’t. Not now.

Not anymore.

"You’re right," he says quietly. "I should have told you sooner. I should have told you everything."

His calm acceptance of his own mistakes only makes her fury flare hotter. Shuri feels her emotions spiraling out of control, like a storm she has no hope of stopping. No leash for.

"I hate you for that," she whispers, voice trembling, "I hate you for making me feel like this."

Namor doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he steps closer, so close that she can feel the warmth radiating from him. His scent fills her nostrils.

"Then hit me," he says, his voice firm but soft, like a dare. Like a prayer. "If it helps, hit me."

Shuri freezes.

The words hang in the air between them.

She stares at him.

At the man she loves. The man she already lost once, and the one who is slipping through her fingers once again.

Before she can stop herself, she pushes him. Hard.

Her hands shove against his chest, and Namor barely moves, his gaze locked on hers. And that only makes her angrier. So she shoves him again, harder this time, her fists pounding against his chest.

"I hate you," she sobs, and her fists thud hard gainst him, but the words feel hollow and empty, "I hate you for keeping this from me. I hate you for dying."

Namor doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move to stop her. He stands there. Takes it all. But his eyes are filled with emotion. His eyes say 'I love you'.

It breaks something inside her and her punches slow down. And then she's crying, her body wracked with sobs she can’t hold back anymore.

Namor’s arms wrap around her, pulling her to him, cradling her against his chest.

"It’s going to be okay," he whispers against her hair, his voice soothing.

A promise he cannot keep lingering between them.

"Our family will be okay."

Shuri can’t stop the sobs. Buries her face against his chest, clings to him. Her hands fist in his shirt as if she could somehow keep him there, keep him from leaving her forever.

And then, before she even realizes what is going on, Namor tilts her face up to his. His thumb brush away tears from her cheeks.

His eyes are dark but warm, filled with something raw and desperate. And before she can think, his lips are on hers, and her mouth is captured in a searing kiss.

It’s a collision of desperation and longing more than anything. A release and a shattering all at once.

Shuri wraps her arms about his neck, pulling him closer as if he were the only thing anchoring her to this moment.

This moment where Namor is giving her all of his emotions through one touch.

She’s pressed against the cool wall of her home somehow, and Namor’s hands tease at the hem of her sundress.

His fingertips graze the dark espresso of her skin and the touch sends shivers through her. The world falls silent then their foreheads touch and their breaths mingle.

Shuri searches his eyes. She smiles when she finds a mixture of confusion and longing reflected back at her.

She inhales him then.

Again and again.

Until it’s too much for him to have her mouth hovering around his face and mouth without doing anything.

So he cradles her face gently and kisses her hard.

Shuri shuts her eyes and moans into his mouth, and her hands dig into his dark waves. It doesn’t take long before Namor’s hunger makes him suck at her neck.

Her hips buck into him, silently begging for more. Her hands cradle his shoulders.

"Please", she breathes, "Namor, please..."

Her ex-husband lets out a groan that makes her stomach flip. And she feels more dampness in her panties then.

"Shuri...", he breathes, and she opens her eyes to take him in.

To drink in how his lips part open at the sight of her, his dark eyes half-lidded and just as lust blown as hers. His rugged hands slip under her dress, and she hikes a leg up to help him drag her simple black lingerie down her legs.

He does something unexpected then.

He tucks her panties in his pocket with a sly grin, and she can’t help but curl a hand around his thick neck to draw him close.

They kiss again, but slower. Tasting each other’s flavor, and Shuri wonders how she was even able to walk away from this in the past.

She gasps into his mouth when he hikes her leg higher up, and she feels him hard against her center.

"Are you ready for this, Shuri ?" he asks, his chest already heaving and his voice a hoarse mess. "Are you ready for me ?"

Shuri nods breathless. She holds on to him tight.

Her eyes flicker when she hears the tell tale clank of his belt, and the soft rustle of his pants pooling down. She whines when she feels his fingers down there, playing with her soaping cunt and clit until she almost sees stars.

She grips Namor tighter, and the squelching of his fingers is replaced by something else.

Something much bigger.

Something she missed though she never admitted it to herself.

Namor works his hips with dark intent, his touch eased up by her dripping cunt, and soon, his thick length breaches her.

Their foreheads touch and both their mouths part open at the sudden sweetness. And the way he fills her up is just exquisite. Incomparable.

It’s a tad too much, too soon, and it stings a little with how long it's been but it doesn’t matter.

It still feels like coming home.

Namor stops at her whine. He nuzzles her nose.

His fingers trace delicate moons along her thigh, and there’s a silent question in his eyes.

Shuri’s chest rises and falls. Her heartbeat picks up speed.

“Are you okay ?” he finally whispers.

His voice is low. It trembles with restraint.

His hands shudder slightly too as he holds her, his control fraying at the edges, and his large hands move from her hips to squeeze her breasts and make her sing.

Shuri nods after a beat, her breath hitching as she adjusts to him. To the feeling of being so tightly stuffed, and the intimacy of it all.

The initial sting fades then, and it gets replaced by something delicious and primal all at once.

Something that coils tight in her belly. In her heart and in her bones.

“Move,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

She’s so scared of this. Of them.

But she doesn’t wanna resist.

Her fingers thread through his hair, and they tug gently to pull him closer.

"Please, Namor…Just move. Please, please, please.”

He lets out a shaky breath, and his eyes close briefly as if steeling himself.

Then Namor moves.

It’s slow and careful at first. Each thrust measured and careful as he studies her face, drinking in the way she gasps, the flutter of her lashes, and how her body arches into his touch.

And when her content moans turns to needier whines, that’s when he picks up the speed. Her legs wrap about his waist as he drives deeper, and loses himself in the heat of her.

The soft squelch of them fills the dark room, and Shuri inhales just to taste the sweet musk of them.

She meets him thrust for thrust, and keens when he gently sucks and bites her neck.

She’s a jaguar under his fingers, and she claws at his back. Clutches his biceps to keep herself grounded.

Each drag of his thick dick against her folds sends shivers throughout her body.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking sweet", he breathes.

She soaks in the compliment, and tightens around him to hear him sing that guttural moan just for her.

His hands grip her hips, they pull her closer, deeper, and Shuri cries out while Namor answers with another raw grunt, and the pressure coils tight between them.

She can feel it in her bones and in her heart, the edge approaching, and the world narrowing to just this.

To Namor being right where he belongs, just his tall frame pumping away between her slender legs, and Shuri feels so close, so fucking close.

“Please… please,” she begs, her voice breaking.

Namor’s hand slips between them then, and his fingers find her swollen clit.

He rubs it in tight circles, the rugged pad of his thumb making it throb, and his touch has Shuri bucking and gasping against him.

It’s too much, and yet not nearly enough.

She clings to him, her entire body trembling, every nerve ending sparking as the pleasure builds to a fever pitch and she burns like a thousand suns.

“Come for me, in watan” he whispers, his voice rough and low, and it’s the command she needs to shatter completely.

He makes her cry again but it’s beautiful this time. She cries out, and her entire body tenses.

"For me, Shuri. Just for me", he whispers, his breath tickling her ear while an invisible force tickles her pussy.

The pleasure is like the sea and she's swept under, caught in Namor’s undertow. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over her.

Her cunt throbs around him, and she can feel him lose control. His movements become erratic, his breaths ragged against her ear, and Shuri has never felt so loved or coveted.

"Inside me", she breathes, "Inside me, Namor. I missed this. I missed you so much..." She inhales him again while he buries his face in her neck.

Then he follows her over the edge, and his body shudders as he carves himself deep inside her.

Namor comes hard, so fucking hard. And his orgasm, and the long bursts of his cum, it draws out her own pleasure.

It takes some time for the world around them to come back then.

Namor’s arms tighten around her. His face is buried in her hair, and they’re a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty clothes.

But they simply hold each other while heir breaths even out.

Shuri feels him pull back just enough to look at her, his hand brushing a stray braid from her face.

His gaze is soft, almost reverent, and the way he looks at her makes her heart clench in her chest.

It’s painful but Shuri understands her pain.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, Shuri.”

But he makes no move to disengage.

And he doesn’t look sorry.

In fact, he looks relaxed, happy even.

Exhausted for sure.

Shuri closes her eyes, heart bursting.

---------------------------

The more she comes, the more she wants. She’s always been quite insatiable in bed, and Namor used to love it. Used to make it a challenge to give her multiple orgasms. But things are different now, and Shuri can tell he feels a tad awkward about his stamina not being what it used to.

He's so cute when he mumbles his apologies, and something about waiting until tomorrow, or at least half an hour.

Her eyes gleam with determination as she leans over him, and straddles him, and they both moan at the contact, desperate for more.

Then her her hands are on either side of his head. His breath hitches.

Her expression softens just so as she looks down at him.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this, you know ?” she teases.

And before he can respond, she pushes him back onto the bed, his body softly sinking into the plush covers.

Shuri slowly eases down on his hard dick then she starts her relentless pace and bounces.

A small smile curves his mouth as he tries to keep up with. But the strain is clear. He’s not the same tireless force he once was, and it frustrates him.

“Shuri,” he says, and his voice is laced with both apology and desire.

His eyes are softened by vulnerability, and she loves him so much like this. She pauses.

“Shuri, I—”

“Shh,” she says, and silences him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you.”

Her voice is firm. Her eyes sparkle with affection.

Namor’s hands instinctively find her thighs, and they hold on as she begins to move again. She rises and falls, and each time a soft moan escapes her lips, the sound drives him wild. He tries to keep up, his hands guiding her onto his hard length, but his stamina falters again.

“Shuri, I’m—” he tries again, but she cuts him off with a slow, deliberate roll of her hips that makes him gasp.

It’s too good. Too sweet. He feels everything. Shuri knows it.

“I don’t want to hear any apologies,” she whispers, and leans down to capture his lips. “Just let me take care of you.”

The more she moves, the more she craves. Each motion, each sinuous roll of her hips is a heady mix of dominance and need, and she’s relentless.

She chases the high, she takes her pleasure, and Namor can only hold on, his muscles tensing and relaxing beneath her as he desperately tries to match her pace.

But she’s unstoppable, and this time, he’s the one helpless against the tide.

When he mumbles another apology, she can’t help but smile at her silly man.

“You’re perfect,” she says, and her hands tangle in his hair as she rides him. “Just let me have this.”

Because Shuri deserves this. This sweetness.

She deserves him. The man she chose.

The man who put a beautiful baby boy inside her. She has been a good girl for so long now.

And Namor surrenders.

He yields to her completely. His eyes are locked on hers with a mix of admiration and love, and Shuri’s pace picks up speed when his mouth finally finds her breasts.

His tongue curls around one bud, his hands sway along the smooth expanse of her skin, and he lifts his hips to meet hers in a desperate burst of energy.

"Namor, fuck...!"

His hands grip her waist as he tries to give her everything he has left. Shuri cries out.

Her body tenses and then she’s coming undone above him, pretty nails digging into his shoulders as she shudders with pleasure.

Namor’s eyes flutter shut as he comes. His body is spent but his is heart full. And when he opens his eyes again, Shuri can't help it. She smiles down at him.

He looks beautiful, and he is hers.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. She leans into his touch, and her smile softens even more.

“So are you,” she says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Now rest. We’ll go again when you’re ready.”

Namor can only chuckle then.

Her heart swells with affection, and she snuggles against him. His arm curls around her shoulder.

He presses a gentle kiss to her head. Shuri wants to say it. So badly.

But as his chest rises and falls, and a content look spreads across his features, she figures it is okay.

They will be okay.

She wakes first, her head resting on Namor’s chest, and she listens to the sweet lullaby of his heartbeat.

And for a moment, she allows herself to simply enjoy the warmth of his body against hers, the quiet peace between them.

She shifts slightly, and Namor stirs beneath her. His eyes flutter open, and they’re still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning," she whispers.

Namor smiles faintly, though there’s a tiredness in his eyes.

"Morning," he says, his voice rough.

The trace of an apology still hangs on his lips.

Shuri lifts her head to look at him, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his face.

“Don’t even think about it,” she says, already knowing where his thoughts are headed. “No apologies. Last night was perfect.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and intimate, but she can see the hint of frustration in the way his jaw tightens.

His stamina has faded, his once unshakable strengyh is now replaced by a fragility that unsettles him.

Shuri knows it’s hard for him to accept, and a part of her aches at the sight of his vulnerability.

But she loves him all the more for it.

“You were incredible,” she adds, and presses a kiss to his chest. “You are incredible.”

Namor’s hand comes up to gently stroke her back, but his gaze is distant for a moment, as if he's grappling with his new reality.

“Things are different,” he says quietly, almost more to himself. “They are,” she says in return.

Her fingers trail across his chest. They trace the lines of his collarbone. “But that doesn’t change what we are.”

His eyes soften, his lips part as if to say something, but she leans up, and silences him with a kiss.

“I missed this” she whispers against his mouth. “I missed us. And I’ll take care of you, just like you’ve always taken care of me.”

Namor’s hands tighten around her waist, pulling her closer as if grounding himself in her presence.

“You don’t have to carry everything, Shuri. Not for me."

She pulls back and looks into his eyes with fierce determination.

“I’m not carrying everything. We’re doing this together. And right now, I want to enjoy every moment with you, no matter how slow or how fast.”

His smile returns, and it’s softer this time.

“I'm gonna ignore that last part", he says, "You’re too good to me.”

“Maybe,” she teases, and her fingers run through his hair. “But you deserve it. You always have.”

They lie in comfortable silence, and the morning stretches on lazily around them. Shuri’s mind drifts as she rests her head back on his chest, her body relaxed against his.

She knows their future will be different, that there will be challenges, and heartbreak looming ahead, but she’s ready for them.

They’ve been through so much together already.

As his breathing slows, and Namor drifts back into a light sleep, Shuri closes her eyes too.

She lets the steady rise and fall of his chest lull her to sleep. She knows they’ll face whatever comes together. For now, she’s content to wait.

It seems they have all the sweet time in the world this morning.

But there’s something tickling her conscience still. A growing feeling of unease. Then it hits her.

Abha.

Her son isn’t home. Where is he ?

Her eyes snap open fully now, and her heart races.

She sits up quickly. Her mind runs through the events of the night before.

Attuma’s housewarming party. Her leaving early only to be tailed by Namor, and asking him to go back for their son. But Shuri didn’t think about her darling boy at all ever since.

Her eyes widen.

“Oh God” she says, scrambling out of bed and throwing on the nearest robe.

“What’s wrong ?” Namor asks, his voice lazy with amusement as he props himself up on his elbows, clearly not sharing her sense of urgency.

“We forgot Abha,” she blurts out, glancing around the room as if her son might magically appear in a corner. “He’s still at Attuma’s. We forgot him all night.”

Namor’s eyes flicker with surprise for a brief moment, but then, he starts to laugh. It isn’t just a chuckle either.

It is a full, rumbling laugh that shakes the bed. The bastard actually finds this funny.

“Shuri, it’s not the end of the world,” he says between laughs, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Attuma’s house is right down the lane.”

“It’s not funny!”

She paces around the room, and ties her robe tighter.

“I left my son, our son, with Attuma all night. I’m sure he’s fine, but what kind of mother forgets their child like that ?”

Namor just grins at her. He learly doesn’t share her panic.

"You’ve been a good mother for years, one night isn’t going to change that,” he says, standing up to stretch his rippling muscles.

And Shuri almost thinks of having him right here and then. Just a quickie. She blinks the sinful thoughts away.

“Abha’s probably having the time of his life. You know Attuma spoils him rotten." Shuri stos mid-step, fists her hands on her hips, and glares at him.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” His smile widens.

“Maybe a little,” he says, “I don’t mind being the talk of the neighborhood. Everyone will know you dragged your ex-husband along for a rescue mission after spending the night with him. It’ll be the best gossip they’ve had in months.”

Shuri groans. She rubs her temples.

“You don’t live here. You don’t have to face these people every day. Some PTA moms from Abha’s school live here. I will never hear the end of this."

He shrugs.

“True. But I think it adds some excitement to your morning routine. Think of it as shaking things up a little.”

Shuri shoots him a look that could cut through steel.

“I am not in the mood to be the talk of the neighborhood, Namor.”

He chuckles again, clearly unbothered by her glare, and crosses the room to her. His hands settle on her shoulders, and he dips his head to kiss her forehead.

“Then I’ll go with you. We’ll get Abha, and I’ll make sure to charm anyone who dares to say a word about it.”

She sighs, and leans into his touch despite herself.

“You think your charm is the solution to everything, don’t you ?”

“It’s worked so far,” he teases, and presses another kiss to her temple. “Besides, if anyone has anything to say, let them. You can handle them, itzia."

She groans again but can’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Fine. But we’re sneaking out the back way. I’m not dealing with the morning market crowd.”

Namor’s grin is mischievous as he grabs a sea green robe from her closet. Her mouth gapes, but no words come out.

“Lead the way, woman."

Shuri throws him a dry look, and as much as she dreads the inevitable whispers, she can’t delay any longer.

Attuma is probably laughing at the situation already, and Abha...well.

Hopefully, her son is blissfully unaware of his parents’ temporary lapse.

--------------------------------------

Attuma swings the door open with a grin already tugging at the corner of his lips.

He leans against the frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes glinting with mischief.

His gaze flickers between Shuri and Namor, and his snicker turns into a low chuckle at their disheveled look and matching robes.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, shaking his head. “Look who remembered they had a child and decided to finally show up. Must have been very busy last night, hmm ?”

He raises an eyebrow, his teasing tone unmistakable and Shuri stands there, arms crossed, her expression a mix of irritation and embarrassment.

Namor, on the other hand, can’t suppress his own laughter. He’s clearly enjoying the situation far too much.

Attuma’s eyes sparkle as he continues to tease them mercilessly.

“What, you two couldn’t even send a message ? A quick call ? No, just forget your son and hope I’d notice at some point.”

He leans in slightly, and his voice drops into a conspiratorial tone.

“You’re lucky I’m so good with kids.”

Shuri rolls her eyes, trying her best to maintain her dignity.

“We were… preoccupied,” she mutters, clearly not in the mood for his relentless teasing.

Namor claps Attuma on the shoulder, still chuckling.

“I told you she’d forget to call if something ever happened between us again” he says, eyes gleaming with amusement, and a smug grin plastered on his face.

Shuri scoffs. "I'm gonna pretend I didn’t hear that." Attuma’s laughter booms and fills the doorway.

“Oh, I knew ! Shuri always gets all caught up in things,” he teases, his gaze playfully narrowing on her. “But this ? Forgetting your own kid ? Must have been one hell of a night !"

Shuri huffs, her patience fraying.

“Where’s Abha ?” she asks, sidestepping Attuma’s jokes and heading inside.

He doesn’t let up though.

“He’s fine. Been keeping Namora company. She’s practically asleep at the table because your boy doesn’t stop yapping."

As Shuri walks past him, Attuma glances at Namor with a grin.

“You really don’t mind this at all, do you ?”

The question makes her ears perk, and she looks over her shoulder to see Namor shrug casually. His smirk grows wider.

“Not at all. You know I like being the center of attention.”

“You would,” Attuma laughs, shaking his head again as he follows them inside.

Shuri steps into the kitchen and immediately spots her baby boy at the breakfast table, his little legs swinging as he chatters non-stop. Across from him, Namora sits slumped, a mug of tea clutched in her hands, trying her best to keep up with Abha’s rapid-fire stories.

She looks exhausted, her eyes barely open, nodding absentmindedly to whatever wild tale he’s spinning.

Shuri’s shoulders relax as she watches the scene.

Her heart swells at the sight of her son safe and happy.

“Abha,” she calls softly, and her voice carries a mixture of relief and affection.

Abha’s face lights up the moment he sees her.

“Mama !”

He slides off the chair and rushes toward her, wrapping his arms around her legs. “Uncle Attuma made pancakes, and I had three of them !”

Shuri kneels down to hug him tightly, kissing the top of his head.

“I’m so sorry, baby. We are so late. Your baba and I got a little… distracted last night.” Attuma snickers from behind her, earning him a warning look from Shuri.

Namor walks over, ruffling Abha’s hair with a grin.

“You’re making your auntie Namora work hard this morning, I see.”

Namora groans softly from the table.

“He has so much energy,” she mutters, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know how you do it every day, Shuri.”

Shuri stands up to give Namora a thankful answer but before she can, Attuma wraps his massive arms around both her and Namor, pulling them into one of his infamous a bear hugs that squeeze the air out of her lungs.

“Ah, look at this !", he says, squeezing them both tightly. “The little family’s all together again. We are so back ! Feels good, doesn’t it ?"

And despite her best attempts to stay annoyed, Shuri can’t help but smile as Attuma pulls her closer.

She meets Namor’s amused gaze over Attuma’s shoulder, and for a brief moment, everything feels right. And though they haven’t discussed the details much, nor where their feelings really stand, it does feel good to be together again.

“Yeah,” she says with a small smile, her voice softer now, “We are back.”

Attuma releases them with a final chuckle, stepping back to look at the trio.

“And don’t worry,” he adds with a wink, “I won’t let the whole neighborhood know you forgot your son.”

Shuri groans, and she playfully swats his arm.

“You’re impossible.”

Namor just laughs.

He wraps a possessive arm around Shuri’s waist and she feels her skin prickle with excitement and joy.

“Come on, let’s go home before my cousins decide to charge us for babysitting.”

Attuma grins.

“Oh, trust me, I’ll find a way to make you pay. You owe me for last night.”

Shuri sighs dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll make it up to you,” she says, ruffling Abha’s hair. “Next time, we’ll just make sure to call.”

Attuma playfully bumps Shuri’s shoulder then.

Namor grins as they all head toward the door.

"If there’s a next time, I’m sure we’ll still forget."

Shuri can’t help but laugh then, the ridiculousness of the whole situation finally sinking in. Namor seems entirely unbothered, still smiling like this is exactly how he wanted the morning to go.

Even Namora gives them a sleepy wave before resting her head in her hand, clearly done with the morning chaos.

Once they’re back on the porch, Attuma claps Namor on the back.

“Looks like you’ve got your family back together now, cousin. Don’t screw it up.”

Namor just grins. He searches for Shuri’s gaze, and her heart thuds hard when he holds it.

“I wouldn’t dream of it", he says.

Shuri rolls her eyes, but there’s a warmth in her chest she can’t deny.

As chaotic and teasing as it all is, this is their family.

And now, it finally feels whole.

Chapter Text

It starts early in the morning.

A soft rain against the large windows of their cabin, and the skies above them a moody gray as they stay in the heart of nature itself.

Sure, it's a beautiful backdrop but it does tamper Shuri’s already sore mood. She wanted this week-end in Aspen to be perfect but any plan for hiking and a picnic are now smothered by the weather.

Namor is the first to suggest they stay in, his voice hiding any trace of disappointement. He’s only betrayed by a flicker of exhaustion in his eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Looks like it’s going to be an indoor day,” he says with a gentle smile, ruffling their son's curls, while the three of them sit around the breakfast table. "How about we make the most of it ?”

Abha beams at his father, chocolate crumbs peppering his plump cheeks like freckles.

“Can we play board games, baba ? And maybe watch movies after ?”, he says before biting into another cookie.

“Absolutely,” Namor agrees.

His voice is as warm as the crackling fire they’ve lit to ward off the chill. He glances at her. Catches that fleeting sadness in her expression, and his smile softens just so.

Just for her.

“What do you think, Shuri ? Sounds like a good plan ?”

She nods and forces a little smile.

“Sounds perfect.”

They start with a game of Monopoly, the old board scuffed from years of use, and Abha quickly dominates. He laughs in their faces as he amasses property after property, and outmaneuvers them at every turn. Though Shuri knows Namor is letting their baby boy win. Evenn pretends to be outraged whenever he lands on one of Abha’s hotels, while she tries her best to keep up, though her mind drifts now and then.

It's so strange. So unfair. She can’t help but linger on the reality that looms just beneath the surface for them.

The game finally ends with Abha as the clear victor, and their little family transitions seamlessly into watching a series of old movies.

Namor lets Abha pick the first one, a classic adventure film that has him on the edge of his seat the entire time, his eyes wide with excitement.

He sits close to Shuri on the couch and when their shoulders brush, she’s acutely aware of the warmth of his presence. Of the steady rhythm of his breathing, of his tired heart and everything that makes Namor him.

She steals glances here and then during the movie. Tries to memorize every little detail, every perfect imperfection. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the grey speckles in his beard and dark waves, the strength in his hands even as he rests them casually on his lap. And the calm assurance in his voice when he occasionally makes a wry comment about the plot and worn special effects.

She’s known this man and that carressing voice for years. A voice she thought she’d always have by her side.

When the movie ends, and the rain continues its steady drumming against the cabin, he suggests they cook a meal together. Abha groans at first, but quickly gets into the idea when Namor offers to make homemade cheeseburgers.

They take turns reading in the afternoon, Namor’s deep voice narrating The Little Mermaid with a cadence that draws both Shuri and Abha in completely.

Shuri watches him closely as he reads. She notes the slight tremor in his hand when he turns the page, the way his breath catches now and then, betraying the toll his illness is taking on him.

The afternoon slowly fades into evening, and after dinner, another simple meal they prepare together, they settle back down by the fire, and when Abha gets sleepy, Namor carries him into bed.

Shuri waits for him in the living room, curled up on the couch with a soft blanket draped over her legs. He returns beside her and their proximity feels both familiar and painfully fragile.

The firelight dances in his eyes and casts a golden glow over his features. They sit in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the crackling of the fire and the rain.

“It’s hard to believe it’s been so many years,” Shuri finally says, "We were practically kids when we first met."

Namor smiles, the memory clearly as vivid for him as it is for her.

"Speak for yourself, woman", he teases.

Their eyes meet and Shuri feels an unmistakable feeling of of longing for the man who is already right beside her.

“That opening night at the museum. The exhibition about gods and men”, he recalls with a smile, “You were so fierce. And so determined to prove that guide wrong about that artifact.”

“Because he was so insufferably sure of himself when he knew nothing. You know I was right about that piece."

Namor chuckles fondly.

"You were, princess. Gave that poor guy a history lesson in the middle of his own tour. But I'm glad I picked up the same slot as you that day."

"So you’re telling me seeing me discipline another man in public got you intrigued ", she teases.

"It sure did, itzia", he says, his voice getting lower, and his hand tucks another braid behind her ears, "I knew if I'd wanted to have you, I'd have to concede defeat to you every now and then."

Shuri hums. "And you did yield to me."

"I always do", he whispers.

She feels the same warm hand at the small of her back then catches that familiar glint in Namor’s eyes.

But she’s not in the right mood yet. Reminiscing about their first time makes her feel brittle. Fond memories turning to paper sand for her broken heart.

She looks down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket.

“Namor, I thought we had forever.”

His hand stops its gentle waves of carressing at her back but stays right there.

He’s quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and tender.

“So did I. But life had other plans. It’s given us this, though. This time. This beautiful day together."

Shuri can feel tears welling up, but she blinks them away.

“It’s not enough. And today was supposed to be perfect but it’s been raining instead."

“It’s been perfect for me,” Namor replies softly, and his hand comes to cradle her cheek, his fingers slowly wiping her tears.

“Today is what we have. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

They talk late into the night, reminiscing about their life together, the highs and the lows, the moments that shaped them. Namor’s voice grows quieter as the hours pass, his exhaustion becoming more apparent, but he never complains. He listens to Shuri as she talks about their son, about her hopes for his future, and when she finally falls silent, he takes her hand in his, and squeezes it gently.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers, the confession slipping out before she can stop it.

Namor doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, his eyes are filled with a mixture of sadness and love.

“I know,” he says softly. “And I don’t want to leave so early. But you know as well as I do… this isn’t so much about us anymore. It’s about him. About giving him the best life we can for this little time we have left."

Shur nods, her tears finally spilling over, but she doesn’t wipe them away.

“I’m sorry … about the divorce. About everything.”

He pulls her close, and Shuri snuggles against him.

He peesses a tender kiss to the top of her head.

“Don’t be. We made the choices we thought were best at the time. And maybe they were. All that matters right now is that we’re here. Together .”

Shuri buries her face in his chest, and for the first time, she allows herself to cry a long while. Namor holds her the entire time, his touch steady and reassuring while tremors rake through her body, and they stay like this until the fire burns down to embers.

Until Shuri wakes up from her slumber and catches the first light of dawn.

She realizes how many hours have passed right then, and the way the blanket covers them both while her head rests on Namor’s chest, right above that treacherous, fragile heart.

She wipes off the crust of her tears before peeking at him like this. How much younger he looks with the softness of sleep.

Her hand can’t help but brush his warm cheek, and Namor answers her touch with a tired sigh.

"You okay", he drawls, voice deep and gruff with sleep, and her body answers to his attention then

There's a tight coil low in her belly at their closeness. At their smells mingling together, and those dark eyes of his narrowing at her until Shuri has no choice but to answer his question.

"Yes, Namor, I’m okay."

Namor shuts his eyes with a contented sigh.

"You’re gonna go back to sleep ?", Shuri asks, and it almost sounds innocent.

Except this man is a master at reading her emotions.

"What do you have in mind , itzia ?"

Shuri smiles at him then.

Her limbs are a little sore after not moving them for so long but she manages to sashay out of the blanket. And when it’s not enough, and the parts of Namor’s body she covets the most are still covered, she ends up tugging at it and flinging the offending material overboard.

Namor hisses at the chill. Her fingers trail lightly along his legs.

"Don't be a baby", she whispers.

"I'm cold " , he gruffs, a big hand wrapping about her waist to tug her closer but Shuri shakes her head no, and her hand clutches his to make him stop.

"Namor, don't. You can’t touch me."

His brows furrow in confusion and frustration the entire time she forces his hands to remain at his sides.

He only relaxes when Shuri glides down his body until her face hovers right above the bulge that’s been straining his grey sweatpants.

Saliva pools instantly in her mouth, and when she looks up to him, he's giving her that feral half lidded stare and his mouth parts open.

It’s been such a long time, and she wants him desperately. Wants to consume his very essence and carry him inside her again. Wants to steal his smell, his taste, everything he’s willing to give her.

So she starts by gently nuzzling her nose at him, wetness flooding her panties at the long whine that comes from Namor’s slack mouth.

She tuts at his shuddering hands.

"Only I can touch you", she reminds him.

Then her slender hands come to tug at his pants and underwear at the same time, pulling those down until his throbbing length juts proudly in front of her face.

It glistens with wetness already, and Shuri doesn’t waste any time and starts kissing him.

Namor lets out a stuttering breath and a groan that sounds like he is in pain. Shuri keeps kissing, keeps licking, and her tongue gives a broad lick at his crown then his balls before she searches for his gaze for reassurance.

"It’s been a long time, my love. Don’t hurt yourself", he warns.

His hot gaze makes her throb and moan herself, and she tries to find a small relief by tightening her legs.

Her hot mouth is a tight circle around Namor's girth. He's thick, long, nearly as big as her wrist, and she drinks in every sinful growl and moan from him as she starts to bob her head up and down.

That’s when Namor can’t bear to respect the rules anymore. His warm hand comes to cradle her face then.

"Shuri...Fuck."

She hums then, so he keeps talking. She likes when he does that.

She likes the salt and silk of him on her tongue.

"I missed you, baby...Missed this", he drawls.

She releases his dick with a pop, and finally breathes, and Namor whines at the string of saliva attached. The wetness around her mouth, the tears at her eyes with how big he is and how far she took him in.

"How much ?", she taunts, a little breathless, "How much did you miss this mouth ?"

His thick fingers wipe some of her tears but Shuri can tell the darkest part of him likes it. He used to love having her on her knees for him when they were married.

"I missed this mouth every night...Every time I went to sleep. Every night I had another woman and she wasn’t you."

Her hands tighten slightly at the thought of another woman even daring to satisfy him. Shuri hopes the taste of her was still on Namor’s tongue back then, even if it was irrational. Even if they were already divorced then, and she knows Namor hates to pleasure himself alone.

But Shuri thinks she might be renewing some of her vows now, the musk of him of him filling her nostrils as she worships at the altar of his dick.

Namor releases a shuddering breath before bending to kiss her hard. He sucks on her bottom lip and gently bites it before releasing her.

"God, your mouth...It’s made for me. You were made for me, Shuri.. "

Shuri whines and her hands glide over the swell of his biceps.

"Namor...", she begs, rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

"Yes, my love ?"

"Again. Please, let me..."

His mouth hovers right above hers.

"Tell me, Shuri. I'll give you anything you need."

"I need you", she whines, "I need to eat that dick again."

His dick practically jumps at the thought, and Shuri can tell he's so hard it must hurt, the crown of him an angry red and veins bulging so much they could threaten to pierce his skin.

"Shit, you’re killing me...", he says, hand cradling her neck while she gives a smug smile.

Then Shuri gets back to work, strumming on his heartstrings as she licks him again and again.

And Namor makes her promise to let him eat later.

----------------------------

Namor make love to her twice that night. Once with his mouth and another with his dick. And he could have probably went for a third time and ignored his exhaustion if it weren't for her.

The room is quiet save for the gentle rustling of the sheets as he shifts beside her.

The air is thick with the scent of their love-making, and the warmth of their bodies still mingles in the dim light. Shuri lies on her back, her chest rising and falling as she catches her wind.

Namor’s hand trails lazily over her stomach, his touch intimate and familiar.

He’s silent for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully before he finally speaks.

“Shuri."

"Yes ?"

"You need to marry again.”

His voice is soft but firm, and Shuri blinks, her blissful haze abruptly shattered by his unexpected statement.

She immediately turns her head to look at him in confusion. A flicker of irritation flashes in her eyes.

“What ?”

“You deserve to be surrounded by love,” Namor goes on, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather, “You should find someone who can give you that. Someone who can give Abha a sibling, a bigger family to grow up with. Someone like James."

Shuri stares at him, stunned.

“This is what you want to talk about now? After we’ve just…?”

He meets her gaze, and doesn’t weather.

“It’s important, Shuri. I’m not going to be here forever. You and Abha need stability. You need someone who can be there for you in all the ways I can’t be anymore.”

She feels a sharp, prickling pain in her chest, a mix of anger and sadness all at once.

“And you think that’s what I want? To replace you with someone else, just like that...To move on ?”

Namor’s expression softens, and his hand moves up to brush her hair from her face.

“It’s not about replacing me. It’s about you having a life filled with love, with a partner who can be there for you in every way. You'll love again someday, Shuri. And you deserve it."

She turns away from him, showing him her back, and her shoulders tense with frustration.

“If you’re so concerned about it, maybe you should marry Bucky yourself,” she mutters bitterly, half-expecting him to laugh or dismiss the idea.

But Namor doesn’t laugh.

Instead, he shifts closer to her, his arm slipping around her waist as he pulls her gently back against him.

“I’m serious, Shuri. James is a good man. He’s reliable, strong, and he has a good heart. He cares about you, and he’d be good for Abha. He needs a father figure.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. Her thoughts swirl with disbelief and irritation. The very idea of Namor bringing this up now, after everything they’ve just shared, feels almost like a betrayal.

“So, what ? You think you can just hand me over to someone else, and that’s supposed to make everything better ?”

Namor sighs softly. His lips press against the back of her neck in a tender kiss.

“It’s not like that. I just want what’s best for you. For both of you. Abha deserves to be a big brother, to have someone to share his life with. And you…you deserve to be happy, Shuri. Truly happy.”

She closes her eyes, tries to block out his words, tries to push away the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

She’s angry. Angry that he’s talking about her future as if it’s something he won’t be a part of, angry that he’s pushing her to think about a life without him.

But beneath that anger, there’s that deep, aching sadness, and a grief she’s not ready to face.

“Namor, I can’t…”

Her voice catches, and she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“I can’t even think about that right now. Not when you’re still here. Not when we’re still…” He tightens his hold on her, his thumb gently stroking her side in a soothing gesture.

“I know it’s hard. But we have to be realistic, Shuri. I want to make sure you’re taken care of, that Abha has everything he needs. You both mean everything to me.”

Shuri swallows hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

She doesn’t want to have this conversation. Doesn’t want to acknowledge the painful truth that Namor is so calmly laying out before her.

“You’re cruel, you know that ?” she whispers, her voice trembling with the effort to keep her emotions in check. “To make me think about this. About losing you...And then to tell me I should just find someone else.”

He presses his forehead against the back of her head, his breath warm against her skin.

“I’m sorry, Shuri. I don’t mean to hurt you. I just…I love you too much to leave you without a plan, without a future.”

She doesn’t respond, her thoughts too jumbled, too raw to form coherent words.

Instead, she focuses on the feel of his arms around her, the steady beat of his heart against her back, and the warmth of his body against hers.

For a moment, she lets herself believe that this is all that matters, that as long as she has him here with her, everything will be okay.

But deep down, she knows that Namor is right. She knows that their time together is running out, that the future he’s urging her to consider is one she’ll have to face sooner than she’d like.

And that thought terrifies her more than anything else.

They lie there in silence, the weight of Namor’s words hanging heavily between them.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day and the emotional toll of their conversation start to catch up with her.

She feels herself drift off to sleep, still wrapped in Namor’s arms.

As she hovers on the edge of consciousness, she hears his voice. It's soft and full of love.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, Shuri. Promise me you’ll do what’s best for you and Abha. Even if that means finding happiness with someone else.”

She doesn’t answer, too afraid that if she opens her mouth, she’ll break down completely. But she nods slightly, just enough for him to feel, and that seems to pacify him.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing one last kiss to her shoulder before they both succumb to sleep.

Her answer rests heavy on her tongue.

Shuri is not ready to say it yet. Her heart is too heavy with the weight of what’s to come.

-----------------------

Namor asks her for help one day, just like she always wanted.

He tells her to come meet him in his office in the late afternoon, and Shuri ends up sitting across from the love of her life in his dimly lit kingdom.

At first, she hoped for a late afternoon delight, knowing there will be less people there, but the air is too thick with unspoken words.

And Shuri can tell his face is etched with a solemnity she has never seen before.

The lawyer's desk between them feels like a vast ocean. One where Namor steers the ship while she tries to swallow the sickness.

He exhales deeply then, a sound that feels like the precursor to something life-altering. Something that would make her legs give up if she wasn’t already seated.

"Shuri," he begins, his voice softer than she expects, "It's time."

Shuri wants to play stupid but he doesn’t let her.

"Time for...?"

"Time I start making arrangements for my funeral."

Her heart skips a beat, and her breath catches in her throat while his heavy words hang in the air, sickening and suffocating.

Shuri blinks, trying to process what he just said, but the cold reality of it slices through her like a knife.

"A living funeral," Namor continues, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "I want to say goodbye to the people I love and care about. To our son, to you. To my cousins and friends. And I want to do it while I'm still here, while I still have the strength to do it right."

Her hands grip the edges of her chair.

Her first, knee jerk answer spills out in spite of herself.

"Namor, no," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I don't think if I can do that. I don't know if I'm strong enough to say goodbye twice."

Namor finally looks at her.

His dark eyes are filled with love, and a deep, calm resolve.

"You are strong, Shuri. You always have been. Everything is going to be fine. Remember what you told me ages ago ? Death is not the end. And grief is just love with no other place to go."

His words feel like a cruel kindness, like a serpent, wrapping around her heart and squeezing until she feels she might break.

How can Namor speak so gently, so matter-of-factly, about leaving her behind ?

About leaving their son behind ?

"You can’t just ask me to be okay with this. It’s not fair."

He reaches out, and his large bronze hand covers hers, warm and reassuring.

"I’m not asking you to be okay with it. I’m asking you to live, to take care of yourself, and to care for my family as if it were your own in the future. And to move on, Shuri. To find someone who proves himself worthy and build a life with him. Have more babies, if that’s what you want."

She wrenches her hand away, and tears well up in her eyes.

"Why do you always have to be so damn nice and so cruel at the same time ?"

Namor’s expression softens even more, a rare vulnerability showing through. His answer is simple.

"Because I love you", he says, "And because I know that if I don’t say this now, I may never get the chance. Please, promise me you’ll do this. Promise you’ll arrange something for me..."

Shuri feels the ground beneath her crumbling, just like her resolve. She nods. Her voice breaks as she speaks the truth.

"I promise."

The words leave her lips, and she feels as though she's just signed her heart away.

Namor leans back, a faint smile touching his lips, before he springs out his chair and rounds the table to close the distance between them.

Then he kneels to meet her eyes.

"Thank you," he says, smiling softly, fingers wiping her tears.

But Shuri doesn’t smile back.

She can’t.

---------------------------

It takes her a whole week to really find her resolve and rise to the occasion.

She finally uses the keys Namor gave her after the divorce to surprise him. At the time, she didn’t find it in her to use them, even if the gesture meant an olive branch in the face of their coparenting system, but Shuri figures they do have an emergency now.

Only she’s the one who ends up the most surprised when she steps into Namor’s penthouse.

She notices something is off instantly because he usual tranquility of his home is replaced by a chaotic buzz and voices she doesn’t recognize at first, and when she rounds the corner, the scene before her stops her cold.

The room is full of people. Of grown men. Some she knows, some she doesn’t. And they’re rummaging through Namor’s belongings.

Attuma is leaning casually against a bookshelf, flipping through an art book while Bucky, her ex-boyfriend, is inspecting a set of Namor’s painting tools. Even Officer Jefferson Davis is at the side table, trying on a pair of Namor’s most expensive diamond cuff links, a gleam of admiration in his eyes.

Namor chats on the couch with an old man, his expression serene and open. Shuri’s heart sinks even more when she recognizes it’s Old Stan, the neighbor Namor bought the house on her lane from. It looks like her ex-husband is practically selling one of his prized baseball to him.

And Shuri can tell from the noises upstairs that there’s more strangers pawing through Namor’s life, through his history.

It all sends a jolt of anger through her. She swallows curses as her heavy bag falls to the floor, and the men finally notice her presence.

“What the hell is going on here ?”

All heads turn towards her, then to Namor, and the room suddenly falls silent.

Namor doesn’t flinch.

He doesn’t even look surprised. Instead, he gives her a small, understanding smile, the kind that used to reassure her but now only infuriates her further.

“Shuri,” he says softly, “It's alright. The boys are just taking a few things. It’s time to let go of it.”

“To let go ?”

Shuri’s eyes blaze as she glares at the gathered group

“These are your things, Namor ! Your memories, your history. You can’t just give them away like this !”

Attuma straightens up, his expression cool as always, but he doesn’t challenge her.

Bucky lowers a flat brush. He looks between her and Namor with an unreadable expression. Officer Davis fumbles with the cuff links then, suddenly aware of the tension in the room.

And Namor remains calm, his eyes fixed on her.

"I don’t need these things anymore, itzia. They’re just material possessions. And they certainly won’t matter where I’m going."

He talks to her as if she were a child who just scraped their knees, or as if she was a little pup he needs out from under his car.

It’s maddening.

“Maybe they don’t matter to you,” she snaps, her voice cracking, “But they could matter to me."

Namor raises a skeptical brow, his fingers pointing behind her. Shuri turns around to find Miles holding a sleek gold and green headset.

"This junk matters to you ?", he taunts.

"Yes", she insists in bad faith, "And this could matter to our son anyway ! He's the one who should have all these things to remember you ! Not... not strangers.”

Her words hang in the air, her pain palpable for everyone to see. Namor finally stands then, moving towards her with that slow, deliberate grace she’s always loved. His hands find her shoulders and squeeze them ever so gently.

“Shuri, I know this is hard."

She averts her gaze to the wall which used to be adorned by a frame of the sea. It’s empty now.

"But holding on to these things won’t make it any easier. You know I will leave Abha with plenty of relics of my past but I don’t want our son to be urdened by all of my past either. You'll need a whole other house to store all that junk !"

Shuri shakes her head, unable to accept the calm logic in his words at the moment.

“It’s not just about the things, Namor. It’s about you. It’s about the fact that you’re just...you're giving up.”

“I’m not giving up,” he says gently, taking her hands in his. “I’m preparing. There’s a difference.”

She pulls away, tears stinging her eyes.

“Well, I’m not ready to prepare, okay ? I’m not ready to say goodbye !”

The room is still, everyone unsure of what to do at first but the intruders begin to edge towards the door, one by one, murmuring their excuses.

"At my old age, it would have only been a short term loan," Old Stan gruffs to Shuri's attention before Attuma has to gently tug at his arm for him to leave.

It makes Namor giggle, which in turn makes her want to sulk even more. A lingering Bucky remains at last, and he steps forward, his voice low.

“Shuri, if you need anything—”

“Just go, Bucky,” she cuts him off, her voice tight, “Please.”

He hesitates, glancing at Namor first, who gives him a small nod. Bucky looks like he wants to say more, but he respects her wishes, leaving the penthouse in silence.

Namor watches him go, then turns back to her.

“I’m sorry you had to see all that. But I want you to understand... none of this is as important as the people we leave behind.”

Shuri wraps her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold despite the warmth of the room.

“I know that. But it’s still too much.”

He steps closer, brushing a tear from her cheek with a tenderness that makes her heart ache. “I’m still here, Shuri. For now. And that’s all that matters.”

She closes her eyes, and leans tenderly into his touch. The pain doesn’t lessen as much as it should.

“Then let me have this time with you,” she whispers. “Let our son have it. Don’t let them anyone take you away before you’re even gone.”

Namor sighs, the entire weight of the world in that single breath.

His hands find her waist and draw her close.

“Alright, woman", he says, "We’ll do it your way."

Then he bends to take her mouth, and just like that, the world narrows down to just the two of them, like it used to be.

------------------------------

They plan a living funeral, and just like he wanted, Namor's celebration of life starts at the lake. The exact same spot where Namor used to love taking Abha fishing, and the entirety of their party spends the afternoon there.

Attuma brings his guitar, and so does Bucky. The lot of their friends bring delicious food and drinks, and Namor makes the same disgustingly obscene sounds he did the first time he tasted Rio Morales's cooking.

They share and remember stories and they play and they sing and they live.

Shuri loves to watch Namor watch their son, surrounded by love and tender care. On those times, his face is the softest. But she can tell from the corner of her eye that he's also looking at her just the same. To make sure she enjoys the party and doesn’t worry too much about tomorrow.

So Shuri does enjoy for him. She does share and remember stories and play and sing and live.

Namora is the one to stand the most guarded, as usual. And when the sun starts dipping low on the lake, and the cloest people to Namor come to Shuri’s home to share one last night of festivity in the back of her garden, that she realizes just how much Namor’s cousin has been holding onto.

The empty tray makes a resounding noise, startling Shuri and cutting through the haze of her thoughts.

She looks up from the frying samosas to peer at Namora, who is practically hugging herself and whose gaze seems far and lost.

"I don't know how you do this", she says, before she turns a thunderous gaze to Shuri.

"Do what ?", Shuri asks, still looking over her shoulder.

Namora snickers.

"Pretending. Doing all this cooking and hosting like it’s nothing when my cousin is dying. He’s so fucking weak he has to sit every ten minutes now", she grits with venom in her mouth but tears in her eyes.

Shuri stops whatever she’s doing then closes the distance between them. She knows her part.

And she knows Namora's.

Her arms spread open despite her knowing Namora doesn’t like to touch people or be touched much. But she has nothing else to say or offer beside that.

Life is unfair.

Life will take Namor.

Her first love. The father of her son. Namora’s cousin, brother and father all at once. And life will sure take all of them someday.

Namora hesitates, just once, before she snuggles into Shuri’s embrace and her body shakes with her tears.

Shuri holds on as tight as she possibly can.

She doesn’t know how much time as passed after this, only that the room is now permeated with a burnt smell, samosas forgotten and bursting with their fillings, and there are bigger arms surrounding Namora and Shuri both.

She looks up for a moment to find Attuma smiling down at her, before her hand curls around his waist to hold him tight too.

--------------------------

The party is over and the garden is all quiet now, a soft breeze rustling through the remaining decorations. The lights have been dimmed too, their golden glow barely illuminating the path as Shuri bends to pick up a few scattered petals.

It’s been beautiful and celebratory in a way that felt so bittersweet.

Her hands tremble as she gathers the remnants of the evening, her heart heavy. The sound of footsteps behind her is familiar, the quiet shuffle of someone who knows her better than she knows herself.

She doesn’t turn around. She can’t.

Her vision is already blurred from the tears she’s tried so hard to hold back all day.

She presses the heel of her hand against her cheek, swiping at the streaks, but it’s no use. Namor’s voice comes from just behind her, soft and full of warmth.

“I had a great day,” he says, “A very happy one.”

Shuri’s breath hitches, but she stays silent, her back still to him as she picks at the last of the petals on the grass.

Her throat feels too tight to speak, the words caught in the back of her mouth. She hears him step closer.

Feels his presence at her back like a warm tide pulling her in.

“And I owe it all to you,” Namor goes on, his voice growing softer, tender. “You gave me this day, Shuri. You gave me this happiness.”

Her fingers still, but she doesn’t dare turn around.

She can feel the tears coming again, hot and uncontrollable, and she doesn’t want him to see her like this.

Not when he’s still holding everything together so well. Not when he’s been so strong.

She’s the one who’s falling apart now. And she can’t bear to let him witness it. Not tonight.

Not when he’s already said his goodbyes to so many people, to so much of his world.

But then Namor closes the distance between them, and his hands find her waist with a familiarity that makes her heart ache.

His touch is gentle. It’s warm, and steady.

It grounds her even as everything inside her feels like it’s slipping through her fingers. He pulls her back against his chest, his chin coming to rest at the top of her head.

She feels him inhale deeply, like he’s trying to memorize the scent of her, the feel of her in his arms.

“I was born to love you, in watan", he murmurs, his voice low and full of something ancient, something that feels eternal.

His breath is warm against her hair, and his words seep into her skin. They wrap tight around her heart.

“And if you don’t want to say goodbye now… it’s okay. It’s alright.”

His words shatter the last of her composure.

Shuri’s shoulders begin to shake, the sobs she’s been holding back all evening finally breaking free.

She turns around in his arms. Buries her face in his chest as the tears come hard and fast, the pain of losing him too overwhelming to contain.

She fists her hands into his shirt. Clutches at him like she’s afraid he’ll slip away if she lets go.

Namor’s arms tighten around her, pulling her closer as he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

He holds her as she cries, his hand stroking her back, soothing her with the same tenderness he’s always shown her.

The same unwavering love that has been at the core of their relationship since the beginning. He doesn’t speak.

He doesn’t need to.

His presence is enough. His strong arms around her the only anchor she needs.

Shuri’s sobs wrack her body, and her heart aches with the knowledge that no matter how tightly she holds him, no matter how much she wishes for it, she can’t stop time.

She can’t change what’s coming.

She can only feel.

“I’m not ready,” she gasps through her tears, her voice breaking. “I’m not ready to say goodbye...”

Namor’s hands are firm on her back, steadying her as he rests his cheek against her hair.

“You don’t have to be ready, Shuri,” he whispers. “Not now. Not tonight.”

His words only make her cry harder, her sobs muffled against his chest as he holds her tighter.

Shuri clings to him, her tears soaking into his shirt, and all the pain, all the fear, all the love she’s held onto for so long pours out of her in waves.

And the more she cries, the more she regrets nothing.

Namor’s lips press softly to her temple, a quiet promise in the way he touches her, the way he holds her like she’s the most precious thing in his world.

“I love you,” he whispers against her skin.

His voice so full of emotion and it breaks her all over again.

“For as long as I’m here, as long as there’s breath in my body. I’m yours.”

Shuri can barely breathe, her chest tight with the weight of her grief, her love, her desperation to hold onto this moment.

Onto this love that feels too big, too painful, and too beautiful to let go.

They stand like that for what feels like forever, her body shaking with sobs, and his arms never faltering in their hold around her.

And eventually, when her tears begin to slow, and her sobs quiet to soft breaths, Namor pulls back.

He cups her face in his hands.

His thumbs wipe away the tears still streaking her cheeks.

His touch is so gentle it makes her want to cry all over again.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m with you.”

And in that moment, it’s beautiful and it feels just enough.