Because the second that Killmonger touches him, the second that his hands are on T’Challa’s bare skin, wrapped around his throat–T’Challa can feel him, every inch of him, Killmonger’s rapid heartbeat, his too-quick breathing, the adrenaline coursing through his body, the fear and rage and confusion, all of it running through T’Challa’s mind like a spark of fire along dry grass.

“No, no, no,” and T’Challa thinks it’s his own voice speaking until he feels the puffs of air against his face, until he realizes that it’s Erik speaking, his own face inches away from T’Challa’s as he says, “Not you, not you.”