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“What's wrong my friend?” Wukong’s grin was a feral sight, one that he's never seen before.
“Didn’t you want to see me upset?" His eyes were sharp and cruel, too far gone to care.
“Was the plan not to anger me?” A hard blow to the gut was thrown by the golden monkey above, the shining sun outlining him in a halo of dawn. “Didn’t you plan to think of what the outcome would be?” Another hit slammed down, this time aimed at the collarbone, breaking it under the weight in seconds. Screams of agony rang out through the empty mountain, swallowed by the sound of the wind. “Didn’t you know what would happen if you impersonated me like that?” Another hit to the throat, a pained noise lost in a gurgle of spit and blood. “What did you honestly think was going to happen?”
The monkey under him couldn’t respond, too busy gagging on his own tongue to obey Wukong, obey his want for answers in a sickening voice. He tried to speak, choking out each syllable, but only did the words fall on deaf ears. Macaque’s assailant too blinded by rage to understand what he was doing, to listen to the one beneath.
“Wu..kong. Please I'm… sorr-ry. Stop this, yo-uure hurting me. I b-eg of you.” Sobs and hiccups slipped through the Shadow Warrior's mouth. Pleads and begs and whimpers tumbled from his throat, yet none to hear. One hand was gripping at what used to be his eye, now mangled and torn from its socket, pain exploding from his skull. The other tried desperately to push and claw the monkey off of him, but it was futile.
Another hard hit into the ground caused cracks to spread deep into the earth. It landed mere inches from the black monkey's head, jamming the butt of the metal stick into the soft dirt. Wukong bent down on one knee and lowered his lips to one of the many ears closest to him, making them twitch and jerk violently away.
“What did you think would happen, Macaque? Did you think we would all laugh and have a good time after? Forgive you maybe? Tell you not to do it again and move on with your life? You have done something unforgivable my friend. My companion, my lover, has betrayed me. This will not go unnoticed or unpunished, my love.”
Macaque's eyes widened in unbelievable terror as Wukong raised his weapon, turning it in his hands, “No, no, no please. St-op. Stop. Forgi..ive me,” his words were drowned out by a raspy coughing fit, blood mixed with other fluids from his body came pouring from his mouth, stopping his prayers mid-sentence. “Peach-es, please. I was wrong, no mo-ore.” When Macaque saw the man on top of him nod in satisfaction at the sight below, tightening his grip on his staff. He started to plead harder, the tears coming faster than before.
Wukong raised the weapon as high as he could, the sun somehow shining brighter. All he could see was a black shadow outlined in a beautiful gold, a wreath of light beaming off his headpiece. All he was granted was one final look before the last thing he heard was a ghost of Wukongs voice, “You have lost the right to call me your own."
“Wukong no, STOP, please no, no, n..o, WUKONG! I be-g of you Ple-”
CRUNCH
Wukong shot up in bed, covered in sweat and ears ringing. He was nauseous and cold, small prickling knives making their way down his back before settling at the base of his spine. He had somehow gotten his legs tangled in the sheets at the foot of the bed, and he had lost his shirt somewhere within it.
Before he could make sure he was alone to settle his mind, his body shuttered forwards as a sea of nausea hit full force, spewing up his dinner from the night before over the side of the bed onto the tattered carpet. He was shaking with the force of the shock, blindly reaching out desperately to find the light switch to the lamp on his nightstand. Unsuccessfully being able to do such a simple task, he squinted to see the illuminated numbers on his clock. The time read 7:46 pm, too early.
He had dreamt this memory almost every night since the last battle with the Lady Bone Demon. Macaque was his last thought at night and his first one in the morning. The only difference was the former were those of wishes and wants, whilst the latter brought those of memories, caked in blood and splattered in gore, for him to witness over and over again.
He didn’t need the dream to continue to know where they were headed. He would remember the sharp and wet crack as his staff buried itself into Macaque's head, how it would become unrecognizable. He would still remember the sorrow and pain that would swell in his chest a few moments after, crushing his lungs and forcing out whatever air he had left. He would remember the last breath he took as his screams of torture and suffering ended abruptly. No longer was his voice hoarse and raw, but dead and silent.
He could recall the blinding seconds as he realized what he had done. The frantic tearing of nails at Macaque's body to get him to wake up, picking up and cradling his limp, crushed head in his arms. The sounds of the mountain, hushed, too quiet for the loud white noise filtering in his brain, the static slowly taking over. He could remember every moment after what he did. Leaving the cold body in the grass so he could trudge down the hill with no destination in mind.
What he couldn't remember was destroying all the plum tree groves in a fit of rage and anguish. All except one, there he would make a grave of sorts for his lost lover.
He hated himself for the following years. He hated himself for decades more, hated how he couldn’t die after what he did. How he couldn’t reunite with his love in death to beg for forgiveness, to tell him his wrongs. He had killed the moon in the sky, the only left were the stars that never shone as bright.
That's when the voices started trickling in and leaving their seeds of doubt and bitterness. The ones making their way into the depths of his mind, whispering ideas he'd never thought before. They sat and waited, waiting for when he was broken and alone. That's when they crept up and overtook him.
The memories swirled together as the feeling in his gut spun around and around. He somehow managed the strength to get out of bed as he stepped over the vomit, straight into the bathroom. The next couple of minutes were spent scrubbing his own bile whilst he cleaned himself. The thought of food didn’t sit too well with him at the moment so he opted out of breakfast, even if his stomach demanded it. After dressing, the energy he had left vanished as he slipped to the floor.
He sat in silence for far too long to remember what he had executed, who he executed. This was how most mornings went anyway, hushed and alone. He didn’t want to think about the bad, but no matter how hard he tried to remember the good days, the warm days, his mind always wandered back to the dark days, the cold days spent in solitude.
He hadn’t seen much of the monkey lately, not after the battle. When he does catch glimpses of the other, he's around MK more often than not. Or out and about. Oh, how bad he wanted to seek him out to talk with him, how bad he wanted to fully see his face once more. He must have been sitting a bit longer than a few minutes because by the time he looked at the clock it was already half past 9.
Too caught up in his mind, he didn’t hear the doorbell ring until the second time around, jolting him out of his thoughts. Looking around he realized the noise did come from his door. Using the wall, he slowly lifted himself into a standing position before using it as support, steadily making his way to the front. He honestly couldn’t care what he looked like. Breathing in deeply, he opened the door to see MK standing there, a smile on his face and eyes bright.
He must have looked worse than he thought because after Mk sized him up he could see his smile falter a little bit. However, he straightened once more just a moment later.
“Hi Monkey King!”
“Hey bud, what can I do for you? We don't have training for the day so it's your time off.” Wukong said as he leaned on the door, trying to grin his signature grin before deciding it was too much effort, dropping it to a small tilt of his lips
Mk fidgeted with his hands for a moment, his smile hesitating in a line before rushing his words, “Well I was wondering if you wanted to join me, Mei, Macaque, and the rest of the gang for a movie night. We’re gonna watch all the Laika films, Macaque and Red Son said they hadn’t seen any of them. You don’t have to, I just wanted to ask, I haven't seen you looking too happy lately.” His fidgeting stopped as he looked with an almost pained smile, tense and waiting to see if he would decline.
Oh, he is the sweetest thing you’ve ever met. Why did you do this to him?
Wukong shook his head, he really didn’t feel like or want to face Macaque today. Most days he could shake the dreams off, put on a smile, and mask it as they went, but for some unknown reason, today they lingered. He was going to decline, say he was sick, which wasn’t far off from the truth, but the little glimmer of hope in his eyes stopped the thought completely.
Look who you've put in danger multiple times, for your gain no less. Are you honestly going to ruin his night because you are too weak to shake a couple of memories off? Pathetic.
Contemplating the night ahead, he sighed and gave in, “Of course buddy, I'll come. Let me put on something that isn't my pajamas and I'll meet you there.” Before he could close the door MK stopped him.
“Actually the pajamas are okay, it is going to be a movie night. Just get some snacks and then we can go together.” He beamed in a way that was impossible to backtrack to. He nodded quickly and backed up while turning to go in search of the snacks he requested. Roughly 10 minutes later the two were on Monkey King's cloud heading to MK's house.
He enjoyed the time they spent together, really, it was the feeling of being with someone he missed the most. To wake up and know someone was there anew, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. They arrived too fast, too fast for Wukong to prepare himself for the sight of Macaque. He silently cursed his ability for speed.
Even before landing on the ground, MK jumped off and made his way over to the shop, eager with his arms full of sweets. Wukong took it a little slower. Taking a big ass breath, Wukong put in motion to carefully get down before walking up to MK by the door. He was prepared. He was ready to do this today, he was okay. He could fake it till he made it, as they said he would. Wukong opened the door to the shop only to stop dead in his tracks before fully making it inside.
There in the middle of the room was Macaque, a genuine laugh escaping in puffs and glee in his eyes. He was bent over, slapping his thigh as he continued to laugh for a few moments more, most likely at what Tang had said. He could see tears of mirth pricking at his eyes, his teeth and fangs on display. Wukong almost started to cry right there. His heart did an awful flutter and an even worse tug. His stomach was full of shame along with pleasantry. He was finally happy after all that had happened, that was good. It's good. But he was sick, sick at looking at Macaque.
Look at what he could have had for all these decades, realize what you took from him.
He wasn’t ill because he hated him or was disgusted by him, no, he was sick of himself. He had killed this light. He had ended this man's life many years ago, this joy he had felt was cut short due to his actions. He had ended his life. The thoughts of what they would have been now if he had not been so foolish came slithering back, invading him like an old ugly snake, never entirely leaving him.
He was filled with regret as the world closed in for a moment. His hands started to tremor as he bit his tongue, tasting blood. He couldn’t look at him any longer. The more he did the harder the memories hit.
What was wrong with him today?
You. You're what's wrong today. You are always the problem, no matter what the situation is.
MK moved to the counter to put down the loot before turning to the group, “Alright we're all here, let's set up and get this party started!" Murmurs of agreement went through everyone as they began to prep for the night. Wukong scanned across the room looking for something to do before making eye contact with Macaque. The joy he had seen Macaque display just a split second ago was almost gone, only barely lingering.
After a few seconds, Wukong was the one to pull away first. He heard a faint sigh and shuffling but decided to ignore it in favor of making a beeline to the kitchen. He had calmed down a little bit, but he could still see black spots in his peripheral vision while staring at his shaking hands.
He was tasked to help dish out servings of each snack before giving them out. They had Cheetos, pretzels, dip, any type of lay imaginable, and too much candy for it to be healthy. Everyone went around once to pick a single snack from the middle before repeating it until all of it was gone.
A little under half an hour later everyone was set up and ready to move forward with their movie marathon. They decided to start with Corpse Bride then continue on down the line. He, as a matter of fact, did not want to sit next to Macaque, but he didn’t seem to have a choice where he got to sit when he ended up next to said man on the couch. Pigsy and Tang were placed on the lounge, Sandy and Mei on the sat floor to the left, and Mk and Red son were curled together somewhere on the right.
He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to feel the warmth emitting from the monkey who was now so close, he didn’t want to feel his tail touch the others on accident, and he surely didn’t want to hear the intake of a breath every time something happened on screen.
What was worse was the fact that he could hear his own breathing in his ears, could feel his heart erratically beating against his chest and the sweat that started to accumulate on his hands and down his neck. They had gone through three of the movies so far. Between each show, a singular tribute would walk around the house to turn on all the lights before everyone else got up to take a 10-minute break, then they would come back to the living room and start again.
They had been sitting about an hour and a half into Coraline before Wukong vaguely realized he wasn’t paying attention, too busy trying to calm himself down, thus missing a vital part of the movie which made Macaque jump a little harder than before.
Without realizing it, Macaque's tail made its way to Wukong's, quickly wrapping around his own, lightly squeezing it. The contact made Wukongs whole body hot, sparks of electricity ran from his tail to his head and toes. His stomach almost emptied itself right there on the carpet in front of him, his head swimming too fast. That was the trigger he didn't realize he needed before he reached his limit. Finally, his heart completely stopped as his body shut down, going tense immediately. All he could hear was the static plaguing his ears and the bile that invaded the back corners of his mouth.
You don't deserve that touch.
It's warm now, when was the last time you felt that? You don’t deserve to feel him again, not after what you did.
He couldn’t see correctly, only a second view of Macaque's worried face as he jerked up, tail ripping itself out of the other’s. He then indiscreetly stumbled off the couch, mumbling a quick 'excuse me', before he made his way to the back patio stairs where he swiftly made it out onto the roof.
Since the early evening, the air had cooled to a crisp, the sky a deep orange and purple. You could see the stars begin to disappear into the morning as the sun began to rise. A new day already upon the city, basking them in its soft, dull light. It had to be early in the morning for it to be light out, birds slowly chirped as they too woke up.
He couldn’t breathe, his lungs were full of cotton, hands had long gone numb. His breath became unsteady as the shivers which racked his body became more violent. The cement under his feet began to move and swirl as he struggled to keep himself upright, his vision going dark once more.
You're a cruel man, an ugly, untrustworthy man. You killed him, you cannot touch him, you do not have the right to make him your own. It freezes you to make contact with the moon.
He couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing, couldn’t remember the basics of humanity. The only thing he could remember was Macaque. Macaque was gone, never to be seen again in this lifetime. He only could remember the vile smell of his body degrading as the blood seeping from his head tainted the once beautifully green grass.
You did that, didn't you? You made that mess, you messed it up.
He couldn’t let go of these stupid memories, he couldn’t spare himself one second of not wanting to kill himself for what he had said, what he was going to do, and what he had done. It was all too much, way too much to be here. He shouldn’t be having a panic attack while the others were downstairs trying to enjoy a night they often didn’t get.
Then leave. Leave them behind as you did for him. Find a way to end it, why don’t you? Your protegee is a proven example of whatever you touch exists to be destroyed. You're not a King, you're nothing but a coward, one hidden behind fame he doesn’t deserve.
He wrapped his arms around himself, his claws digging into his arms, trying to distract himself with something other than the storm in his head. He staggered to the edge of the roof where he hit the side, sliding down to the floor. He hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear hit his hand, his mind going black for a second. The tear slowly slipped off his hand onto the floor.
That was it, that was the last straw before he tilted his head up and cried out a broken sound. There was no doubt the others could hear it but he didn’t care. He screamed and sobbed until his voice became raspy and raw, until it was almost lost.
He gripped his head with brutal force, ripping out pieces of his fur. He banged his fist on his temple with one hand as the other gripped his shirt. He bawled until his eyes hurt and his throat begged for mercy.
Why do you still live, oh Great Sage? Why not make use of the ledge you're against and take a jump? Do you think someone will be waiting for you if you don’t? MK can long past handle himself, Macaque doesn’t want you, and not only that, but your old friends are already dead, as your new ones are destined to be. Where you go will not be the same as theirs.
Why do you burden yourself and others like this?
Take the leap.
He didn’t feel any better, but some kind of weight had been lifted. He had kept this in for hundreds of years, hundreds of years with quiet shouts and empty promises to himself, now finally letting it go. He often had panic attacks, but never this bad. He wanted to claw at his arms until they bleed, gouges carved in deep. He wanted to rip out his heart and mind, to bang his head against the wall until he blacked out.
He felt numb as he gradually lifted himself over the wall into a sitting position, leaning hard on the ledge, just over the end, his back to the door. How he badly wanted to let one more tear slide down his scared face, let it fall freely as he too joined the ground.
Then do it.
He was too far gone, too distracted, to hear the door open, where a certain black figure slipped out. Wukong couldn’t see nor hear as he made his way over to the shattered monkey, couldn’t make out the man as he crouched down behind him with a sad smile on his face. He hesitated a bit before reaching out and gently tapping his biceps.
With that single touch, Wukong yanked his arm out of range of the unknown shape, his body moving with the motion. Taking a glance over his shoulder, he frantically tried wiping the tears away, attempting to get a better look at who touched him. When his vision had somewhat cleared, where he could have a better look, Wukong hauled himself up to try and outrun the man without a second thought
Did you have to make him come all the way out here? Are you that selfish to where you thought faking this would snag his attention? Are you that shallow?
Macaque wasn’t about to let him go that easily as he carefully but firmly grabbed onto the fleeting monkey's arm. Wukong turned around, obviously panicked as he tried to wrench himself back, yet to no avail. Macaque's hold was secure and unmoving.
He wants you dead Wukong, he has you alone and your time has come. This is the man you killed, remember? This is something that you have well earned, you know. It's right for you to be killed by the one you held most dear.
Wukong was borderline thrashing, attempting to get away, ripping and tugging at Macaque's hand and his sleeve trying to free himself.
He's simply returning the favor, stop fighting back
“NO PLEASE, let me talk to you, please, No. no..o Macaque, LET me GO PLEASE.”
Wukong could see the worry and confusion in the shadow monkey's face at his outburst, he took it into account but only for a fleeting moment before it was chased away by panic. Macaque had decided to go for both arms to try and hold him down as Wukong was still widely throwing and kicking at him.
Ease this struggling Wukong. This is warranted, the way he's come to end you is warranted. You have done nothing but fuck up his life along with the others around you, they do not care for you in the slightest. You are nothing to this world, lay down and let him take your life, stop living once and for all.
He wailed louder, almost unhinged, “ PLEASE, PLEASE, I KN-OW I DIDN’T LISTEN TO Y-OOU BEFORE BUT-T PLEASE JUST LET ME SAY I'M SORRY. Please Macaque, Plum please!”
After a second Macaque's hold lightened a little, thinking he was letting go he went to use his last strength to snatch his hands back, but was stopped short when he felt one of his hands move to the smalls of Wukong's back while the other made its way toward the back of his head. With that his head was smashed into the other man's neck, both hands holding him in a secure embrace.
Wukong froze, the noise, his heart, as well as his body ceased its panic, stopped its rhythm.
What.
This was so much worse than he could have imagined. He was wrapped in the arms of the one man he wanted to touch so badly, the one he could only admire from afar. He was in the arms of the one he never thought would let him near again. He was finally close again to the love he lost, the bright radiance of his life, the one he snuffed out.
Don't think for a second you deserve this, don't think you've earned this man's kindness, his sweet passion. You don’t have any of this. What he's showing you is pity, disgust in disguise. He doesn’t love you, no one does. You aren’t worthy of anyone's affection, anyone’s time.
The hand on his back started rubbing soft circles near the base of his spine as the one on his head carefully kneaded his fingers into his fur, nearly stroking his worries away. His touch was feather-light, almost nervous at the thought of if he touched him a little too hard he would run. The irony in these thoughts had been correct, just in the wrong ways. He was certain if he continued his delicate touches, he was the one who would run.
They stayed like this for a good minute, just standing there in each other's warmth. Wukong soaking in the attention and tenderness he probably would never receive again, Macaque letting himself bathe in the same attention he was afraid he would lose once more.
The moment Macaque moved his hand from his head Wukong flinched a bit before he stilled. Macaque then lightly moved it to the side of his face to tuck a longer piece of fur behind his ear, that's when he lost it. The tears that he had been desperately trying to hide finally broke free as he let himself shed the tears he never wanted Macaque to see. He let out a pathetic whimper into the neck of the man who was holding him.
He felt Macaque's ear twitch as he felt the arms firmly cradling him strengthening the embrace. He cried harder at the action, the feeling of safety in his arms. Only then, only then did he let himself reach up and grasp at the red cloak he never took off. The one he long ago gifted to him as a birthday present, when it was still lovely and new.
He cried for the ugly feeling in his soul, the greedy part of him who wanted to never move. He cried for the memories of when they were young, careless and in love. He cried for the memories of the beautiful and the tragic parts of his life, their life. All he did was cry, cry for the two long-lost companions, their fates ever intertwining
He didn’t know how long he had cried into his love, how long the man patiently waited for his equal to calm down, whispering hushed promises and sweet words of devotion he's long since lost.
Some time had passed before Wukong's breath finally leveled out and his sobs quieted down. Wukong was still gripping Macaque's cloak as he tried to detangle himself from the crying monkey, eyes still closed. Once free he let his hand rest on Wukongs face as he leaned into the touch. A small smile made its way onto Macaque's face.
Slowly opening his eyes, Wukong's heart broke a little at the sight. There he was, the man he lost so long ago tenderly holding him as he cried like a baby. The whispers in his head were correct, he really didn’t deserve this.
Though he didn’t want to, dropping the cape and folding his arms against his chest, Wukong backed up as he cast his gaze downwards in favor of looking at the ground rather than the hurt look on his face
“I'm sorry for making you come out here, it was just a little too loud. I’m good though, you can go back inside now.” Wukong said in a quiet voice, still not meeting the gaze that he could feel burning into him. He heard a soft scoff followed by shuffling feet. Ones he thought were leaving, but coming closer.
“Really?” He could tell Macaque was offended by the statement, that much was clear. The shuffling came closer until he could see the tips of Macaque's feet. “You're just gonna have a panic attack, cry into my shirt and leave? You're not going to get off your high horse and tell me what the fuck just happened?”
Wukong wasn’t stupid, he knew he was going to be asked about it, he knew that. He wanted it too. He wanted to desperately tell him all that has been on his mind, all that has been eating at him for the last 500 years. He wanted to let down each one of his walls, to let down all he has hidden in favor of knowing this man again.
He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes again, burning behind his skull. He really had cried too much today, he was getting tired of it, he could tell Macaque was too. “I don’t want to bother you any more than I already have. As I said, the volume was just a little too loud, that's all, I swear.” He quickly snuck a glance at the other man's face, disbelief written all over it.
A loud huff rang out in the quiet dawn, “Do you think I'm in fact that fucking stupid?” The hand that had been on his face a minute prior made its way back to his chin, gently tilting it up so he could make eye contact. The funny thing about these eyes, was they were beautiful, now both a pleasant orange with accented circlets of gold. But truly, one of those beautiful eyes was permanently a milky white. One eye was broken and blind, damaged, a mark done by himself.
His right hand came to join his left as he settled them both around the other's neck, cupping his jaw. Both thumbs started rubbing soft arches on his cheeks. Wukongs own hands subconsciously came to take hold of Macaque's cape once more.
Stop this right now, stop letting yourself feed into this false hope. You know this isn't real, you know that, don't you?
“I know when something more than ‘the volume is too loud’ is bothering you. What's actually going on, Wukong?” Macaque’s voice made Wukongs heartbreak even more. It was filled with a sort of fondness he thought he'd never hear again, from him nor anyone.
Wukong tried to speak, tried to spill all that was on his tongue. He wanted to pull Macaque close and whisper his secrets, only for him to hear. Instead, he opted out of looking into the man's eyes to his nose, white dots sprinkled his cheeks and bridge.
That's the white he covers, the only color that shows, under all that glamor is the rest of what you've tainted
It felt wrong to talk too loud, to use a voice higher than a murmur, “Why are you trying to help me?” He started to count the freckles rather than meeting Macaque's gaze, he wouldn’t, not yet.
He heard a small sigh escape Macaque as his thumbs started rubbing circles, “Well,” he started in a light tone, “I thought it was weird that the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven himself, would be sacred of a stop-motion film.” He snickered a little as Wukong frowned, that was gonna hurt his ego if he went back, when he went back.
“I was also thinking about how all day you wouldn’t look at me. You seemed skittish and somehow hurt. I know we aren't on the best of terms, but I would like to call us somewhat close to friends. I was gonna check up on you after the movie but you ran before I could.” His eyes held warmth and something he couldn't quite place. He was asking for an answer, it was clear on his face.
Wukong was weak, he was weak for this man's heart and soul.
But what if he didn’t want to fix this? What if he told him all his guilt, his complete consciousness, and he hated him for it? What if he hated him so much for what he's done, he'll never forgive him? To be honest, he wouldn’t blame him, wouldn’t be mad even a bit.
“I-” He was scared, he was scared for all he was worth, ‘I was avoiding you.”
Macaque snorted then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, startling Wukong a bit from the small outburst. After recomposing himself he made a small continuance motion with his hand. “Anyway, I was avoiding you because I was tired. I just couldn’t deal with you today okay, that's all, that's my excuse.”
Is it honestly? Is that all that there is, are you sure there's nothing else you want to share with him? To share why you're so frail and pitiful? Nothing at all?
“Is it?” Wukong snapped his gaze up, his frown deepening. Macaque's face was now relaxed, calm even.
“What does that mean? Of course, it is.” Wukong wasn’t annoyed at Macaque, no, he was annoyed at himself. Was he really that easy to read? He didn’t want to hide but he didn’t want to tell. He wanted to leave, he needed to get away, but the face of the one he wanted so bad, the face looking at him like he was something above god stopped him. It wasn’t fair to feel this way, to Macaque or himself.
Macaque was patient as he was quiet, simply waiting for Wukong to finally share what's been gnawing at his mind. He was good compared to him, beyond words for kind. He was compassionate and loving and amazing, nothing nor no one could compare.
Do you think he'll ever forgive you for what you did? Do you think he will forgive and forget for killing him? Be completely honest with yourself Wukong, are you worthy of going back?
He wasn't. Not even a little bit.
But.
That look, the attention he's longed for was right there. It was looking at him, an invitation of sorts. He was breaking inside, the walls were crumbling straight into the other monkey's arms, falling into pieces.
The smile he received in kind was what made him finally come apart, the tears he tried to hold back came crashing down in one movement.
“No it's not it. It's not it at all, I'm so sorry Macaque. I'm so sorry for everything I've ever done, I'm sorry for killing you, I'm sorry for fighting you, I'm sorry for hating you so much.” His breath stuttered and hitched when he felt Macaque's thumbs brush under his eyes, catching a stray tear. He broke down harder than before
“I'm s-orry my love, I know I can't do anything to change the past, nor what I've finished, but I'm so sorry.” The light grip that Wukong had on Macaquakes cape tightened, pulling him towards himself a little. Macaque continued catching the tears as Wukong continued to babble his woes.
“I hate myself every day, ev-ery morning for what I've ruined. I hate myself for taking you out of this world, the one you deserved to live in. When I finally understood what I did, I wanted to end my life too. I wanted to end my life so I could find you in the next, to be-g you to forgive me.” Macaque pulled Wukong the rest of the way in, his head now resting atop the Monkey, Wukongs face back into his neck. Macaques arms come to circle his neck in a gentle embrace.
“I'm so sorry for killing you, Plums, for stealing your life away from you. I know I have no right to that name, but please, please let me say it one last time. You don't have to forgive me but please let me stay here for one more moment. I'm so sorry for all that I've put through, for taking your eye and your beauty and your consciousness.”
Macaque's lungs squeezed for the one in his arms, yes, he hated Wukong for what he'd done to him, but the love he held for him shone a little brighter. He’ll always hold a deep-rooted disgust for what he'd been put through, but he didn’t want him out of his life forever. He waited for the chance to come back to his love, the one he lost all those years ago, now in his arms.
Wukong muttered his private thoughts, his most guarded feelings into Macaque's ears. He confessed about the nightmares and the sinking feeling in his gut wherever he saw Macaque, he talked about his hatred for himself, for the ugliness he saw in the mirror every day. He didn’t beg to be forgiven, didn’t plead to take him back, just the want of knowledge that he could hold him one last time
Macaque gave a deep sigh before delicately pushing Wukongs shoulders back, trying to fully see the tearful man. He once more stroked away a single tear from one of Wukongs cheeks, while he lightly placed a kiss on a different one that lay on his other. Wukong gave a sharp intake of breath, not expecting the small display of comfort
Macaque pulled back, a small smile on his face. “I'm not going to sit here and forgive you for everything that's come to pass. I hate you, I always will.” Another tear fell from Wukongs eye, he knew this is what would happen, he knew he was hated, yet the words still cut to his core. “I will resent you forever, I will probably never stop loathing you.” Macaque kissed another tear from Wukongs cheek before continuing.
“But I love you so much, Peaches, I've never stopped. I love you far too much to let you leave permanently. I've missed you a great deal love, more than I could ever truly describe.” Macaque then kissed his forehead, a feather-light one, one made from a promise.
“I've been waiting for decades to meet you again, centuries to see your eyes and smile again. I've waited even in death to apologize for what I did.” He kissed his temple, one made from affection.
“No, Macaque you didn’t do anything, I'm was the one wh-” Macaque cut him off with a peck to the nose, one made from forgiveness.
“I did do something, I impersonated you and fought for your life, tried to make them see how awful you could be. I did do something Wukong, I tried to ruin your life.”
With that Macaque did something he hadn't done in a long time, he softly let the tears slide down his face. It was Wukongs turn to pull back, to reach up and wipe away his quiet sorrows.
“I was so jealous of the new life you lead, so envious of the new friends you made and kept. I was furious at you for leaving and desperate for you to stay, I was blinded and I didn’t know what else to do. I'm so sorry Peaches, I'm so sorry. Neither one of us has an excuse for what happened, both of us young and new to the world. Both so full of life and newfound light. Both so lost in the shadows but of different kinds.”
Wukong had never heard such words from his counterpart, never had he heard the sheer truth.
To be loved is an amazing and illuminated thing, something untouched and brand new. Something full of creations and new beginnings in the world. But to love is one of the most troubling things to be a part of. To sit and love unconditionally, to stand by and love silently, hopeful as one day it might be. But when it never comes to pass, when the feeling is left to the shadows, that is the most excruciating thing one can encounter
This was a sight neither thought they would see, nor be a part of. Both silently weeping away the regret and pain for one another, the years unfolding. The pair wrapped up in whispers of apologies and promises, cloaked in this newfound passion.
Something that they would rather die than break again, to live in lost oblivion once more without one another, somewhere in the dark.
Finally, as the sniffling slowly stopped and their vision cleared, Macaque leaned his forehead against the smaller man as he breathed the words Wukong yearned to hear for over five hundred years.
“Can we go back?”
“Please.”