Work Text:
Fury. Macaque feels it instinctually.
An impulse rushes to his feet to leap forward and tear up the Celestial who dared to...
Whining. Macaque hears it with all his six ears, it sobers him up.
Calm down, the time for revenge will come. Now he needs to pick up Wukong's weakened body. With Macaque on one side and MK on the other, the three of them sink to the stone floor together. While MK watches idly floating Ne Zha with childlike disappointment, Liu Er has all his attention on the king.
Wukong is grasping his head and bowing down so that the ribbons fall down on the sides of his face. He winces but, much like the kid, tries to keep his eyes on... the enemies. He tries to breathe steadily, but his chest moves irregularly and sharply beneath his armor. The hand Mihou holds is trembling as if he overexerted himself with his staff, which hasn't happened for thousands of years. He runs his hand down his elbow, taking his cold and wet palm into his own, and Wukong grabs it like it was the last thing keeping him from falling apart.
Macaque tries not to look at the red head.
"Monkey king, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, bud."
Like hell is he fine.
Ne Zha looks as if he's truly sorry when he turns his back towards them and leaves after his father. But Liu Er couldn't care less about the unfolding drama when there's Wukong who - may the Heavens crush you all - tries his best not to panic because of the headband which once again shackled his head for... the kid. Of course all of it is so that he doesn't look weak in front of him.
Macaque's hands reach out to MK's staff that he pulled out to defend himself. But he uses it for a different reason - to cast a transfer seal. The shadows wouldn't have helped to flee the Underworld Temple - they need to move between the worlds. As soon as the drawing activates, glowing gold, their hands intertwine once again.
Never have the sounds from Flower Fruit Mountain felt so pleasant. The flash scared off the monkeys basking in the last sun rays on a house's rooftop. MK and Macaque fell on it while still holding Wukong on both sides.
"I'm fine, really" he repeated frantically.
"Keep quiet" Macaque scowled while kicking the door open and dragging him in with the kid's help.
They put the King down as gently as possible on the wooden bench in the middle of the only room. Not letting the Kid come to his senses and start worrying for his teacher again, Liu Er grabs his sweater and turns MK towards himself.
"Leave him to me" he says as serious as he could. "Fly to the others and tell them what happened. We have no more allies left."
MK nods, pursing his lips, and gives the last worried look at hardly breathing Wukong. With his hand, he conjures up a fluffy cloud that will take him away.
"Wukong" Mac rushes immediately as soon as they're left alone.
The palms anxiously feel his shoulders, cheeks, paw over red fur, going back to his neck and shoulders.
"Macaque" he's shivering. "It's not real, right? It's just a nightmare, isn't it... right? I... it's not real. It can't be real. It can't..."
His hand reaches up to his head, feeling it with his trembling fingers... the headband. The crown. The torture device. His fingertips slide alongside a thin metal strip which grips his head so tightly he can't take it off. He doesn't even try to - he understands it perfectly. Which makes it even scarier.
Every heartbeat - an ache. Every breath - a struggle. To escape, to free himself... Not claws, not swords, not even his staff could help. To get rid of it... what if he gets rid of his head?
"Wukong!" Mac grabs his hands. "Look at me!"
It's unclear when the glamour spell wore off, revealing Wukong's red bloodshot eyes. He tried to find Macaque using not his eyes, but his ears. Bright spots danced before his eyes. Liu Er puts one hand on his cheek, helping him, guiding him towards himself.
"We'll get through this together, okay? Together now."
He squints, but Wukong finds the strength to smile with the corner of his mouth.
Macaque scolds him quietly while jumping around the cave in search of nice leaves and twigs, because Sun didn't have a nest in the house. He preferred to sleep on this wooden bench as an act of asceticism, or perhaps self-discipline. Old monk quirks. Right now this old God only needed one thing - comfort and safety, and the hard wooden surface with no blanket or rag would only make things worse.
Upon returning home, Macaque quickly checked Wukong. Stroked his frantically heaving chest and hand that gripped the red hair. It meant "I'm here, you're not alone". Then he collects everything he brought to the doorstep and puts it in the nearest warm corner. Break the twigs for more density, sprinkle huge heaps of leaves and grass, fresh and stale. He collects all scents of the "You're Home" Mountain. He takes off his feathered crown, chest armor and cape, because he needs to breathe, to lie down comfortably.
"Wukong" he pulls him up from the bench by his hand. "Let's go."
Monkey King falls into the nest with his heavy body, making a dent in it, where he immediately curls up, tucking his tail under himself. In pain and fear, returning to his old habits, like a young primate trying to calm down, he chatters gutturally, from his chest. Liu Er does not climb up to him right away, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists for a minute, nervously stepping from paw to paw.
Two pairs of boots fall to the floor, pulled off by the black monkey from himself and his fellow. Crushing the twigs with his weight, Mihou awkwardly lowers himself next to Wukong. He needed him now more than ever before - this prompted him to move closer and throw the burgundy cloak on top, covering them both at once.
"Come here" Macaque whispers.
And Wukong crawls onto his shoulder. The golden headband pokes unpleasantly into his collarbone, but Mac doesn't care. He gently kisses his King's forehead, damp with sweat, pushing the wet hair strands away from his face. The kisses touch his temple and then lower - to the cheek. The redhead begins to breathe a little calmer, he catches the palm gently stroking his cheekbone, and kisses it's back. Then the fingers... the first, the second...
"Mihou..."
"Shh, I'm here."
Tails intertwine, they stretch closer, pressing against each other so tightly, as if their bodies were created to complement each other. They even grab each other with their hind legs, intertwining them like palms.
Wukong breathes deeply and evenly in between soft, lazy kisses. Bodies rustle leaves and cloaks, while hands stroke sides and shoulders, run a broad palm along the back, run claws, scratching through clothes, drawing circles and lines, while lips traced the face.
Outside, the presence of the Heavenly Guardians was felt, prowling here and there, looking for fugitives, but Macaque made an insignificant movement of his hand and hid the entire cave of the water curtain in shadows, hiding the presence of the aura of two mystical monkeys. So they would be safe at least for this night.
A movement under the cloak distracted him - Wukong slipped his hands under his body and, hugging him, pulled him even closer by the waist.
"Macaque" his voice is hoarse and bass from fatigue. "Thank you."
Thank you... Mihou rewards him with a soft kiss on his closed eye.
"Sleep now, peach" the black one answers, stroking his head, but then corrects himself, because he is not going to go anywhere. "Let's sleep."
They will return, and Wukong will be ready for anything again, and Macaque will pounce on the culprits at the first opportunity. But now... now he will listen to the quiet breathing until he feels that Sun has fallen asleep, and then he will fall asleep himself. At the end of such a long night, at the junction with dawn, in the flickering of the morning stars. Together.