Yes, it's another shadowpeach fic. What can I say, I finished the chapter today and thought it was good enough to be posted so why not??
Anyway, here is the fic summary :
After the end of season 5, Wukong realize that he doesn't have anything left to teach MK and feels... at the same time proud and sad. He looks back on his life and feels more alone than ever now that his student is stretching his wings.
Simultaneously, there is a strange door appearing in his room leading to a bar selling all kinds love potions. And Wukong thinks that, perhaps, a night of pleasure could help him feel less lonely. Somehow Macaque agree to this madness, and they both drink a potion that helps them forget their fight and heighten their senses, lasting for one night only.
They both didn't expect to enjoy that night so much. Nor did they expect to come back for more.
And now real feelings are getting involved.
⚠️ Wukong is a depressed monkey and there is smut at the end, this will be a porn with plot fic⚠️
The sun was quietly rising on the shimmering mountain. Its lights fell delicately on the wide greenness, awakening the fauna with its kind touch. Flower Fruit Mountain was peaceful. Cicadas sang from the trees’ shades, foxes ran on the velvet moss growing over the hills, herons fished within the crystal-clear streams. Life took its flow. Going and coming like the ebbs of water. Nature was following its path, slowly and with evercoming serenity.
The quietness was disturbed by the noise of weapons colliding against each other. Wukong smiled. Hands gripping his wooden staff with a hold of iron. He could feel the bark creaking under the weight of MK's staff, it whined and cried, unable to whistand this amount of power. MK smirked, eyes twinkling at the coming taste of victory. He pushed harder, trying to bend his mentor's weapon, to make it fall at his feet.
Wukong chuckled. He slowed his breath, letting the energy flowing within him burst inside the wooden weapon. The staff was wrapped in a bright hue. The cracks disappeared and the wood was finally able to breathe. MK groaned, frustrated to see victory slip through his grasp. Wisely, the boy stepped back, knowing he wouldn't be able to overcome his mentor with strength alone. He needed might and guile. Before him stood the epitome of greatness, he needed to push harder.
The two circled each other, staff encased in their palms, sweat gliding on their foreheads. They could taste the tension on their tongues. Wukong looked at his mentee’s form, his feet were well-grounded, his hands used to the feel of the staff, his eyes focused on his adversary. He wasn't trying to show off, nor was he basking in arrogance, instead he looked sharp, sleek like the fox yet mighty like the wolf. Wukong felt his heart flutter with pride. MK progressed so much these last few years. He grew out of his awkward shell, becoming confident but not overly arrogant. He was on the path of greatness.
Wukong patted himself on his metaphorical back. He did an excellent job. Not that he expected otherwise. He was, after all, an excellent teacher (most days, he couldn't help but add bitterly but he chased the thought as easily as it came). Bouts of arrogance put aside, he knew MK was talented since the beginning, he did nothing but let that talent shine through. Whoever the boy became, it was through his own sweat and tears.
MK leaped forward, twirling his staff with little else but violence. Wukong met him head on. They collided once more. Two unstoppable forces pushing against one another. Their exchange was swift. Cutting the air itself. The staffs hit one another. Left. Right. High. Low. They met in an intimate dance familiar to them both. Wukong tried to push the other back with a well-placed sway of tail, but MK was used to his tricks, he wouldn't fall for it. The boy leaped upward and avoided his mentor's tail. Wukong tsked.
MK rolled to the side and ran forward, he was low on the ground, hoping to strike Wukong's blind spot. But the great sage wasn't that easily deceived. The familiarity went both ways. Wukong also knew MK's quirks quite well. He managed to parry the heavy blow and pushed the boy back. MK groaned and glared, upset that his “cool move” was so easily blocked. Wukong smirked. Taunting his student with a rather arrogant flick of hand, luring him forward. Unfortunately, MK wasn't easily riled up, not after being subjected to so much training from the most mischievous (irritating some would say) fighter in all the realms, he took pride in that title.
The battle was fierce. It was a war of nerves as much as it was a war of might. Both their strengths were, if not absolutely equal, at least enough to meet the other heads on. The first to tire would be the one to lose. All they had to do was wait for a sign of weakness. A sign of fatigue. Battles were a game of patience. It took focus, commitment and will to defeat a strong opponent.
They agreed beforehand to not use magic. This was a battle of might. Of strength. Of staffs clashing against one another.
The sun was beginning to peek, glaring down at their meager forms. Their breaths were short, sweat was gliding down their faces. Still, they didn't lose focus. Wukong thrusted his staff forward, he was precise, with no lost footsteps. MK faltered, not expecting the sudden thrust. He stumbled backward, the hold on his staff loosening ever so slightly. Wukong grinned. He felt his heart pound inside of his chest, his blood sing in excitement. This was it. The winning strike. The weakness he patiently waited for, like a predator lurking in the grass.
In a short demi-second, MK twisted his stance and avoided Wukong's strike. The sage didn't have time to truly think about it. Now that his attack failed, his sides were exposed. It was the danger of thrusting forward. If it landed, victory was in sight. But if you failed, it left you vulnerable. Knowing when to attack, and when to step back was a fundamental part of battle. Wukong underestimated his student. He thought MK was too tired to evade his thrust, he thought wrong.
MK didn't have any mercy. He twirled his staff and hit Wukong in the guts, the great sage gritted his teeth, the weight of the staff pushed against his chub. Violent. Unforgiving. Wukong stumbled backward and fell on his butt. He tried to reach for the wooden staff but he wasn't fast enough. MK blocked his path, the tip of his staff falling right above Wukong's eyes.
The great sage looked up, a smile blooming on his lips. He was defeated. He held his hands high, admitting his loss. MK grinned. Excitement twinkling in his eyes. He offered a hand to Wukong, helping him on his feet. The golden-furred monkey dusted himself off and chuckled.
“You got very good at this, bud.” He praised, he patted MK's shoulders in congratulation. MK was practically vibrating with joy.
“He he! Be careful old man, I'll surpass you soon enough.” Snickered the kid. Wukong huffed in amusement. He broke the kid's stance with a sway of tail and made him fall on his butt. “Hey! No fair.” Whined MK.
“All is fair in battle.” Replied Wukong with the uplifting tone of voice he always used when he teached something. He liked to think the voice gave his words credit.
MK jumped on his feet. “I still won.” He huffed with a puffed out chest.
“You sure did.” Replied Wukong with a softer tone, pride bleeding in his voice without his knowledge.
Wukong created a bottle of water with a piece of hair and offered it to his student. MK grimaced, how rude.
“No thanks. I have my own water.” Declined the kid, he went to fetch his bag (that he left on the side) and took out a water bottle. Wukong shrugged and drank his hair-conjured water. He didn't understand why hair-food seemed to disgust others so much. It wasn't unhygienic, contrary to what pompous black-furred assholes seemed to think, but in fact very practical. He had a full pantry at disposition no matter the time of the day. How cool was that? Once you got over the disturbing thought of what exactly the food was made of, it was the greatest ability to have.
They both sat in the shades, resting from their intense battle.
“How are things going in town?” Asked the great sage as he leaned on the tree, arms carelessly crossed behind his head.
“Things are a bit hectic.” Sighed the kid, now that Wukong looked closer, he could see circles under the boy's eyes. Wukong couldn't help but worry. He hoped the boy was taking care of himself. Mortals were so frail. They could fall at one push of his fingers. Wukong gulped and brushed the thought away. He didn't like to lose himself in this type of consideration. “Everyone got powers since the pillar was healed. They're so many problems and new villains.” Groaned the kid.
Wukong flinched at the pillar’s mention. He didn't like to think about it. Mere words of it were enough to make him shrink in his own skin. It made him think of unpleasant memories. Of crushing feelings weighing on his very heart. Wukong closed his eyes, refocusing on the moment, and brushed aside the memory. He was good at that. Stuffing unpleasant thoughts in boxes and shoving them deep in his mind.
MK's phone rang. The Monkie Kid theme echoed all around them, breaking the peaceful quietness. The boy flinched and took out his phone. He smiled when he recognized the blurry image of his best friend. It was the image of Mei pumping her first in the air after winning the best score at Monkey King the Arcade Game. She was so excited that day, unable to keep still, MK had failed to take a proper picture of her. But in a way, he thought the blurriness reflected her perfectly. It encompassed her chaotic nature.
MK read the message and smiled. He turned towards his mentor and scratched his neck, looking apologetic. “I, huh, I have to go. The city is being attacked again.”
Wukong subtly swallowed his disappointment. If he had to be honest, he didn't get that much time with MK. The boy was already so strong. He didn't need that many lessons anymore. In fact, their occasional sparring matches were more of a formality than anything. It's not as if the boy never visited. He was no stranger. But… he wasn't as present as he used to be. If he was totally honest, Wukong could admit he missed him. Nonetheless, the great sage didn't want to force the kid to be with him. He didn't want to intrude too much in his life.
The golden-furred monkey kept his emotions in check, he turned towards the kid and smiled at him. “Good luck with that, bud.” Snorted Wukong. “Kick some butts for me, kay?”
MK chuckled. He picked his bag and swung it on his shoulders. He dusted himself off and began to jog. He turned one last time and waved energetically at his mentor before running off far from Wukong's sight. The golden-furred monkey eyed him until he disappeared from sight. His hands twitched in want. He wanted to reach for him but he restrained himself. He didn't want to be overbearing.
Wukong sighed and looked up. The sky was obstructed by the tree thick foliage. Pieces of blue interlaced with greenery. It was a peaceful day. The sun was at its peak. Glaring down on the mountain serene lands. But no matter how beautiful the day was, Wukong couldn't help but feel bitter. He didn't like to feel like that. He didn't like to feel this familiar ache. He knew it very well. He felt it long ago when he buried the last of his brothers under a mountain. When he looked back behind him and realized no-one managed to follow him. It was quite a peculiar feeling. To realize he was on his own. To realize that every bond he managed to create was either shattered by his own hands, or lost to the passage of time.
Loneliness, for him, was as familiar as the taste of peaches.
Wukong sighed and rose. He stretched and walked off towards his hut, picking up a fallen peach on the way. He bit into the fruit, drinking the familiar sweetness. It wasn't as sweet as it used to. Or perhaps he was just not in the mood for a peach. One of his monkeys, curious little furball, jumped on his shoulder and tugged at his fur. Wukong looked up and chuckled. He scratched under the little one's chin and smiled at the monkey's pleased face.
“You want that?” Hummed Wukong as he nodded towards his half-bitten peach. The monkey chittered in delight.
The little one grabbed the fruit and took a large bite out of it. Wukong smiled. He let the monkey stay on his shoulder, enjoying the touch. He unconsciously leaned towards the little monkey, inhaling the familiar earthly scent. The touch felt good. It tickled his very core.
Gods, perhaps he was more touch-starved than he thought.
***
The day was bleak. The sun was hidden underneath milk-white clouds, not able to pierce the thick layer of fog. It was quite early. The dew was still quite fresh on the forest leaves. Wukong was sitting before a cliff. He was looking at the sharp steep, eyes lost on the pointed rocks. He didn't have vertigo. High heights did nothing to him. In fact, they attracted him more than anything.
There was something about being on top of a cliff that was electrifying. A sense of empowerment. As if the world was under his hands. Wukong always liked the sight. The feel of the wind. The sound of the squalls. He remembered spending long hours on top of cliffs, watching the horizon, laughing with the wind, looking at his side to find another laughing monkey. A monkey with fur as black as night, with eyes as glimmering as gold. Wukong froze… He brushed the memory aside, pursing his lips in thought.
He looked up at the hidden sun and sighed, it was time. He summoned Nimbus with a flick of the wrist and hopped on it . He flew off the cliff, disappearing into the horizon. The flight was short. He knew the path by heart and his loyal steed was the fastest in all the three realms. The place he was searching for wasn't far. It stood at the foot of the mountain. Wukong hopped off his cloud and dived in the hidden alcove, he brushed aside the wines and entered the quiet place.
It was intimate. Covered in moss and flowers. Wukong took well-care of the place. He sat before four white stones aligned within the soil. His throat was tight. His heart was trembling. He took some papers he prepared beforehand and created four origami papers shaped like his late brothers; he placed the origamis before the graves. Wukong conjured incense sticks and set them down, he ignited them with a flick of wrist.
The scent of sandalwood washed over the serene place. He inhaled the familiar smell. Finding comfort in it. He closed his eyes and prayed, reciting buddhist sutras. Once he paid his respect, he looked at the graves, silent. He wondered… should he seek advice on his apparent touch-starvedness? It's not as if anyone would judge him here. It was just him and the spirits of his brothers.
“The kid is doing good.” Began Wukong, he straightened himself, remembering how nitpicking his Master could be about his posture. “You know… the one I talked to you about.” No-one answered, but he liked to think his brothers’ spirits floated behind the stones, watching over him with indulgence. “He's doing so good… I don't think he needs me anymore.”
And that was the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't bear the thought of not being needed by MK. He wondered… If he wasn't the boy's mentor, then who was he to him? But at the same time, he was so proud of MK for becoming so strong in such a short amount of time. Feelings were contradicting themselves inside of his chest. Pride and fear warring with each other. And in the midst of the storm, loneliness took roots.
He was lonely.
He felt lonely.
Wukong sighed and closed his eyes. Memories unfolded under his eyelids.
Wukong huffed. He watched the family of two hug their sons as if he'd disappear the moment they'll let go. He found the scene ridiculous. Why were they acting so pathetically? It's not as if they won't saw each other again.
“Why are they being so dramatic?” Mumbled Wukong as he crossed his arms. His Master, who was by his side, tilted his head at his question and hummed in thought.
“It is hard sometimes to let someone you care about go away.” Wisely answered the monk.
“Still, they act like he's gonna disappear.” Tripitaka chuckled, he shook his head, as if what Wukong said was somewhat funny. Wukong hated when he acted like this, as if the great sage was missing an important factor.
“People feel a sense of loss when they let someone go.”
“Well if they don't want him to go that much they just have to keep him.” Replied the golden-furred monkey with a flick of hand, as if his answer was obvious.
“You can't trap the people you love.” Sighed the monk. He added, with an indulgent smile. “You have to let them spread their wings.”
Wukong huffed. He still thought mortals were too dramatics but he wisely chose to not argue further. Then, quite mischeviously, he added :
“Would you cry like that if I ever go away, Master?” Snickered the golden-furred monkey as he nodded towards the crying mother. Tripitaka fondly rolled his eyes, he pretented to be deaf and turned away. Wukong didn't let him get away, he ran after him and pestered him all day.
Secretly, he hoped his Master would share a tear or two if he ever decided to go.
Wukong smiled at the memory, he understood better now how important it was to be able to let go. No matter how difficult it felt. How terrifying it could be to lose your place in someone's life. MK was spreading his wings, and even if it meant that he would spend less time with him, that he would be more independant, Wukong couldn't prevent him from growing. The best he could do was support him in silence.
Still, this revelation didn't truly help his current problem. He still felt…lonely. The ache inside of his chest didn't disappear. Especially today. It was difficult to face this day, for a long time he had not been able to visit his brothers’ makeshift graves without drinking himself stupid. It was easier to let his mind drown in alcohol than to let it fester with somber thoughts. Wukong still saw flashes of them sometimes. One robe, one picture that reminded him of them. And sorrow took him in its bosom. He couldn't… fill the emptiness they left behind, with time it became bearable, but he never managed to fill it.
Loneliness was a crushing curse. Before MK came into his life, Wukong hadn't been in the best of headscape. He realized that the world left him alone. His sworn-brothers falling at his own hands, as if his own touch was cursed by death itself. His pilgrim brothers falling because of the very thing he was afraid of : mortality. He…he had driven everyone out of his life one way or another.
Even his dearest friend, made of midnight dreams and soft ears… He managed to put his own shadow in the eternal soil.
It was him and his monkeys. And don't misunderstand him, he loved his monkeys dearly. But they couldn't understand all of him. Those sweet fellas were wild little things, they understood the monkey-part of his being, but the more human-part (the one filled with so much brimming emotions) was something they couldn't grasp. And Wukong longed for that… he longer to be understood, to be held, to be… existing with someone.
Wukong sighed, he brought his hands to his face and wiped away the tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. “I… I miss you.” He mumbled, he tried to not let his tears fall, but that wasn't a battle he could win.
They fell on his cheeks. Burning drops of sorrow. First quiet, then overbearingly loud. Loss wasn't something he could get used to. It seized you in the most violent way. An invisible hand grasping your very heart. It was encompassing, but also terrifying. He feared to forget their faces, to see their memory erased by the passage of time. Perhaps irrationally, keeping the memory of them alive comforted him, made him think that they weren't totally gone. A foolish thought feeding an even more foolish heart.
Wukong didn't know how long he stayed bent there, on his knees, with tears falling down his cheeks. Eventually he decided to go.
He didn't want to be alone today. He hoped someone's company could make him forget, or better, could comfort him in his sorrow.
There was someone on this mountain he could try to see… but the asshole would laugh at his misery. But perhaps being laughed at was still better than to wallow in loneliness. Misery loves company after all. He learned at his own expense that monkeys were extremely social creatures, and he wasn't exempt from that rule, no matter how much he wished he was.
Wukong applied glamors on himself, picked up some plums along the way as a peace offering and set off to Macaque's cave, hoping his dark counterpart wouldn't turn him away on sight.
***
His relationship with Macaque was odd, to say the least.
They weren't at each other's throats anymore, but they weren't very close either. In fact, they were stuck in a strange in-between. Not-totally enemies but not-very friendly either. Wukong knew they weren't totally hopeless. He saw Macaque reach for his hand more than once. That had to mean something, didn't it? Granted, those times always happened in the midst of world-ending situations, and it was quite discouraging to realize they managed to be honest only if their lives were on the line, but at the very least Macaque still showed some signs of yearning. That had to be significant, didn't it? At least that's what Wukong told himself to ease his doubts.
Macaque was…hard to read, to say the least. Which was quite confusing, considering Mihou had been an open book for Wukong back in the days. It was bittersweet to realize he didn't understand Macaque like he used to. That he couldn't immediately know what was going on in his head. His friend changed in ways he couldn't even begin to understand, as he changed too from the monkey he once was.
Time didn't have mercy on them.
Wukong took a deep breath and entered Macaque's cave. The black-furred monkey settled on the east side of the Mountain, inside a shadowed cave standing by the beach. Wukong never truly went inside. He never bothered, really. Macaque was usually the one to seek him out. Oftentimes to annoy the hell out of him. The dark-furred asshole seemed to flourish in his frustration.
“Well I didn't expect visitors today.” Macaque’s voice echoed around the cave. Bouncing off the walls. Wukong groaned. He hated when the others did that. It gave him chills. And not the good kinds.
Macaque deigned to step out of the shadows, he looked as annoying as Wukong remembered. With his stupid smirk, and his overly-dramatic manners. What an eyesore. Wukong huffed and lazily handed the basket of plums, Macaque accepted the peace offering and happily dived in the pile of fruits.
“You should be honored to have me coming here.” Hummed Wukong.
Macaque rolled his eyes, he ushered the King outside of his cave, perhaps not wanting him to invade his personal space. Wukong winced at the thought. He shouldn't have entered Macaque's cave like that. He didn't want to step over the frail boundaries existing between them. “Pardon me, your majesty. Of course having your esteemed self here is such a blessing, want me to kiss your ass too?” Mocked the black-furred monkey as he bit into a fresh plum, Wukong huffed in amusement.
“What do you want?” Added Macaque, more seriously.
They walked along the coast line, Wukong tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't give away his needs for company. “Can't a King check on his own island?”
“Oh so you coming here was just a coincidence?” Laughed the black-furred monkey, as expected not all fooled by Wukong's performance.
“Maybe it was.” Hummed the great sage.
“And the basket? Another coincidence?” Wukong shrugged, wisely choosing to not reply. Macaque rolled his eyes, a hint of fondness in his look. They stayed quiet after that, resuming their walk along the coast.
Wukong, unable to stay silent for too long, began to chat about MK's progress. Macaque pretended to be disinterested but Wukong could easily see through his facade, the black-furred monkey was intently listening, ears fully turned towards him. They were both lulled in a sense of comfort. It's been a long time since he managed to enjoy time spent with Macaque.
Perhaps, he was too comfortable. His tongue slipped before he could stop it.
“You know… It’s the pilgrims death anniversary today. That's why I came.” He knew, the moment he saw Macaque's face harden, that he said the wrong thing. It's not as if he wasn't aware of Macaque's distaste for the pilgrims, but he let it slip off his mind, too caught up in the present peacefulness to remember that everything wasn't alright between them.
Macaque stopped walking. He pursed his lips and looked away, Wukong swore he saw something akin to hurt swirling in his gaze. “Yeah, figures you wouldn't come here just for lil old me.”
“No, that's not-” But Wukong couldn't finish his sentence.
“So what, you expected me to pity you? Comfort you?” Macaque hissed, face distorted by growing anger. Wukong felt his own skin burn with shame… Perhaps, that's what he had hoped for, in the darkest corners of his mind he could admit it.
“Of course not. I wouldn't come to you for that.” Huffed Wukong, on the defensive.
“Yeah, right. You don't deserve to be comforted. Not when you mess up that much.” Hissed the black-furred monkey, tone rising despite their common tiredness.
Wukong felt his heart tighten. Guilt was something he was familiar with. He was aware he messed up a lot. But he didn't want to hear that from Macaque of all people. “That's rich coming from you.” Groaned the golden-furred monkey.
Macaque flinched, he growled and averted his eyes. “At least I didn't drive everyone I cared about away. Even MK is leaving now.” Spat the black-furred monkey, as cold as ice, as cruel as the blade swinging down your neck.
Wukong flinched. He averted his eyes, not wanting to hold Macaque's sharp gaze. The black-furred monkey grimaced, as if regretting his own words. Macaque raised his hand but let it fall down before he could reach Wukong.
“You should go home, Wukong.” Quietly Mumbled Macaque before falling in one of his portals. Wukong’s eyes lingered where Macaque disappeared. Throat tight.
He went back to his hut and spent the rest of the day in his bed, curled around himself, arms wrapped around his own chest, pretending that it was someone else's. He tightly shut his eyes and let himself feel the ocean rumbling in his chest, crying openly.
He just wished someone could hold him.
Wukong fell asleep, unaware of the door appearing in his room.
***
Wukong's eyes fluttered open, he rolled in his sheet and pressed his head against his pillow. The sun was slipping under his curtains, pouring in the room. He didn't want to wake up. In fact, he didn't want to do anything. Yesterday tired him. He could feel the weight of his tears dragging his eyes, his head pounding after the mess he put his heart through.
The great sage sighed, he wasn't feeling that hungry either. The day just felt… bleak. It didn't really matter if he didn't leave his sheets, did it? It's not as if the monkeys needed him, nor did MK. The thought hurts, but he repressed the whine bubbling in his throat before it could pass his lips. The world was going on without him. He could take a day-off.
Wukong noticed the door standing in the middle of the room and groaned. Of course, trouble found him even when he wanted nothing more but to bury himself in his sheets and sink into nothingness. The great sage dragged his body upward and walked towards the door. It stood there. Unapologetic. The great sage frowned. It was fairly simple yet quite elegant, made of somber sandalwood. The handle was made of silver, glistening under the sun's frail light. If he looked closely, he could spot fine cursive spelling Love Bar engraved in the wood. What a peculiar name. Quite tacky if he may say.
Wukong tried to open the door but it was locked. It didn't open no matter how much he tried. The great sage huffed in frustration and decided to let go, he buried himself in his sheets and ignored the door altogether. He didn't want to deal with this today.
Hours passed, the sun rose until it took its rightful place within the sky's heart. Monkeys came to see him, perched on his windowsill, chirping invitingly. He glanced at them, seeing the sun peeking behind them, beautiful, bright, too bright for what he was feeling right now. He didn't want them to see him like this. He didn't want the light to shine on everything that was wrong with him. Wukong smiled at them, unnaturally, and shooed them away with gentle words.
The monkeys lingered, hesitant, but they weren't patient to begin with. The furballs left the windowsill, running after each other. Wukong drew the curtains tighter and dived back in his sheets, hiding.
Eventually, he felt the weight of the bed shift. Wukong peeked from his sheets and frowned. Macaque was there. Innocently sitting on the far-off side of the bed. He probably came through one of his portals. He wasn't looking at him, instead fidgeting with his scarf, the way he always did when he felt uncomfortable.
“You're not saying anything?” Eventually Mumbled the black-furred monkey.
“Not in the mood.” Curtly replied the great sage, hoping his voice wasn't too crackled by his recent crying fit. The last thing he wanted was for Macaque to know he cried.
“The monkeys said you didn't even eat peaches today. Didn't think I'd see the day.” Awkwardly chuckled his dark counterpart, Wukong didn't answer. He didn't want to reveal how peaches were becoming less sweet. How the sun was shining less brighter. How the grass didn't feel as soft as it used to. His world was becoming grim, and somehow he was ashamed of that.
“Look I…”Macaque sighed and raked a hand in his fur. He looked quite disheveled. Wukong wondered if he cried too. “I went too far yesterday.” That was probably the closest he would get to an apology. Wukong sighed, he sat up and looked at Macaque. His dark counterpart was not looking back, keeping his eyes on the end of his scarf.
“You weren't.” Replied Wukong. “I do drive everyone away.” He admitted quietly.
“You didn't drive MK away.”Sighed Macaque, he frowned, as if struggling to put his thoughts in cohesive sentences. “I shouldn't have said that.”
“But I keep failing him.” Groaned Wukong, he laid back on the wall and looked up helplessly, hoping some of the answers he was looking for would be etched on the ceiling. This wasn't the first time he thought about this. He knew he wasn't the greatest mentor, but somehow he couldn't help but feel like he failed…
“You…” Macaque wasn't able to finish.
“I failed every step of the way. Somehow, everything I could have messed up, I did.” Mumbled Wukong, he passed a hand on his face, eyebrow pinched in frustration. He didn't want to talk about this, but the words didn't want to stop. They just kept flowing. Revealing his darkest thoughts. “The samadhi fire, the Bone Demon, the scroll of memory and now the pillar of light. I failed every single time. I tried so hard and it's never enough. Somehow, he is always the one saving me, always the one shouldering everything. And I can't make it up to him because I don't even have anything left to teach him. I just…I'm tired of always making the wrong choices.”
Wukong sagged on the wall, shoulders lowering in defeat. It was bitter to admit it, but he couldn't ignore the thought either. He knew he was meant to make mistakes, that it was alright to be wrong, but he couldn't help but think he hadn't been enough for the kid. He knew that MK wasn't as fine as he pretended he was. That what he was shouldering stressed him out. And Wukong didn't want him to carry that burden, but it seemed that every time he tried to shoulder the pain, he failed. He was either possessed, trapped in a scroll, or unable to act because of a circlet… every time he felt… useless.
“I don't even know why I'm talking to you about this.” Humorlessly chuckled the great sage. He looked at his dark counterpart, Macaque's expression was hardened by something Wukong couldn't identify. The black-furred monkey tentatively raised his hand, but stopped himself before he could reach Wukong.
Why was he always stopping?
Wukong didn't want him to stop.
The silence was broken by the sound of a lock opening. Both monkeys flinched, they turned towards the sudden sound. The door standing in his room was ajar. A faint smell of sweetness was coming from the door. Enticing. Luring. Macaque cleared his throat and brought his scarf higher, hiding himself in the cloth.
“Was the door always there?” Asked the black-furred monkey, wisely choosing to change the subject. Wukong looked at him (he was as taut as a drawn bow string) and sighed.
Vulnerability didn't suit them. It was better to change the subject.
“Appeared out of nowhere.” Shrugged the great sage. He discreetly wiped away the wetness veiling his eyes, his earlier admissions did take a toll on him. Macaque hummed, he approached the door and studied it.
“Should we go in?” Asked the black-furred monkey.
“Well now that it's open it'd be criminal not to.” Snorted the great sage, he mainly wanted something to change his mind from his rather embarrassing admissions. He opened the door and dived to the other side, Macaque cautiously followed after him.
The door was connected to a dim-lighted bar. The establishment was somber, almost intimate. Wukong slowly walked forward, Macaque on his heels. They weren't a lot of people, most clients were scattered around tables hidden behind blaring red curtains. A heady smell was floating around the place. Enticing. Strangely sweet. Wukong could taste it on his tongue. It was almost beckoning, like a siren's song.
A countertop was standing at the back. The design was simple, refined, brightened by pale red lights. The barman looked quite peculiar. He had the nose of a rabbit, yet the sleekness of a fox. He looked up at the monkeys and smiled, his teeth glistening unnaturally.
Somehow, he reeked of celestials.
“My, my, what surprising clients.” Purred the barman, he leaned over the countertop, his eyes sweeping over both monkeys. The great sage huffed, not at all intimidated. He looked around before diving in the barman's gaze. Macaque stayed behind, arms crossed over his chest, as silent as ever.
“What is this place?” Asked Wukong.
“The Love Bar.” Answered the barman, he stepped back and gestured to the vast collections of bottles standing behind him. Each bottle had its own design and colors. “Where the lonesome comes for love.”
“That's interesting, bud. But what I want to know is why your bar's door appeared in my room?”Snorted Wukong as he settled on one of the barstools and crossed his arms, expectant. Macaque didn't sit, instead he put one of his arms over the countertop and leaned closer to the barman.
“You reek of celestials.” Hummed the black-furred monkey with narrowed eyes. The barman gulped and wisely chose to take a step back from the warrior.
“If the door appeared to you, that means you wanted it to.” Hummed the barman, quickly changing the subject from his celestial smell. He took one menu laying around the bar and pushed it towards the monkeys. The great sage raised an eyebrow. He hoped he wasn't being scammed. The guy did look quite suspicious.
Both monkeys leaned over the menu, skimming over the numerous drinks depicted there. They both grimaced when they realized what was being sold exactly.
“You sell love potions?” Growled Wukong, he knew how harmful those kinds of drinks could be, especially in the wrong hands. The barman held his hands in defeat, trying to look innocuous.
“I know what you are worried about but I assure you the bar is very strict with its potions.” Nervously chuckled the barman, his nose twitched, not unlike the one of a rodent. “Potions cannot be taken outside of the bar, and every party must be willing before drinking a potion.” Wukong hummed, well at least those kinds of rules could prevent disasters from happening. Still… This kind of establishment seemed dangerous.
Macaque huffed. “Why would people willingly drink a love potion?”
“... Many people don't like to be alone.” Both monkeys flinched at the barman's words, they averted their eyes and bit their lips. The barman raised an eyebrow at their peculiar reaction. Then, slowly, a glint of recognition ignited in his eyes. The barman smiled softly. “Why don't I give you both a free sample, as a gesture of good faith.”
The barman turned towards his large collection of bottles, his long white hair danced at each of his steps. His finger brushed against many labels before settling in one in particular. He took a bottle made of red-tinted glass, it was as round as the world, engraved with an image of a sprout. The barman hummed, he took two long glasses with wide mouths and poured the potion in. The liquid was quite pale, as light as the first blushes provoked by young love. The barman diluted the potion with a darker syrup and blended the two liquids together, they swirled around one another in harmony. He put two orange slices shaped like moons on the glasses’ lips.
He pushed the two glasses towards the monkeys. “This is not our most famous cocktail but I think it's the one that suits you two the best. And Rati's brew never fails.”
Wukong eyed his cocktail. It smelled sweet, not too strong, but not too light either. It smelled of fruits and grass. It was quite clear, the two colors swirled around one another, joining but never merging.
“What does it do?” Suspiciously asked Macaque.
“It's one of our lighter cocktails. It's named Sweet Dream.” Informed the barman. “It… doesn't touch your mind, nor your heart. It makes you bolder and more…sensual. It also numbs the negative feelings. It lasts one night only.”
“Numbs the negative feelings, huh ?” Repeated Wukong. That was quite tempting. He had a lot of thoughts he wanted to flee from. He traced the edge of the glass and pondered.
Macaque looked his way and frowned. “You're not thinking of drinking that, are you?” Accused the black-furred monkey.
“It doesn't smell dangerous.” It didn't have the pungent scents he often associated with love potions. In fact, this one's smell was more refined, delicate. His eyes also didn't reveal anything too threatening. There was no mind spell imbued in the drink.
“That doesn't mean it's not a bad idea.” Huffed the warrior.
“Bad ideas never stopped me before.” Shrugged the golden-furred monkey. Macaque’s shoulders lowered, he looked at his lighter counterpart with a more serious gaze.
“Are you serious about this?” Wukong averted his eyes, he didn't like that specific look.
“I'm just tired.” He mumbled. Macaque flinched, perhaps he wasn't expecting his voice to sound so defeated. The warrior frowned, he then sighed and picked up his glass.
“Fuck you. You and your bad decision.” Groaned the macaque as he brought the glass closer to his lips and took a sip. Wukong chuckled. He picked his own glass and gulped it down.
“Bad decisions are the most fun.” The potion tasted sweet. It was like drinking silk. Soft and tickling, it fell down his throat pleasantly.
“I wish you a good night.” Snorted the barman as he watched both monkeys leave the bar.
Wukong didn't feel that different. He was… warm. Like something sweet veiled his chest. Like being coddled by the very thin haze of alcohol. It didn't numb your mind, but it did break your inhibitions down. The golden-furred monkey closed the door and turned towards his dark counterpart.
“If I die because of this potion I'm gonna haunt you.” Groaned Macaque. Wukong looked at his back. A wide, beautiful expanse of fur hidden behind silky cloth. Wukong's hands twitched… he wanted to touch him. He wanted to touch someone. He wanted someone to touch him.
Perhaps the potion did make him bolder, because he knew for a fact that he would have never dared to do this otherwise. Wukong walked closer and hugged Macaque from behind. The black-furred monkey tensed.
“This is not a good idea.” Sighed Macaque as he felt Wukong rubs circles on his hips.
“We can blame it all on the potion.” Whispered the golden-furred monkey, he let his nose brush against Macaque's neck. Inhaling the familiar smell. His tail began to wag without his consent. Perhaps he was a bit too bold. But, maybe for the first time of his life, he didn't care. It was like his fears, his doubts, his pains took a backseat. Like they fell asleep for one singular moment.
Macaque turned his head his way. His eyebrows were pinched together, yet he didn't seem as cold as he could have been. The light in his eyes was almost soft. Like soft luring honey. The warrior scrutinized his face, then his eyes fell on his mouth. “We'll never talk about this.”
Wukong chuckled. “What happens here, stays here.” Hummed the great sage, eyes falling on every curve of the other face, his favorite being the very small one hidden on his lips.
“You always drag me in your messes.” Muttered the black-furred monkey, he instinctively leaned closer, his breath fanning Wukong's face.
“You like it.” Snorted the golden-furred monkey as he pressed even closer, tail wagging harder. He hoped Macaque couldn't see it.
“You're too full of yourself.” Huffed his dark counterpart, he didn't let Wukong answer, he sealed his lips with his own. The touch light. Fleeting. Wukong closed his eyes, he breathed out, enjoying the simple press of their mouths. Macaque fully turned towards Wukong, he grasped at his shirt, hands fisting the fine silk. Wukong hummed, the sound echoing on Macaque's own lips.
They stood there for a long time. Frozen together in the lightest of touch. Wukong put one of his hands on Macaque's lower back and pushed him closer. Their hips pressed against one another. Macaque felt right in his arms. Like a missing piece. Wukong let his hand fall lower, brushing against where the other tail began, he rubbed circles against the pants, occasionally twirling a piece of fur around his finger.
Macaque briefly licked his lips, hinting at something deeper. Wukong kept his lips firmly shut. Not wanting to give-in too easily. It was quite satisfying to frustrate the other. Macaque tsked, he licked the honeyed lips with more insistence, but Wukong refused to open-up. Fed up with the King's attitude, Macaque bit his lips. It didn't hurt, but it did surprise Wukong enough to make him gasp. The warrior didn't waste the opportunity, he dived in the hot cavern with excitement.
Wukong chuckled. “Brute.” He whispered against the other's lips.
“Tease.” Replied Macaque before diving back in the King's warm mouth. Their tongues tentatively brushed against one another, slowly exploring the uncharted territory. Wukong groaned, feeling more and more hazed by the numbing feeling of the other's mouth. It was like fire was flowing in his veins. Encompassing. Pushing. Sweet. Wukong let his hands wander, he grabbed a fistful of the other's ass, it was firm, yet soft, he felt his dick twitch in his pants.
Macaque trilled. Something breathy, high-pitched that lost itself in Wukong's mouth. “Really?” Huffed Macaque with a raised eyebrow.
“They have a mind of their own.” Cheekily hummed Wukong as he shamelessly kneaded the other's ass. Macaque rolled his eyes, he managed to escape Wukong's tight grasp (for the sage great disappointment) and sat on the bed, legs open. The great sage shamelessly let his eyes rake over his figure.
“I'm not gonna wait eternally.” Mumbled Macaque. Wukong gulped, feeling his eyes darken with an unfamiliar desire. He wasn't used to the throes of lust. It's not as if he never felt it. He had his moments. But the occasions to indulge had been few and in-between.
The golden-furred monkey slowly approached, he cupped the other cheeks and crawled over, sitting in his lap. He let his thumb brush against the other lips, expanding the wet shine left behind by their earlier make-out session. Macaque eyed his finger dangerously, he kissed it, making Wukong shiver, and bit it. The sage winced, but he didn't take his finger back.
Macaque was quite the biter.
Wukong kissed the warrior's chin, he slowly removed the other scarf, letting the offending cloth fall behind. Wukong mapped out the other's neck with his lips. The smell. The feel. The warmth. It was all so incredibly familiar yet so very new. A world he didn't know of. He wanted to explore every nook and crannies. Know every place by heart. Macaque bared his neck, eyes half-lidded. Wukong paid attention to the way his breath hitched when he grazed particular spots. He assaulted those spots. Lavished them with licks and kisses. Made Macaque sing under his hands.
He could feel the hums of magic under his lips. But he didn't comment on it. He had his own fair share of glamors after all.
Macaque grasped Wukong's hips and brought him closer. Their crotch pressed against one another. Wukong gasped, feeling his fastly hardening member pressing against the other most intimate place. He tentatively rolled his hips forward, smiling when he managed to make Macaque moan. The black-furred monkey threw his head backward and grunted, Wukong's dick twitched violently at the sound, surprising even himself. He slowly rolled his hips, taking the time to truly grind against the other crotch in the most delicious of ways, but not fast enough to deliver them from the fire of lust and make them finish.
Macaque was panting quite hard, Wukong could feel his member hardening against his own. It was quite addictive. The black-furred monkey straightened himself and clumsily tugged at Wukong's shirt, trying to remove it. The great sage chuckled at his empressment, he removed his shirt and threw it away. Macaque eyes raked over his form. He slowly kneaded his chub.
“Cute.” Muttered Macaque as he familiarized himself with the soft belly.
“You're the cute one.” Huffed Wukong as he gently pushed Macaque back, pinning him against the mattress. The golden-furred monkey eagerly got rid of Macaque's shirt and eyed his chest. He tentatively touched the other's torso, letting his fingers map out the wide expanse of fur. Macaque had thinner fur on his belly, making it more sensitive. He gasped when Wukong grazed the place.
“Why are you the one on top?” Complained Macaque even if he looked like he quite enjoyed Wukong caresses.
“Because I am.” Chuckled Wukong. He played with the hem of Macaque's pants, but the other stopped him before he could let his wandering hands slip inside, grabbing Wukong's wrist.
“I don't know if I'm… ready for that.” Winced the black-furred monkey.
Wukong removed his hands from Macaque's pants. The last thing he wanted was to make the other uncomfortable. Even if he would've have liked to see what the rather obvious bulge in Macaque's pants hid, he wasn't going to force the other if he didn't want to shed his pants. “It's okay, we can keep the pants on.” Hummed Wukong, he had plenty of others things to explore after all. He returned to Macaque's chest, cupping the peck in his mouth, while also grinding against the other's apparent member.
Macaque keened, he threw his hands over Wukong's neck, grasping at his fur. Wukong liked the feel of the other's hands in his fur. He liked to feel his touch. To feel him so close. It burned him in the most delicious of ways. The golden-furred monkey licked his partner's nipple, grazing it with his teeth, Macaque’s huffed, cheeks painted in red.
“Faster.” Grunted Macaque as he pushed his hips forward, meeting each of Wukong's languid grinds with one of his own. Wukong moaned around the other's peck, feeling the dark-furred monkey’s clothed member push against his own crotch.
Wukong was tempted to tease the other, to go slower instead, rub him until he was raw with nothing but want. But he knew he was also nearing his end and, for their first time together, he wanted to be mercyfull. Prehaps he was also unsure of their boundaries, of how much teasing was allowed. Wukong rolled his hips faster, grinding hard against the other monkey. Macaque grasped his shoulders and pressed him closer, canting forward needily at each of the golden monkey thrusts.
Wukong left Macaque's peck and nosed his neck, he buried himself in the scent of rain and grass, humming the smell he missed so much in his life. They were intertwined together, rocking against one another with little else but passion. Their tails tentavily curled together, the two limbs inseparable. Wukong felt his tights burn, he knew he was near his limits, he was standing on the cliff of pleasure.
It was admittedly terrifying, he wasn't that used to the feeling. His rare sexual explorations had been short and not lasting. But prehaps because of the potion, the fear was dulled to an afterthought, as was his nervosity. He felt good, so very good. Macaque gasps were falling in his ears. Filling his entire being with fire. Wukong pushed and pushed, searching for that delicious friction. Straining his own pants with beads of pre-cum, until finally he tipped off the other side of the cliff.
Wukong came with a particular high-pitched chirp, he buried himself in Macaque's neck and latched as hard as he could. He pushed throught the haze of his orgasm and kept thrusting forward, knowing that Macaque’s didn't reach that edge yet. Macaque arched forward roughly, pushing even harder against Wukong, until finally he reached his edge. They both clutched each other, as if they could ground themselves in the haze assaulting them.
Wukong rolled off Macaque ans hugged him, feeling quite affectionate after their passionate exchange. Macaque was still panting, chest slowly heaving.
“We should clean up.” Grimaced Macaque as he looked down as his strained pants.
“We can do that tomorrow.” Whined Wukong. He didn't want to move, he was feeling so comfortable, feeling the other fur against his own, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat, his scent. It made him feel as if he was burning. It filled the ache inside of his chest.
“No way I'm staying like that.” Groaned Macaque, he dipped in one of his portals, probably to the nearest spring. Wukong huffed, disappointed to feel him go. He would have liked to hug him longer.
The great sage was still feeling hazy, the mind-numbing feeling of his orgasm didn't completely disappeared. He closed his eyes, fully satiated for now. He knew he was going to have second thoughts about this tomorrow, but for now he didn't care.
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