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somewhat-insane · 7 months

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Shadows of the Beach: Chapter Three

Here's the masterpost

Belated Meetings

Pairing: Ao Lie/Sun Wukong/Macaque

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Idiot gays being idiots and gay, Playful Banter, Teasing, Awkwardness, Jealousy, Mildly Unreliable Narrator

A/N: I'm super sorry this took so long, my laptop charger broke and then editing took a lot longer than I anticipated BUT, luckily for all of you, this is a big(ger) one. About 4,000 words over what I usually try to post. Plus, we get some cute moments between Wukong and Macaque AND we finally get to meet Ao Lie!! Oh! Plus, there's a reference to OSP's JTTW recaps!

In all honesty, Macaque probably should’ve seen this coming.

Or, heard, at the very least, as the large army donned in heavy celestial armor wasn’t exactly known for their silence when marching.

But, of course, a certain someone couldn’t stay quiet to save his life, not when he was as wound up as this, at least.

And for some reason, Macaque found himself tuning into Wukong’s rambled words, his glowing ears angled back towards the king, flicking as they picked up the distant sound of hurried footsteps but, uncharacteristically, the dark-furred monkey hadn’t thought anything of it, too wrapped up in his thoughts about what was being said to him.

Originally, Macaque had planned to listen and try to figure out the patterns the guards followed. He didn’t communicate this plan to Wukong but he feels that even if he had it wouldn’t have stopped the other from straying from it. And as far as Macaque was aware that would count as a new personal record for how quickly Wukong could stray from a plan.

Listening, apparently, was kind of difficult when your very unstealthy companion won’t stop rambling about how he’s going to “take you and Ao Lie for coffee” and then he gets sidetracked talking about how “wait, no, Ao Lie doesn’t like coffee” and how “it would be better to go for cheese tea,” even though “Ao Lie hasn’t tried cheese tea before- or milk tea. I wonder what he’ll think about it.”

“Quiet,” Macaque had hissed, smacking Wukong upside the head. This was, admittedly, a pointless endeavor but he did enjoy seeing the way Wukong pouted which Macaque definitely didn’t think was cute, and if anyone said otherwise Macaque would kill them.

He should’ve known from experience that Wukong wouldn’t listen. He never did. No matter how many times Macaque tried to warn him about something when they were younger, Wukong would always insist that Macaque was just being a “grumbletonian.” Now he just called him a buzzkill. Those shows Wukong liked to watch were surely the cause of Wukong’s declining vocabulary, but with the memes MK had been sending, Macaque wasn’t much better these days either.

Had you asked, Macaque would’ve told you–not without ample snark in his tone–that Wukong was just far too annoying and loud to tune out. But he knew his subconscious reasoning for listening to the other ran deeper than that. Perhaps the familiarity had been alluring enough that he found himself falling into old habits, or maybe Macaque was still in the mindset of trying to find Wukong’s weaknesses and was listening in the hopes that something would slip.

You could argue over the real reason forever but, either way, the baseline was that Macaque had been… distracted. Loathe as he did to admit it.

The monkey’s dark tail flicked at the air behind him as he tried to ignore how reminiscent this felt compared to past missions with Wukong. When they were younger. This was different though. He had to remind himself of that.

Back then he convinced Wukong to let him tag along specifically because he cared about his king and would do anything he could to ensure his safe return, but now he tagged along so MK wouldn’t be abandoned again (as much as Macaque insisted Wukong was still bad company, the kid cared for the fool and Macaque was weak when it came to what MK wanted.)

And if Macaque also got to death glare Ao Lie when they finally found him; that was just a bonus. And it definitely, definitely wasn’t because he was jealous. Because that would imply he had something to be jealous of, and that definitely wasn’t true because he didn’t even want to be able to run his fingers through Wukong’s soft, golden fur like old times, and- … Okay, Macaque wasn’t really helping his case here.

When Macaque couldn’t convince Wukong not to travel to the celestial realm alone, he insisted Wukong at least let him come along to help him sneak around. (Additionally, when Wukong insisted he was ‘the Great Sage Equal to Heaven’ and prattled on about not needing to sneak around, Macaque was there to roll his eyes and point out that the celestial realm was most likely a bit scattered after the Jade Emperor’s death and might not be too receptive of visitors right now, especially not the likes of Wukong. (Wukong was incredibly offended by this.) Macaque even brought up the fact that they might try to pin the emperor's death on Wukong himself and while Macaque wouldn’t necessarily blame them, it would make things a deal more complicated.)

Having a more advanced range of hearing and the ability to travel by shadow greatly increased the chance they would get out of this without Wukong getting trapped under a mountain again, no matter how funny that would be to Macaque.

Idly, he wondered how the court would go about punishing Wukong in the emperor’s absence. Not that the emperor was very key in punishing Wukong in the first place. (Wukong would beg to differ, the furnace may not have killed him but being stuck in there was absolute hell, and he would know.) He wondered if they could even punish him.

Of course, unlike some people, Macaque wasn’t foolish enough to entertain such a thought process and swiftly banished it to focus on more important things. Such as, their current predicament: being surrounded by celestial guards in the courtyard with sharp-looking spears pointed at them, which Wukong mused was oddly reminiscent of the ‘warm’ reception he got at the Dragon Palace of the East Sea.

If he wasn’t in such a jittery mood, he might’ve made a joke about looking so tasty everyone wanted to turn him into a kebob. Which surely would’ve rewarded him a punch in the face from Macaque.

Surprisingly, Macaque noticed, Wukong didn’t immediately lash out at them as he had expected. Macaque had prepared himself to have to be the voice of reason and keep Wukong from going on a murdering spree; something he was all too keen to do when he was younger. But, for once, Wukong was still.

Well, mostly. Out of the corner of his eye, Macaque could see the way Wukong’s tail twitched impatiently, annoyed at this interruption in their plan but not necessarily surprised. And Macaque could tell Wukong was weighing his options, kill all the guards and find Ao Lie sooner but risk being punished or be patient and not find Ao Lie sooner but don’t get punished.

It was, indeed, a toughy.

Macaque must admit he was impressed by how much progress Wukong had made in controlling his impulses.

Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Wukong that. Ever. That joke of a man soaked up praise like a sponge. And if he knew Macaque thought anything even remotely positive about him, Wukong’d never let him live it down.

The celestial armies had grown a lot less afraid of Wukong after his journey had tamed him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable of all that destruction that had once been whispered about behind closed doors and in banquets as kings bemoaned the status they had lost as a result of Wukong killing thousands of their men.

Not that they hadn’t deserved it, Macaque thought, but blood was always so hard to clean out of Wukong’s fur. Especially considering he was ticklish and would squirm out of Macaque’s hold.

It was like trying to wash a cat.

Speaking of Wukong, said monkey took a deep breath in through his nose, closing his eyes to allow himself a moment of composure–something his master had tought him, no doubt–before he opened his eyes and plastered a strained grin onto his face that probably only added to the intimidation factor by making Wukong look unhinged. Though, that was probably his intent the entire time, “Fellas! Great to see you!”

His words earned nothing more than glares from behind helmets.

“Aw, why the cold shoulder? I thought we were all good!” Wukong pouts theatrically, making Macaque sigh and facepalm, grumbling a string of curses to himself. How did he constantly find himself in these situations? With Wukong no less. And they called him the theater kid, Macaque lamented, running his fingers through his dark fur as he took it upon himself to study the guards around them for weakness. One of the two monkeys had to pretend not to be an idiot, after all.

Despite their attempts to hide it and seem composed, Macaque noticed some of the guards sharing nervous glances.

Wukong, the self-absorbed jerk he was, noticed this and couldn’t help but puff his chest out pridefully at the effect he had on the guards, happy his reputation still rang strong within certain groups. His fur ruffled like the feathers of a proud mother hen, and Macaque found himself rolling his eyes almost affectionately at the familiar sight.

One of the guards went to speak up after a moment, clearing their throat and straightening their posture, adjusting the spear in their hands and keeping it pointed noticeably at Macaque instead of Wukong.

The idea that they would threaten Macaque to keep Wukong in line made the golden-furred monkey’s stomach twist uncomfortably as he grit his teeth, his tail lashing behind him. Despite whatever bad blood still rested within the unspoken words hanging between them, Wukong still didn’t like dragging people into his messes, and that included Macaque.

Admittedly, the tactic was smart, but he couldn’t help but wonder how they knew it would bother him so much. Though, of course, they were probably still working on outdated information from when Wukong and Macaque had been an inseparable duo. He had to swallow down his emotions to keep from spiraling, attempting to focus on the guard’s gruff voice, “What business do you have here, demons?”

With a still-furrowed brow, Wukong forced his scowl down into another grin that looked more like a grimace as he attempted a low whistle through his clenched teeth, “Demons, ey? ‘S been a while since anyone called me a demon. My name was always seen to be far more terrifying.”

Macaque didn’t say anything, just leveling Wukong with an unimpressed glare, something Wukong pouted in response to, though there was something playful about it as his tail swayed, his faux grin falling as he switched tactics, rolling his shoulders back and humming contentedly in response to the satisfying pop he was rewarded with, the noise making Macaque’s ear twitch and, at some point alone the line, his gaze had drifted away from the guards and to Wukong, studying his form that, to the untrained eye would seem casual and confident, but Macaque saw the small telltale signs that said otherwise.

Offering an exaggerated sigh, Wukong leaned against Macaque, much to the shadow monkey’s chagrin, “Oh, how cruelly the world doth treat us, my friend.”

Rolling his eyes, mildly amused with Wukong’s theatrics, Macaque let his companion continue, seeing it as the idle distraction it was. This, at least, Macaque remembered, and he was slightly amused it hadn’t changed. Essentially, Wukong was making a plan. And while he wasn’t the best at doing so, Macaque had to admit he was curious enough to entertain him in this. Just this once, he told himself, despite remembering thinking the same thing many years ago

Shifting his gaze to the nearest guard, Wukong spoke once again, “If you lot must know, we’re here to see Ne Zha.”

The guard that had had the guts to speak responded with a deep frown, the corners of his mouth creasing and Wukong could just barely see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he grit his teeth. Seems like this one was easily irritated, Wukong observed, trying to hide the mischievous grin that threatened to form on his face as the guard continued, “And what business-”

Wukong groaned, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his grin even as his tail swayed with amusement, something Macaque easily picked up on and, while he admired the dedication to the craft, he was left to wonder when Wukong grew patient enough to pull such tricks instead of just punching through all of his problems. Sure, Wukong had been confident before, but he was confident in the way that he would thoughtlessly challenge the Buddha instead of thinking things through. He always ended up succumbing to stage fright whenever he was supposed to act on something other than his impulses.

“Look, I don’t have time for this so let’s cut to the chase,” Wukong huffed, crossing his arms after he had finally schooled his expression into a frown, “if you let me, Sun Wukong, the Great Sage,” Macaque rolled his eyes at the name drop; as if the guards weren’t already well aware of who they were dealing with and what he could do, Macaque thought sarcastically, “and my friend, the six-eared Macaque,” this part gave Macaque pause as he wasn’t expecting to be included in Wukong’s attempts to intimidate them and he definitley wasn’t expecting to be referred to as a friend.

“go about our business, we won’t kill you…” he paused, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes in thought, “probably.”

Macaque huffed out a dry laugh, finally playing along with Wukong by letting a sharp-toothed grin spread over his face.

“Speak for yourself,” he purred maliciously as he made eye contact with one of the guards, letting his eyes flash violet for a moment as he relished in the way they tensed and fumbled with their weapon.

He felt Wukong’s tail brush against his leg as the appendage swayed more adamantly, not doing much to hide Wukong’s joy at the moment. Whether it was because Macaque was joining in or just because of the way the guard acted, Macaque didn’t know. Nor did he want to.

Normally, Macaque would’ve shot Wukong a glare for touching him, but instead, he just gave an almost fond sigh as he shook his head.

Okay, maybe he understood why Wukong liked doing this. They were all just so easy to scare, it was honestly hilarious. Macaque’s thoughts were interrupted as another voice cut into the tense silence.

“We know who you are,” one brave-sounding guard said, looking ready to thrust his spear into Wukong’s chest.

Wukong hummed in amusement. Brave, but dumb, he noted, as that guard was one of the only ones pointing their spear at Wukong instead of Macaque. Obviously, they hadn’t done their research. Not that they would’ve needed to. It’d been a long time since he’d genuinely attacked the celestial realm… unless you counted stealing the map which he still insisted was necessary and no one died which was… impressive to say the least considering it was something Wukong was involved in. Welp, Wukong thought, might as well use this guard to teach the others a lesson.

In one swift movement, Wukong moved to be closer to the guard and grabbed the spear, yanking it so the guard stumbled forward. Wukong let the glamours fall from his eyes, the ominous red glow bouncing off of the helmet and the wide eyes of the being in front of him.

“And what exactly do you think this little toy is going to do to me?” Wukong spoke, his voice menacingly deep in a way that would shake someone right down to their core. Just the sound of it even had Macaque’s fur standing on end, though, possibly not from fear. Wukong grabbed the guard’s head to keep them still as he tore the spear from their grip, spinning it in his hold so the business end would be pointed directly at them. But before Wukong could plunge it into their skull, the sound of a familiar voice ringing out across the courtyard made him freeze.

“Halt!” it had called out.

The golden-furred monkey sucked in a sharp, almost pained-sounding breath through his teeth. And while Macaque and Wukong hadn’t been friends for centuries and had long since lost the ability to tell just with a look what the other was thinking, it wasn’t hard to guess what that reaction meant.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me…” Wukong grumbled as he turned on his heel to regard the figure stomping towards them with a dog at his heels, his aggressive nature startling some of the guards who immediately parted to allow the imposing figure and his companion to step into the circle they had ‘trapped’ the two spiritual primates in.

“Erlang!” Wukong chimed through grit teeth, “How’ve you been old friend?”

“I assure you we are nothing of the sort, simian,” Erlang huffed haughtily, turning his nose up at Wukong in disgust, “for your benefit, I hope you have a valid reason for threatening my guards.”

“Mmm, yeah, see, you’re just gonna love this. Super funny story really I-” Wukong was about to respond sarcastically but paused, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow as he took in Erlang’s disheveled appearance, his hair unkempt and bags under his eyes, even keeping up his regal posture appeared to be exhausting to him.

Despite the incredibly small pang of sympathy he felt toward the guy, Wukong couldn’t help but snort in amusement, whatever he was planning to say immediately leaving his brain, “did your gold fish get away or something?”

An amused grin played on Macaque’s lips in response to Wukong’s reference to “Guan-I-woke-up-like-this-yin”.

Erlang lacked the grace Guanyin had even in those moments though.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Erlang sighed with clear annoyance at the situation unfolding before him. An understandable reaction to being in Wukong’s presence, Macaque mused, his grin still present.

“For the love of- I do not have time for your pathetic attempts at humor, monkey,” Erlang growled. And Wukong couldn’t help but wonder if Erlang found himself humorous, because if that was the case, well, Wukong had some news to give him.

“Clearly,” Wukong responded, gesturing to Erlang’s… everything.

With an incredibly irritated sigh, Erlang crossed his arms.

“Not that it concerns you,” Erlang grits out, eye twitching in irritation, “but not only have I been trying to clean up Azure’s mess–which I can only assume you had ample part in–but I also have to take over some of my uncle’s previous duties for the foreseeable future. Which, even with his power locked away, are not things that should be taken lightly.”

“Right, right, for sure,” Wukong hummed, nodding along but making it very clear he wasn’t actually listening, “so, obviously you have better things to do than deal with two michevious little monkeys, and we should just waltz on through and-”

Wukong was cut off as the guards all step closer to the pair, their spears glinting in the light and making Macaque subconsciously step closer to Wukong, bumping their shoulders together, making both of them tense at the contact.

Something about this was far too reminiscent and the two immediately stepped away.

Glancing at Macaque, Wukong’s tail twitched as if wanting to curl around him in some form. When they were younger, he always had to be touching Macaque in some way, shape, or form, be it holding his hand and tugging him along or wrapping his tail around his ankle, wrist or tail. It was just instinct though and Wukong had to remind himself of that. He had to remind himself he didn’t want to be touching Macaque and even if he did, he couldn’t. The wall between them had very briefly been breached–on accident, mind you–but it was already being very quickly rebuilt. Stronger, this time.

“I’m afraid I can not let you do that,” Erlang finally responded, arms folded behind his back.

Wukong huffed, his grin growing more strained by the second as he kept his eyes on the spears closest to Macaque. While Macaque was ageless, he could still be harmed and killed. And for some odd reason, Wukong refused to let that happen again. He also refused to think about it too much.

“Yeah?” Wukong laughed humorlessly, unglamoured eyes glaring at the guards, “and why’s that?”

“To let two of the most notorious trouble-makers roam the celestial realm freely during the current circumstances would be incredibly stupid.”

“Good thing you’re incredibly stupid then,” Wukong grumbled before sighing, “look, man…”

Erlang’s eye twitched at being addressed so informally by the monkey but he let it slide, if only so he could try and get the two out of the celestial realm as soon as possible.

“We just want to talk to Ne Zha,” Wukong continued, going for civil and unassuming. Succeeding about as well as you’d expect someone with his reputation could.

Erlang’s eyes narrow, “the celestial realm has fallen prey to your tricks far too many times, monkey, I plan to bring an end to that.”

“Pfft- don’t flatter yourself.”

Unsurprisingly, this earns Wukong a glare from Erlang. He expected a glare from Macaque as well but… Macaque had his hand over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his torso as he basically vibrated as he tried to contain his laughter. Well, at least he was enjoying himself, Wukong thought, trying not to show the pride that bubbled up inside of him at being able to make the other laugh though, for a moment he did consider the possibility that Macaque was, per usual, laughing at him but that was something that could wait until later.

“I would not suggest letting your hubris get the best of you. Currently,” Erlang hums, summoning a spear and expertly twirling it in his hold, “you are on… ideal terms with the celestial realm after your companionship with the great monk. Your friend… less so after that little stunt he pulled with the Lady Bone Demon.” This made Macaque’s fur bristle and he had half the mind to correct the celestial but he still held his tongue, knowing, from having read the Journey to the West, that Erlang was a force to be reckoned with. Wukong, despite his teasing nature, clearly knew this too as he stayed silent and allowed Erlang to finish his point, a grace Wukong was not willing to grant to many. “Even so, I assure you no harm will come to either of you if you return to the mortal realm. You are not the only immortals who are being kept out for the foreseeable future.”

“Ah, right,” Wukong hums, “gotta keep that Jade Emporer power safe, hmm? Can’t have someone stealing it. Especially not a little, harmless, monkey. I mean, that’s why you have to keep us out, right? Because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against us.”

Erlang narrowed his eyes, “Keeping you out is a precaution, we are more than capable of detaining you again if it comes to it. It’s a very thin sense of respect that keeps us from doing so anyway.”

Wukong hummed, though it was clear in the way his brow creased that the idea of being trapped again struck a cord within him. His fingers twitched at his side and he ached for the weight of his staff in his hands. He wasn’t powerless by any means of the word, but it always felt nice to have a weapon he was confident in wielding. His fists were always a good substitute though.

“We would trap you under a mountain again long before we let something happen,” Erlang reiterated, mildly aware of the effect his words had on Wukong. Defiance and pride sparked through his eyes as he barely held back from snarking about how Wukong had lost his edge after all these years.

“Hmm, well, in that case…” Wukong’s brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, a rare thoughtful look pulling at his expression as if he was honestly trying to puzzle out a solution to this conundrum or just trying to calm himself down. Still, the look was fleeting, and within a few seconds, his eyes had opened with a challenging glint.

At that moment Macaque was sure he saw a slight shift, almost as if Wukong’s frame flickered for a moment.

As a companion to that sight, he heard the tell-tale chime of Wukong using his magic.

Golden smoke swirled around Wukong’s feet to add to the odd spectacle but the monkey did his best to swat the clouds away with his tail, trying to hide… something.

While suspicious and odd, it must have worked well enough considering Macaque couldn’t figure out for the life of him what Wukong had done before his attention was drawn away once Wukong spoke again, his ears pitching forward instinctively after being pulled so suddenly from his thoughts.

“Gotta catch me first!” And before either Macaque or Erlang could say anything to stop him, (as if anything they said would be able to stop him anyway) Wukong jumped up into the air and easily landed on his Nimbus, darting off in the opposite direction he and Macaque were originally headed. Which was just really annoying on top of impractical.

“What the- Get him!” Erlang yells, he and the rest of the guards quickly moving to chase after the elusive monkey, leaving Macaque alone in the courtyard.

Abandoned again, Macaque mused with a sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance bubbling up in his chest at the familiar situation.

But that feeling was short-lived as none other than Wukong suddenly popped up beside him in a puff of golden smoke and grabbed Macaque’s hand, tugging him in the direction they had originally been headed, his face screwed into an expression of intense concentration as he used his knowledge of the celestial realm to map out exactly where they were and where it would be most tactical to head toward next.

“Wha- Wukong??”

“Clone,” Wukong responded, gesturing back toward the way his clone went and offering very little more in terms of explanation, leaving Macaque to feel mildly annoyed that Wukong didn’t even try to communicate that–the man has telepathy, it couldn’t have been that hard to just mentally tell Macaque “hey, I’m about to make a clone to lead them away but don’t worry, I’m not actually ditching you,” but like, whatever–as he dragged Macaque through a large ornate doorway and into a long and equally impressive hallway, briefly glancing at Macaque to offer a task, “tell me if you hear them coming back our way.”

Macaque opened his mouth to argue, his brows furrowing as he glared intently at the back of Wukong’s head when the golden-furred monkey turned his attention forward, but essentially he decided against saying anything. Instead, he let his ears fan out, closing his eyes and surprisingly trusting Wukong to guide him during his moment of slight vulnerability.

He heard the group's loud footsteps moving away and Wukong's clone's laughter, which abruptly ceased, accompanied by the sound of something poofing. There was a brief pause before Erlang groaned, his annoyance at having been bested by Wukong again incredibly clear, but he didn’t guide the army back towards where they had been before, knowing well enough that the real Wukong could be miles away by then.

Reluctantly, he conceded and told a few of his best soldiers to keep their eye out for the mischievous duo. Macaque allowed himself to bask in a brief moment of satisfaction at that, ignoring the feelings that threatened to rise to the surface if he thought too much about the two of them being a duo. He blinked open his eyes and focused back on the Wukong in front of him, the real Wukong. Macaque pursed his lips in brief thought before huffing out a soft chuckle.

Well played, Wukong, he thought, well played.

Finally, after a while of running, Wukong slowed down and the two continued to walk in silence for a while before Macaque cleared his throat to catch Wukong’s attention. It worked and Wukong looked back at him with an unspoken question clear in his eyes, only for Macaque to respond by pointing at their still-connected hands.

The golden monkey, much to Macaque’s annoyance, stopped walking after looking down at their hands, his brow furrowing in confusion as he tried to puzzle out what was wrong with the situation.

They were holding hands, so what? They used to hold hands all the time when they were frie- oh. Oh. Right. Right… not friends anymore. Just… barely allies. Wukong pointedly ignores the feelings swirling in his chest at that reminder.

His face flushed slightly in embarrassment at his forgetfulness as he pulled his hand away, wondering why Macaque hadn’t pulled away earlier and instead chose to point it out to Wukong. Distastefully, Wukong wondered if Macaque was afraid enough of him to believe he would lash out at the action. However, that couldn’t be the case because Macaque regularly picked fights with Wukong and pushed him to his limits… still, the question lodged itself into Wukong’s mind and he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting about it anytime soon. He still couldn’t get that image of Macaque cowering away from his fist during the Samadhi fire incident of his head. Among… other images.

Wukong cupped his hand in the other, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of Macaque’s touch on his palm, and turned away from Macaque, fur noticeably poofed up as he grumbled something that almost sounded like an apology as he sped down the hallway to put distance between them.

Macaque couldn’t help but snort, rolling his eyes as he slipped into the shadows to trail after Wukong more easily. Once Wukong had finally slowed back down to a more natural walking pace, Macaque emerged, making his presence known to the distracted monkey by brushing his tail against Wukong’s, making him jump and whip his head around, his momentary surprise melting away as his gaze hardened into a glare.

“Jerk,” Wukong mumbled, crossing his arms and looking away with a pout.

“Coward,” Macaque responded playfully, watching in satisfaction as Wukong’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he brought his arms back down to his sides, still looking annoyed and, to be honest, Macaque couldn’t tell if it was because of him or because being in the celestial realm generally set Wukong on edge, as much as the golden monkey liked to pretend that it didn’t.

Another moment of silence passed, this one almost comfortable as they walked side by side, a noticeable distance between them that hadn’t been there when they were younger.

Macaque was annoying, but Wukong had to admit he enjoyed the more casual banter they shared now that they were on speaking terms again. It was far better than having to listen to words chock-full of hurtful intent. No one knew how to get under Wukong’s skin better than Macaque did. And vice versa he liked to believe.

“So…” Macaque starts, once again being the one to break the silence, “what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Wukong asks, prompting Macaque to raise a brow at him, “oh- right! The plan! Uh…”

Wukong stopped walking, pursing his lips in thought.

“Oh for-” Macaque grumbled, running a hand over his face, “you don’t even have a plan!?”

“I didn’t have time to make a plan!” Wukong insists, gesturing wildly in the air as if that would make Macaque look past his ignorance.

Macaque rolled his eyes with a snort, “Yeah, seems like a common thing with you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Wukong huffed, gritting his teeth and crossing his arms. Okay, so maybe they weren’t fully past hurtful words.

“What do you think it’s supposed to mean?” Macaque asked rhetorically, glaring at Wukong as he mimicked him and crossed his arms as well.

Frowning, Wukong started walking again, eyes glued ahead as he felt anger boiling to life in his chest, “For the record, I did have a plan for the Samadhi fire.”

“Sure you did,” Macaque hummed with a shrug, following behind Wukong, the distance between them increasing and Wukong feared that was true in more ways than one. Still, despite knowing it would only deepen the ravine between them, Wukong couldn’t keep himself from adding: “And it would’ve worked if you hadn’t intervened!”

“Really?” Macaque chuckled darkly, stepping in front of Wukong and placing a hand on his chest to get him to stop as well, the touch making Wukong tense, looking at Macaque with a furrowed brow as a growl threatened to start up in his throat, “Even if you had gotten the ring out of the dragon girl and into you, you don’t have the same ‘dragon heritage’ that kept her alive. The Samadhi Fire is the only fire that can hurt you. For all we know, you could very well have died. And you would’ve taken reality as we know it down with you.~”

Wukong stared at Macaque for a moment with a shocked expression, his brows raised as he looked into Macaque’s eyes which glinted in cruel amusement, something that stoked the growing flame of Wukong’s conflicted rage, a mixture of shock that Macaque knew that and confusion at why he’d bring it up mixing in the emotional stew.

Finally, Wukong’s warring emotions settled into bland irritation, though there was no doubt something more explosive brewing under the surface as his brow furrowed and he looked away, taking in a shuddering breath before grabbing Macaque’s wrist and looking back towards him with a glare,

“I’m sure you would’ve loved it if that were the case,” Wukong grit out with a huff, pulling Macaque’s hand off him and shouldering past him aggressively. Macaque stayed standing there for a moment, a conflicted expression on his face as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, considering Wukong’s words. Not because they held any merit, mind you, but because he couldn’t figure out if Wukong meant the part about him dying or the part about reality being destroyed. Not that it particularly mattered which one since Macaque didn’t care for either. But it’s not like he could just admit that now, could he?

With a confused frown, Macaque decided it was not worth it to care and turned to continue following Wukong, leaving the tense silence to fester between them.

Admittedly, Wukong did seem to have some sort of odd method to his madness. One that only he could follow, no doubt, but it was there.

Having been in the celestial realm much longer than Macaque, Wukong had some sense of where things were and where Ne Zha would most likely be, so he had taken the lead. Up until this far, walking through a long outdoor hallway with ornate vine-covered pillars, they’d just explored various gardens and studies.

“Considering that kid can’t take a break for the life of him,” Wukong had said, momentarily forgetting about the words that still hung between them in favor of focusing on something he might actually have the power to fix, for once, “he’s probably tasked himself with guarding the Jade Emperor’s power.”

“If you knew that then didn’t we just go to the Jade Emperor’s power in the first place?” Macaque asked, much less willing to pretend that things were fine between them. Not right now, at least. It was easier to pretend when their common denominator, MK, was there. Or maybe in the rare moments where they sat on opposite ends of the couch, monkeys curled up on their laps and draped over their shoulders as they watched trash TV in mildly comfortable silence. But the tenseness between them right now was like a thick smog in the air, the type that stings your eyes and makes your throat close up. Nearly impossible to ignore.

Unless, of course, there was some sort of distraction, he mused. But that would never-

“Uncle?”

Macaque’s ears twitched at the familiar voice and he froze, looking up, raising a brow, before blurting out the first name that came to mind, “Red?”

They both started speaking at the same time, “What are you-”

They also stopped speaking at the same time as they blinked at each other before both chuckling. Red Son, someone Macaque was only semi-recently formerly acquainted with despite having known his parents for centuries, politely raised a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckled, both of them momentarily forgetting about the mildly confused witness standing awkwardly on the sidelines.

Considering Red Son was very young when Wukong trapped his father under that mountain, he had never really seen Wukong as anyone other than the man who tore the Demon Bull Family from its foundations and left it as shaky scaffolding that threatened to blow over in the wind, only kept up by Red Son’s and his mother’s combined efforts, something that seldom seemed enough as in the beginning they were just two grieving demons; a child, young and stripped of his power, forced to relearn the core of his magic; and a mother, hollow without her husband and forced to raise her son alone. It wasn’t long before Red Son did his best to remedy the lack of manpower though, the first bull clones hadn’t been perfect but they were a good proof of concept. Nevertheless, point is, Red Son (despite vaguely remembering a time when he had sat upon strong shoulders–not as broad as his father’s–with his hands pulling curiously at golden fur, the owner of which chuckled, unbothered by the child’s actions,) had long since stopped seing Wukong in any kind of fond light. Macaque on the other hand, despite being physically absent, was still often brought up by Iron Fan in conversation, her tone fond and wistful as she would lament about how often Macaque had to get the other brotherhood members out of trouble. Her stories notably lacking Wukong. As a result of these stories though, Red Son felt closer to Macaque when he was being raised than he had ever felt to Wukong, and after meeting Macaque in person, and being introduced formerly to him by MK, Red Son was all too eager to reinstate the title he had once used for Wukong. And Macaque definitely didn’t tear up when Red Son called him Uncle.

Of course, predictably, it wasn’t long before Wukong got antsy and interjected himself into the conversation Red Son and Macaque had started having.

“Red boy!” Wukong chimed, draping his arm over a now very disgruntled Red Son’s shoulders.

“Wukong…” Red greeted distastefully.

“You’re not gonna rat us out are you?” Wukong asked, almost sounding genuinely anxious.

“If you don’t stop touching me I might,” the young demon scowled, prompting Wukong to chuckle nervously and back off with his palms held out in a placating gesture, which Red Son only huffed smoke out of his nostrils at.

“Noted,” Wukong hums, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head, “so, what are you doing in the celestial realm? I thought your family was taking a break from conquering the world. I don’t think MK would be too happy to have to start fighting you again.”

Red Son scoffs, his cheeks flushing slightly at that last part as he looked away, the reaction confusing Wukong.

“Like I would tell you anything,” the bull demon hissed.

Wukong is about to argue back but Macaque shoves a hand over his mouth and speaks up, not wanting Wukong to start something possibly explosive in the middle of the celestial realm, “What’cha doin’ here, Red?”

“Oh, that’s easy, I came to speak with Ne Zha.”

Macaque grins triumphantly, glancing towards Wukong and-

“DID YOU JUST LICK ME!?” He hissed, jerking his hand away from Wukong’s mouth and wiping the slobber off on Wukong’s sleeve.

“You’ll live,” Wukong huffed, wiping the spit off his chin as a cocky grin pulls at his lips, ever excited to cause Macaque discomfort, “I just don’t see why Red Boy can’t answer me but can answer you.”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because you’re annoying,” Macaque grumbled, childishly sticking his tongue out at Wukong, pulling a dramatic, affronted gasp from Wukong.

“Well, I-” Wukong started, placing a hand on his chest as he pretended to be thoroughly scandalized by the display, only for his theatrics to be rudely interrupted.

“And an idiot,” the young bull demon added.

“Hey-” Wukong pouted, genuinely upset his bit was ruined.

“Oh, and-” Macaque chimed, only to be interrupted as Wukong punched him in the shouler, pulling a chuckle from him which was surely not the reaction Wukong was going for but he can’t find it in himself to be upset at the outcome.

It was honestly kind of funny. Sometimes they fought like children, and sometimes they fought like a married couple, Red Son mused with a slight smirk, but, unless he wanted to be hunted for sport, he could never say that thought out loud.

“So, what’s your business with Ne Zha, kid?” Macaque finally asked, tail swaying slightly from the lingering amusement of getting to mess with Wukong.

“Oh! I, uh… I came to ask for advice on what to get the noodle-” The demon’s eyes darted over to Wukong before narrowing as he slowly continued, carefully deciding his words, “my… partner as a, um, courting gift.”

Macaque nodded, unsurprised at this information, having been one of the first people Red came to when he first started attempting to court the monkey king’s successor. Based on the nervous look the demon had given Wukong, Macaque would bet that Wukong didn’t know yet. Which also wasn’t surprising, because Wukong was incredibly dense. Guess that’s what happens when your brain is made of stone.

Wukong snorted, clearly amused, “I wouldn’t go to Ne Zha for that kind of thing.”

“And why is that?”

Both Red Son and Wukong jolted slightly at the sound of the familiar voice, though more out of surprise than anything else. Macaque, having heard Ne Zha approaching but not caring enough to let Wukong know, merely allowed his gaze to lazily travel over to the lotus prince, giving a casual nod in greeting that was met with a slight shrug. Despite mostly hating each other, they had fun gossiping about Wukong together that one time and they both cared about MK so they resolved to, at the very least, not be hostile.

Macaque was only mildly surprised when, instead of backtracking as any sensible person would do, Wukong turned to Ne Zha with a brow raised as he huffed out an amused laugh and used Macaque’s shoulder as an armrest, much to Macaque’s dismay.

“Ey! Ne Zha! Old buddy! We were just talking about you!” Wukong chuckled to himself, clearly the only one who was entertained by this situation. With a hum, Wukong addressed Ne Zha’s question, “do you want the whole list or do you want me to just say some stuff off the top of my head?”

With a tired sigh that was usually reserved for exhausted parents, Ne Zha rubbed at his temples. Wukong, for whatever reason, took this as a sign to continue spouting his bullshit.

“First off, you’re like, what, twelve? Second, I doubt you know the first thing about romance, I mean, you’d probably be married to your job if you could be.”

Ne Zha’s eye twitched and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He’s barely even been in Wukong’s presence for fifteen minutes and he already wants to leave. But, alas, he did have a reason for appearing when he did.

However… it wouldn’t hurt to set the record straight first, “just because I am not interested in romantic affairs doesn’t mean I am unaware of the concept. Nor does it mean I would be unwilling to advise the Demon Dull prince and- are you even listening, Wukong?”

“Mmm,” Wukong hummed, picking at the dirt under his claws, “not at all, why?”

Sighing, Ne Zha took a moment to breathe, opening his mouth to scold Wukong but paused as he was struck with an idea and a rare mischievous grin pulled at his expression, the look setting everyone on edge as they wondered what he might be thinking.

“Oh, no reason…” He turned his back on Wukong, which was a risky move considering what he was about to say, “I just thought you might be interested in learning where Ao Lie is…”

Wukong immediately went stock still, his tail, which had previously been casually swaying, stiffened to the point of almost looking petrified. Macaque and Red Son watched as Wukong’s face fell, only for it to morph into something else moments later as his eyes went red and he bared his teeth. His fur bristled and neither Macaque nor Red Son could even think to stop him before he went to pounce.

Unsurprisingly, Ne Zha expected the reaction and leaped out of the way, watching as Wukong stumbled, struggling to reinstate his balance after his target moved, leaving him to skid slightly before crouching down again, no doubt getting prepared to try again.

“Tell me where he is,” Wukong spoke, the previous casualness and teasing aura that he had before completely gone, replaced by this desperate kind of aggression that brought back unwanted memories for Macaque and startled Red Son. Macaque didn’t miss the way Red Son stepped closer to him.

It made sense, Red Son had been a baby back when Wukong was on the journey, he’s never had to see this side of him before.

It had always been clear that Red Son disliked the monkey king, but the fear he had was only because of hearing stories and knowing vaguely what he was capable of. Now that he got to see Wukong’s impulsive rage first hand… he just considered himself glad he survived the punch in the ribs he got when Wukong was possessed.

“He was going to, you idiot,” Macaque finally huffed, making Wukong pause in his attack for a second.

Ne Zha nodded, still tense as though expecting Wukong to try and pounce at him again, “I have no reason to keep his whereabouts from you.”

“You’ve kept them from me this long,” Wukong growled, referring to the time Ao Lie had spent trapped in the scroll, and the group watched as guilt flashed over Ne Zha’s expression.

“I was not aware of what had happened to your companion,” he spoke honestly, and Wukong’s fur flattened slightly, the glamour on his eyes returning, “not until I had to release everyone trapped within the scroll. It was as much a surprise to me as it was for you.”

Wukong glared at the ground for a moment, clearly wanting to take out his anger on someone but wanting to see Ao Lie more. So, he sighed and looked back up at Ne Zha, “take me to him.”

No one spoke for the rest of that walk. Red Son had gone back to the mortal realm, accepting that this wasn’t the best time to look for advice and deciding to either come back another time or ask his mother, though that ran the risk of his father finding out and Red Son was just… really not ready to have that conversation.

That left Wukong and Macaque alone to follow their temporary guide, Ne Zha.

In the back of his mind, Wukong was surprised that Macaque had stuck with him this long. Maybe it was because he was distracted by other things but, no matter how much he thought about it he just couldn’t figure out why he was still there.

More upsettingly, Wukong couldn’t figure out why he was glad Macaque was there.

He wasn’t given much time to mull over his thoughts before the three of them came to a stop in a long hallway with countless doors on each wall. “Guest rooms,” Ne Zha had explained, gesturing to one of the doors. He didn’t need to say anything for Wukong to understand what was being implied, and suddenly Wukong’s heart jumped into his throat and he was feeling uncharacteristically nervous. What was he supposed to say? Did Ao Lie even want to see him?

Wukong wasn’t someone who was used to acknowledging his feelings at the best of times, but especially not in a scenario like this. Ne Zha had hung back, watching as Wukong approached the door, Macaque following close behind and Wukong briefly wondered if he could sense how much Wukong needed him here. As embarrassing of a thought as that was, Wukong had to admit he was glad someone was by his side, even if that person hated his guts. This feeling was only amplified as Wukong once again felt something brush against his tail. He looked back to see the tip of a black-furred appendage briefly hooking around his tail before pulling back, not willing to offer any more than that. Wukong looked at Macaque with wide eyes, only to find Macaque unsurprisingly averting his gaze and glaring at the door, most likely pointedly ignoring the warmth in his cheeks. Wukong gave a soft smile, recognizing the attempt at reassurance and if he had more time to think it over he would probably bring himself into a spiral over it but, that could wait, for now… Wukong took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock at the door, not letting the breath out even as there was a loud crash on the other side of the door as if someone had tripped and then panicked shuffling.

He still didn’t breathe when the door was flung open to reveal a slightly disheveled-looking being. One that was very, very familiar to him.

“Ne Zha! Did you find hi-” Their voice cut off as their eyes met Wukong’s and for a moment, everything was frozen. Or, Macaque would’ve thought that was the case if he hadn’t been able to hear Wukong’s heart picking up and the way his breath hitched after he finally let out the breath he was holding.

Macaque took the moment of stillness to examine Ao Lie’s appearance, though he didn’t necessarily need to, having recognized him from years ago when he had been tailing the group to find out how they were keeping Wukong tied down. He looked the same for the most part, though his hair was slightly tousled most likely from the fall he had taken when scrambling to the door.

The shadow monkey watched as Ao Lie’s lips parted to say something but he cut himself off when Wukong took a few shaky steps forward as if afraid any sudden movements would shatter this moment. Or, perhaps Wukong was afraid Ao Lie would try and kill him just like everyone else from his past has thus far.

Of course, Ao Lie didn’t attack Wukong and instead offered a kind, patient smile. The sight of which had a dopey grin growing on Wukong’s face before he pounced on Ao Lie and knocked both of them to the ground, knocking the breath out of the dragon. Wasting no more time Wukong almost instinctively nuzzled against Ao Lie’s cheek as he threaded his fingers through Ao Lie’s long hair, soothing a part of himself he hadn’t previously been aware needed soothing.

Standing back, Macaque watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, an ugly feeling rearing its head in his chest as he watched Wukong clumsily attempt to groom Ao Lie’s hair. Macaque didn’t even know if Wukong was aware he was doing it.

Recovering from the air being punched out of his lungs, laughter bubbled up in Ao Lie’s throat, and the melodic sound had Wukong’s tail swaying against the ground as he answers with a pleased chirp, not even noticing the tears that began to run down his cheeks.

They laugh together for a moment, just holding each other close and reassuring themselves that this moment was real before they calm down and spend a moment of silence just basking in the others presence before Ao Lie sighs, shattering the silence and prompting Wukong to raise his head from where he had buried it against Ao Lie’s shoulder. Ao Lie reached up to cup Wukong’s cheeks and Wukong almost instantly relaxed into the touch, purring contentedly as Ao Lie’s thumbs caress his cheeks, brushing away any stray tears as Ao Lie takes the moment to study Wukong’s face.

“You look different,” Ao Lie said softly, his voice almost a whisper as he ran his thumb over the edge of Wukong’s prominent eye bags. Wukong’s eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to just bask in the touch before opening his eyes and meeting Ao Lie’s affectionate gaze.

A soft chuckle bubbles up from Wukong’s chest as he responds, “you don’t.”

“Heh… being trapped in time for…” Ao Lie grimaces, realizing he doesn’t actually know how long he had been trapped, “uh… however long, will do that to you.”

Wukong frowns at the reminder, placing his hand over Ao Lie’s and apologetically nuzzling into his palm.

“If I had known,” Wukong mumbles against Ao Lie’s skin, “I would’ve stopped at nothing to get you back.”

Smiling sadly, Ao Lie pressed their foreheads together, “I know.”

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