#I belive in Nezha big brother supramacy

[its-kall-the-clown]

Not Who You Expect

Rating: G

Words: 3502 

Commissioned by: @yellowbirdy

Summary:

MK wants to prevent the events that almost led to the defeat of the world and the victory of the white-bone spirit. So he does what he does best. He trains and believes in himself that it's going to be enough this time. 

What he didn’t expect is Nezha to notice him running himself ragged when no one else did. Maybe this meditation thing isn’t so bad

additional notes: thank you so much for commissioning me! I had such fun with this it defiantly got away with me

When people said the title ‘Monkey king’ they probably pictured golden locks, a mischievous grin, and an absolute powerhouse that could level mountains with a single swing. They probably imagined suave, charm, maybe a cheeky mouth but overall a very capable person. 

They probably didn't expect a dull dunce of a boy with a self-confidence deficiency and sometimes snorted when he laughed, as the Monkey King's successor.

Okay so Maybe MK was being dramatic when he thought about himself compared to Monkey king…but deep down he knew it to be true. 

He’s not what you would expect as the Monkey king's successor

Today was Saturday, so, therefore, training day. (not that every day was training day to MK) making this two weeks after the defeat of the White Bone Spirit. MK was constantly on edge and looking over his shoulder expecting to hear a little girl laughing mockingly or a cold shiver to run up his spine.

Yet every time he looked she was never truly there despite the ghostly presence that seemed to haunt him long after she was gone. 

After the dust had settled and wounds were tended to, nerves were still frazzled all around the city like a cat with its scruff still up. MK was a fool to expect things to go back to normal. It was back to battling demons on a daily wanting to cause their own chaos to the city. 

MK wants to prevent the events that almost led to the defeat of the world and the victory of the white-bone spirit. So he does what he does best. He trains and believes in himself that it's going to be enough this time. 

MK arrives at Monkey King's shame temple to train since it's much closer than flower fruit mountain...only to find that monkey king had left a note on the door letting him know he wasn’t going to be there for some unspecified reason. 

The noodle delivery boy can’t help but feel his chest twist up like a bad batch of noodles. This was fine Monkey king did this a lot in the past. 

MK swallows down his disappointment and decides he can train on his own. He heads around back to where the training arena is located. Then he takes off his signature yellow jacket and reaches for his staff that he keeps tightly tucked behind his ear. He grows it to its normal size and gives it a test swing. 

Today's schedule followed its normal one (Barring the factSun Wukong was missing) MK woke up only a few minutes before work, busted his ass delivering noodles for Pigsy, and then either trained with Monkey King or by himself long into the night, he would return home sometimes a little before the sun would rise and claim a few meager hours of sleep.

And then the cycle would repeat. Sometimes MK would get called away to help one of his friends, or he would get dragged to a club by Mei, and sometimes they would be accompanied by a reluctant Red Son but ultimately MK would get only a few hours of sleep before he would start his cycle again. 

He worried that Pigsy would start suspecting why MK would sleep into the latest possible second before he would get up. It was like starving for weeks and then being fed a delicious small steaming pile of rice. But not wanting to waste a single grain you would pick every individual straggler up and consume it so the bowl was scraped clean.

Because his day was so long and full of so much work he would cling to the few extra precious seconds he could claim before repeating his overbooked day.

He was tired. And he was paranoid. And not nearly trained enough to fight anything as big as White bone Spirit.

They got lucky last time, and MK wasn’t what people expected or needed when a world-level threat attacked. 

So MK trained. He was training every night as his life depended on it as the world hinged on him. 

Like something was coming that was stronger than the White bone spirit and only MK could see it in his mind. And yet he kept driving on. Pushing and pushing with no regard for himself as long as his friends were taken care of and safe he didn't seem to care what happened to him. 

No one knew of what horrors lie just behind MK's eyelids that make the young adult push themselves this hard. 

MK spends his quiet time alone training and practicing this one move Monkey King showed off but was considered ‘too high level’ for him yet much to MK’s disappointment. 

It was this cool spinny trick where he made the staff grow in length last second to slam it down HARD onto a target. From what MK could gather, he was supposed to spin it while it was smaller to build up momentum, and then at the last second, he could grow or widen the staff for maxim impact. 

MK thinks he almost has it through lots of trial and error on his own. He knows Monkey King would be upset if he learned MK was trying to replicate the move from memory as opposed to learning it from the best. 

‘Well, I wouldn't have to learn on my own if you didn’t skip on training days or teach me yourself.’ MK thinks to himself bitterly as he warms up before practice, stretching his shoulders and arms out for a heavy workout. 

Then there is nothing left to do but make the rubber meet the road. Over and over he practices the swing, creating more and more divots and holes in the dusty earth as he tries to control the landing.

He can slam the staff down hard and grow or shrink it with no problem, but controlling where the staff would hit when it was moving and spinning at such a speed was tricky. 

It was three hours in when his shoulders started to hurt and the sweat on his brow was making his expresso-colored locks stick to his forehead. He thinks he's so close to getting it right. To finally do something right. 

His hands shake and his lungs feel like someone started a bonfire in them but he's so close. He swears he's going to get it right this time!

But something about how his hands shake or how fuzzy everything looks suddenly makes his world tilt. The Staff slips from his hands slightly and he has barely time to catch it in his sweaty grip before it tumbles from his grasp in this topsy turvy world.

He steadies himself letting out a grunt of frustration.

MK pants. Letting his arms hang limp to his side as his frustration builds up inside him like lave under the surface. He pushes the tears that want to spring up behind his eyes down and lets out a guttural yell. The kind of yell that takes all of your lung's air out of you. Trading his sorrow in for anger he allows the shouts to flow from him instead of tears. 

He yells again while swinging the staff wildly over his head, fighting his own demons in his head that whisper poisonous phrases into his ear.

‘Not worthy’ 

‘Your fault’ 

‘WEAK’

MK swings one more time with aching muscles expecting to hit more air in his frustrated strikes

Instead, it hits something more solid, something metal that sings with the impact. Taken aback it takes a moment for MK to realize what he's hit. 

A metal gleaming spear that holds firm against his own staff, is golden copper in color and gives off heat that feels like a bite to the face.

Connected to the spear is a frowning Nezha, red scarf whipping behind him as if acting like an angry flame. 

Confused, MK licks his dry lips and opens his mouth. “Nezha? Wha-”

“You should rest,” he commands like an older sibling catching the younger one staying up late to play video games. 

MK scowls and pushes back with his staff making Nezha stumble “don't tell me what to do. I'm fine.” 

“Your not.” Nezha insists on pressing forward. “You have been overworking yourself and your stupid, if you think you can keep going” Something about his tone properly pisses MK off. 

He grits his teeth and takes a swing at the immortal with the staff tightly gripped in hand. Nezha expects it and defects it easily with a flick of his wrist but there is a flame in his aura that makes MK think he shouldn't have done that.

It's like he's the one to light a candle because Suddenly MK feels like he is under the heat of a directed flame. 

Instinctively MK blocks with the staff and it's a good thing he does because Nezha is rushing forward in a flurry of jabs. MK yelps making sure to block each one inactively his training and reflexes kicking in before his brain did. Sparks fly from the impact of their weapons colliding 

“Yeild!” Nezha grows backing MK slowly up as the god gains ground on MK. MK grits his teeth and pushes back, swinging his staff that grazes Nezha so close he swears he's taken a few hairs off his head. 

But MK has been swinging his staff all day and his already exhausted muscles scream out in pain and his legs get wobbly underneath him. 

All it takes is a misstep from MK for him to end up on his back, Nezha’s foot at his chest MK struggles under Nezha's wheel foot and it's honestly pathetic how little strength he has to apply to keep them down. 

MK wiggles and lets out a large yell. 

"Yield young one." their eyes become threatening slits

"Let me up!" MK shouts angrily with wet eyes and he reaches up to try and pry their foot off him.

"I said yield!" Nezha commands again pressing his foot against his chest harder. 

"I can't! You don't understand!" MK cries out this time the wet eyes blink and tears start to pour down his cheeks and mix with the dusty earth. Great now he was crying in front of them again. 

Nezha is shocked to silence while MK struggles under them with another hiccupping sob. The boy rubs his eyes and he looks so much younger than he is. 

"You don't understand-" he repeats with a furious sob "I have to do better! We barely won last time!" He slams his fist into the dirt angrily at his side. Painful guilt is prevalent on his face.

"If I don't get stronger, better…next time we might not get as lucky, and everyone is depending on me and I don't want to lose Mei again and and-" the boy's eyes widen as monsters that were skin deep made themselves know. He starts hyperventilating grabbing onto his hair and tugging it as his frantic breaths come out of his chest at a too fast pace. Fears spilled out faster than the gushing words spewing from his lips.

‘Weak’ 

‘Not worthy’

‘Your fault’ 

“-So much of what happened was my fault! I wasn’t strong enough and couldn't do ANYTHING without help!” the boy explodes before continuing his mental breakdown right beneath Nezha, clearly this had been weighing on him longer than anyone could ever know. 

Nezha removes his foot from MK’s chest and kneels before him, pulling them up into a sitting position. The boy goes easily and flops forward into his chest like a rag doll. 

"H-hey it's okay. Breath with me. Come on follow my lead." the prince grabs one of MK's tight fists and places it against the center of his chest. 

"Breathe in time with me if you can. In-" he sucks in a low steady breath that MK tries to mimic, although a lot shakier and a little shorter.

 "-And out." Nezha exhales slowly letting the boy catch up. He continues the breathing pace as a live example for them. 

Each breath is equally measured and slowly but surely MK manages to bring his breathing down to a more manageable pace. He even feels a little calmer afterward. Like a thick fluffy blanket has been draped over him. 

When MK  feels like he is no longer actively having a panic attack Nezha smiles and ruffles their hair. 

"Maybe we got lucky last time. But we also had the determination of one  kid that did not want to give up on the world." He lifts the boy's chin and smiles "and that's why we won."

MK's chin wobbles and the next thing he knows MK throws his arms around Nezha looking for comfort. The boy flings his whole self into the prince's chest and for a second he worries he's misstepped again when Nezha does not react.

MK can practically feel the prince’s arms hover over their smaller form with uncertainty. but before MK can pull away and profusely apologize he's being hugged back. 

The embrace feels right. Like hugging an older brother who was comforting you after you got frightened by lightning and needed their older sibling to comfort them from the loud noises and darkness. 

“Why are you here?” MK asked when he pulled away, feeling quite bashful for his panic attack and needed to change the subject. 

Nezha raises his chin and looks to the side, also looking bashful for some reason. “I was sent from heaven to…observe you from a distance. Make sure you are not as crazy as your mentor.” 

MK blinks and his jaw hangs open a touch. “You were sent to spy on me?” 

“No, just to observe from afar without you knowing.” Nezha corrects with a sniff. 

MK throws his hands up in the air “that's called spying dude! Like you literally just described it!” 

Nezha rolls his eyes as if MK is being dramatic but other than that he doesn't seem to want to address it. Clearly, he knew it was spying but was just above admitting it.

MK stands and dusts his knees off. His legs feel like jelly though and he finds Nezha grabbing his wrist from the ground. 

“Meditate with me.” another command that has MK rolling his eyes at how pushy he was being. But you know sitting still for a bit sounded….not so bad. 

“It will be like training for your mind,” Nezha adds on as if he was lobbying for MK to sit and rest. There is a touch of a tone in his voice that is…undefinable to MK. the boy chews on his lip for a second before following the hand gripping his wrist back to the earth where he takes a lotus position next to the prince. 

MK relents with a grumble. “Okay. meditation won't be so bad.” 

The shift of the breeze through the trees could be heard and the slow breathing of MK mixes with it as he lets himself slowly uncoil. But he couldn't fully get himself to relax. All his worries started flitting about in his mind. 

Worries about the future. Fear of losing Mei again. The uncertainty and pressure that came with now heaven taking an interest in him. It felt like his back was aching from having to carry so much of it by himself and he instinctively curled forward from the weight. 

And Nezha. He was..helping him? Worried about him? It was weird and he didn't know how to label it. MK peaks an eye open and studies the prince with his closed eyes and crossed legs. He looks serene, yet completely noble even sitting in the dirt with a sweaty kid like MK. As if sensing MK’s eyes on him he speaks. 

"Stop thinking so hard," Nezha instructs suddenly, surprising MK and making him flinch, a single eye slides open to look at MK

"Sorry…I think my back is just not used to being so straight." MK shifts forward with a whine and a hand to his back. 

Nezha nods and stands and then walks behind MK sitting back down so his back was pressed firmly against theirs. MK instinctively sags against the support, finally finding something to lean on and ease the weight he was carrying around.

MK knows it's just a simple action to force MK to sit and rest for a bit…but it means something more than that. 

The action meant ‘lean on me.’ Offering help to someone who had been carrying too much for too long

"There…now meditate and just relax for a bit," Nezha instructs when MK stops squirming and gets comfortable. 

MK closes his eyes and has to suppress a yawn. You know, despite sitting in the dirt and covered in sweat…he was quite comfortable. And he was comfortable knowing Nezha was right here….maybe he could just rest. 

Yeah. just a short rest while someone helps him. Maybe this meditation thing wasn’t so bad 

—--------------------

Nezha could feel MK’s heartbeat through his back. The steady slowing thump thum thump reminded him that the kid was alive. It reminds him vaguely of a thumping tail of a certain monkey who also couldn't sit still. 

The moment was quiet between them. But in a good way. The comfortable kind of silence that comes with proximity bonding with someone. He can hear the full breath of MK behind him, he can feel their puls, and he can feel the warmth seeping through his back.

The prince wonders if MK feels safe with him. He might have not given the best first impression when they first met, he was a touch sore with how his fight with Sun Wukong went and perhaps took that out on the kid. 

That and now he was also sent to spy on them…hmm perhaps this was a good chance to mend a few bridges.

“listen …MK” the third prince raises a hand up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know you're carrying a lot. But there is no shame in relying on others to help you” he pauses and lets a beat pass before licking his lips to continue. 

“Even Sun Wukong got constant help from his brothers during his journey to the west.” he chuckles “and many of the celestials helped regularly too.” he sighs when there is a long pause from MK. 

“What I’m getting at is…you can count on your friends…and maybe you can also count on me?” he offers sheepishly feeling the embarrassment make itself known under his skin. When Mk takes too long to respond he realizes maybe he's overstepped. 

“...you know if you don't want me hanging around you its okay just to sa-” 

He is cut off by the rattling sound of a snore. It almost makes him jump out of his skin

He turns to find MKs head hanging against his chest, lashes curled closed as a small drop of drool makes it's way down the corner of his mouth. 

Nezha feels a warm fondness grow in his chest like a fuzzy stuffed animal. He smiles at the sleepy boy and decides not to disturb them. They definitely deserved a peaceful break.

Nezha turns away allowing MK to use him as a support. 

He would eventually have to report back to the jade emperor on what he thought about the monkey king's apprentice.

But that could wait…

—----------

"Uhhh….well this is unexpected," Pigsy states when he opened the door to find the two standing on his doorstep. 

Third lotus prince Nezha stands there stoically and under his arm like a sack of potatoes is a snoring MK who is limp-limbed like a rag doll in his grip.

"You are the father unit correct?"

Pigsy blinks and it takes a comically long time for him to nod. "Ah yeah. Sort of."

Nezha nods once stiffly. Seeming satisfied enough with that answer and so he hands over MK like some sort of fucked up delivery.

"He requires a day off." His words don't sound like a suggestion. More like a command and Pigsy feels like he's not in any position to say no. 

He openly accepts the sleeping boy from Nezha and MK's weight slumps against him as he lets out a comically loud snore. Chances are they weren't waking up anytime soon judging how he was apparently carried by Nezha from who knows where.

And as if to pull the strings to the curtain in this odd comedy play Pigsy was bearing witness to, Nezha bows his head slightly and wishes him goodnight. 

Leaving Pigsy in the doorframe of his apartment to ponder what he just witnessed. 

Tang pokes his head around the corner, all wrapped up in a fluffy red robe from his shower before bed. 

"Who was that this late?" The man asked adjusting the foggy glasses on his face. 

Pigsy hefts MK up onto his shoulder so he can put the boy to bed in his old room. "Not who you expect."

#I belive in Nezha big brother supramacy #MK #Monkie kid #lego monkie kid #Nezha #kall writes #fluffy #hurt/comfort #Nezha is big bro change my mind #commission writting #thank you again!