pull until i'm left with burns

by Anonymous

Summary:

It's familiar.

Wukong leans his head against Macaque’s shoulder and can't help but feel safe. His thoughts return quietly to the soft haze. Macaque was safe, right? Mac was good. Mac was his friend.

Right?

A soft sigh above him. “It's been a while since I've seen you like this.”

The words rang true though it didn't feel that long to Wukong. Mac was his friend always. They were always together. They were safe.

His head hurt.

Chapter 1

Wukong had known it was going to be a bad day the moment he'd tripped getting out of bed, blankets trapping his limbs and falling with him onto the floorboards in a tired heap. His movements felt sluggish and heavy, like ocean currents pulling him down, and it was a struggle to snag his phone off the nightstand, eyes blurring as he texted MK that their training was cancelled for the day— sorry, bud, something came up.

His head tiredly dropped back onto the blankets, their warmth a soft comfort when his mind and body both felt too heavy.

His head hurt. His heart hurt. It was a dullness to his thoughts that just barely held back layers upon layers of hurt, if he pulled back the tiredness, it would just be raw emotions, indecipherable things pushing down all at once.

Too much all at once.

Hands moved to cover his ears as he buried his face further in the blankets. He didn't need to breathe anyway.

Still, it did nothing to fix the weight of it. Too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too big. Everything all at once.

So he took the dullness in his mind, let himself curl around it like a blanket. If it was too big? He'd shrink. If it was too loud? He'd go quiet.

So he did.

“...this again.”

That was how Macaque found him, small and curled up beneath the mess of blankets on the floor, attempting to ignore the world.

Wukong didn't even have a moment to react before he was suddenly snatched out of the blankets, world twisting in loops of color for an instant before he found himself held in the crook of Macaque’s arm, head resting against his shoulder.

He hadn't expected this, not from Macaque. Not anymore at least.

“Mac—?” He starts but doesn't get the chance to finish as he's softly bounced once then twice, words slipping away entirely at the distraction. It's soothing.

It's familiar.

Wukong leans his head against Macaque’s shoulder and can't help but feel safe. His thoughts return quietly to the soft haze. Macaque was safe, right? Mac was good. Mac was his friend.

Right?

A soft sigh above him. “It's been a while since I've seen you like this.”

The words rang true though it didn't feel that long to Wukong. Mac was his friend always. They were always together. They were safe.

His head hurt.

His hand moved to his mouth as he harshly chewed on it with a soft whine, but it did nothing against the spike of pain in his brain.

Something hurt.

An annoyed grunt. Wukong’s hand was roughly pulled out of his mouth, clasped in a larger hand to keep him from biting down again. “Stop hurting yourself.”

Another soft whine leaves him as he presses his face against Macaque’s chest. He feels it shake in another soft sigh. “Where does it hurt, Wukong?”

He bumps his head repeatedly against Macaque’s chest, tears swimming in his eyes. Macaque drops Wukong’s hand to press his own against the side of Wukong’s face. The difference in temperature makes Wukong pause for a moment, quietly leaning into Macaque’s colder fingers. Macaque slowly rubs soft circles against Wukong's temple, fingers skirting along an old pinching injury.

Wukong’s eyes flutter close, leaning further into the other's fingers, quietly soothed. His tail moves to wrap loosely around Macaque’s arm.

“At least you're quiet like this,” Macaque muttered, as he slowly started rocking him as well, trying to ease him into sleep. “You used to be so…”

He trails off. Wukong had curled further around him, little hand clenched in the fabric of Macaque’s shirt.

He tried to untangle him, to lay him back down on the bed, but Wukong’s grip seemed to only grow tighter, regular strength showing through in that instant. Macaque rolled his eyes but easily snagged up one of the blankets and went out into the living room, leaning back on the couch with Wukong asleep on his chest. He draped the blanket around them both before a hand reached up to run through Wukong’s fur in slow soothing movements.

This was familiar.

Macaque’s heart hurt.

He buried the pain away. He'd grown used to it.

Chapter 2

Summary:

“You're such a mess.” The words are quiet, but it's not the meaning his mind latches onto, just the sound. Familiar. Mac.

Safe.

“Mac,” he whines out, face burrowing into Mac's shirt. “Mac, Mac, Mac—”

A tug on Wukong’s ear stops him entirely. “Shut it. We both know I'm not going anywhere.”

Cheek smushed against Mac’s chest, one eye peering up at Mac's disgruntled expression, Wukong was sure Mac was nicer than this.

Wukong woke to his head resting on Macaque’s chest, fingers clenched into his shirt, wrapped in blankets. His mind settled quietly. It was cozy. Safe and warm. So different from how those days under the Lady Bone Demon's—

He froze, fingers trembling against Mac's shirt, breath hitching softly. Suddenly, the blanket wasn't warm enough, it was rough and thin and wrong and the hold Mac had him in wasn't safe anymore.

He let out a whine, but he couldn't do more than shake, there was a weight over him, something worse than the haze, heavier than the blanket or Mac's arm, it was just cold.

Whines faded into soft fearful chirps, quiet cries asking for help, for someone, anyone, please, get him out—

He feels a hand slowly start running up and down his back, soft circles brushing away the cold with each gentle motion. He feels himself flop onto Mac's chest, body untensing and unraveling as the seconds pass, soft chirps replaced with quiet sniffles.

“You're such a mess.” The words are quiet, but it's not the meaning his mind latches onto, just the sound. Familiar. Mac.

Safe.

“Mac,” he whines out, face burrowing into Mac's shirt. “Mac, Mac, Mac—”

A tug on Wukong’s ear stops him entirely. “Shut it. We both know I'm not going anywhere.”

Cheek smushed against Mac’s chest, one eye peering up at Mac's disgruntled expression, Wukong was sure Mac was nicer than this.

He doesn't know how to ask.

He doesn't think he should.

His mind easily latches onto something else.

“Mac's smelly.”

A flick to Wukong’s cheek has him quietly whining, face hiding once more in Mac’s shirt.

“Death will do that to a guy,” Macaque admitted and Wukong peeks up at him, little hands reaching forward and grasping Mac's arm as it gets near him.

His hands push up Mac's sleeve, as if expecting a myriad of injuries littering him to show off his undead state, brow scrunching up when there's no sign of it past a few recent bandages.

“No bugs…”

“Were you hoping for a snack?” Mac drawls, but he doesn’t seem annoyed, amusement rolling off him in soft waves.

“Nooooo…” Wukong starts, betrayed in an instant as his stomach growls.

A raised eyebrow before suddenly hands are lifting Wukong up so he's right above Mac. He kicks out his feet, hand reaching down but being just barely too far to poke at Mac's face.

“Someone's hungry,” Mac tells him, keeping him suspended for a few long moments. Wukong lets out a quiet whine, hands reaching down.

The moment he's brought back down, his hands latch onto Mac's shirt.

He doesn't want to let go.

Mac is safe.

Mac is his friend.

He trusts Mac. Always.

Something about that makes him sad.

His heart hurts.

He brings his hand to his mouth, chewing on it roughly. It distracts him.

Mac lets out a tsk, moving to grab Wukong’s hand out of his mouth. There's a few soft taps against the side of Wukong’s head.

“Whatever you're thinking of, stop it.”

Even if the words are rough, there's an inkling of concern there.

Wukong wonders when his friend became so rough with him.

He wonders why.

He burrows his face against Mac's chest, the smell of rot filling his nose.

Even with all the differences, Mac was still there for him.

He was still safe.

And Wukong still felt loved.

Notes:

how do you write longer chapters?? how do you plan stuff and stay focused on it?????

Notes:

don't be an asshole.

i've been having a bad few days so have some comfortslop. it's kind of ass.