Tumgik
#macaque couldn't be the only person I picked on with guilt related angst this week
skellebonez · 3 years
Note
From the prompt list, how about General #50 with whoever you want from Monkie Kid?
I’m adding an extra note here that THIS is the fill my cats wouldn’t let me finish. I ended up scrapping the original fill and rewriting it completely because I lost my train of thought after the 3rd instance of one of them climbing onto my keyboard for cuddles. (On the bright side, the cats are happy and sleeping soundly now.)
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Pigsy stared in disbelief at the absolutely drenched person in front of him. It was one of the odd days the weather station had planned rain for and almost everyone chose to remain inside or take proper precautions when going outside.
Everyone... except the Monkey King it seemed.
He was absolutely drenched, clothes hanging off his form in a sad mimicry of his regalia, armor completely missing. His hair was flattened against his scalp, phoenix feather cap that normally adorned it held loosely in his hand. His tail hung limp behind him, tip barely thumping against the back of his leg, and his ears drooped just enough to make Pigsy realize something was really bothering the other ancient.
“I... I didn’t want to be alone...” He offered as explanation, voice flat and dull and nothing like the boastful and loud person Pigsy remembered. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
His first reaction to seeing Sun Wukong for the first time, storm drenched and at his doorstep, in 500 years was anger. But at those words... he just couldn’t hold onto it. Not entirely anyway. The fact he could have gone to anyone else, Sandy or MK especially, but chose to come to him? The one person who would probably tell him to kick rocks and get lost? He supposed that meant something.
“I didn’t wanna be alone either,” He finally said, moving out of his doorway to let the ancient monkey step inside. He had a good idea about why he was here. He stopped on the welcome mat, just far enough that Pigsy could shut the door behind him, and didn’t take another step. “You just gonna stand there?”
Wukong lifted up a dripping wet arm, looking at it forlornly. Oh, he was... really down... he hadn’t seen him like this since he was burnt up, back when Red Son still went by Red Boy. “Your floor...” he finally offered vaguely, earning an annoyed groan in return.
Pigsy grabbed his sleeve and dragged him farther inside, guiding him to the bathroom and shoving him into it. “Dry off. There’s a guest robe in the cabinet. Join me in the kitchen when you’re done.” was all he left him with before grabbing a towel slamming the door (gently) behind him and drying up the hallway before heading to the kitchen himself.
It took longer than expected for Wukong to come out, especially since he heard Tang’s hair dryer being used (when he came back from late volunteer work at the library he would NOT be telling him about that), but when he came out looking like he had gained twice as much fur as he normally had and looking less like a sad limp noodle and more like a disgruntled cat Pigsy understood why. And poorly held back a few snickers at his expense. But he didn’t say anything, gesturing to the two bowls of simple noodles he had made in the meantime.
They sat at the table together, eating together and slowly but surely Wukong looked more calm and relaxed. Still sad, but relaxed.
This wasn’t how he expected to spend their old Master’s birthday, but it was better than what he planned. He just hoped Tripitaka was alright alone.
63 notes · View notes