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The morning light always lit Mk’s apartment a little too early for Red Son's taste. Despite that it was gentle, warm and something he’d recently grown fond of. He would lay in the quiet of the room when Mk slept the morning hours away and appreciate the moment of peace he found himself in before getting up and finding something edible in the kitchen.
Their lives were constant chaos, between whatever villain that was trying to destroy the world and every other responsibility they’d managed to accumulate. So these few and far between mornings had become a time he was incredibly thankful for.
Red Son shifted under the covers and he fished his phone off the bed side table. Without his glasses, he squinted at the glowing blobs before deciphering 9:03 out of the shape. He dropped the phone down softly before sitting up. He used to be incredibly cautious about not waking Mk up, but after a while he figured out that the boy could probably sleep through an atomic bomb.
Still he was careful not to disturb him anyways, because if Mk noticed he would grab him unconsciously and the heavens know Red Son can’t bring himself to pull away and would be stuck there until Mk woke up.
So he sat up carefully, stretching out his arms that had grown stiff from being still for so long. Red Son heard Mk mumble something, but shook it off and moved to grab his glasses. His fingers grazed the rim when the bed jolted.
“Lady Bone Demon!” Mk shouted, voice taught with fear. Red Son felt his heart stop. Flame caught through his hair and burst to life in his hands. He searched the room quickly before turning towards Mk.
He was paler than usual and his hair was plastered to his forehead, eyes clouded and over spilling with tears as his body jumped with shaky breaths. He’d summoned the staff, but a cursory look around the room made his gaze drop at the staff then to Red Son, who consequently extinguished the flames dancing through his fingers.
“S- sorry Red, false– false alarm. I just… had a bad dream.” He explained as he put his staff away. Mk ran the sleeve of his hoodie over his face, trying to wipe the evidence of his tears away. He caught Red Son's concerned expression and smiled weakly. “It just caught me off guard.”
Red Son reached for the tissue box next to the bed and offered it to Mk. “Thanks Red.” He said softly. Red Son watched him as he pulled a few free. Something about this all… bothered him. Mk had nearly given him a heart attack a moment ago, but Noodle-boy was acting like this was simply commonplace. It felt like he was trying to pretend like nothing had happened. Hmph, like usual.
“Does this happen often?” Red Son asked, noting the tissue boxes half-empty state. Mk froze, opening his mouth to answer but Redson cut him off. “Without bravado or defense, please.”
Mk glared at him blearily before sighing and giving in. “Yeah, I guess. I've been doing pretty good about it though, because they don’t really happen too often and they’ve got to be triggered, so I can just plan around them.”
Red Son just stared at his boyfriend with frustration and worry. Why can’t Noodle-boy just be honest about his struggles? He swears the man treats his problem like the plague; he avoids them to his best ability and tries to keep others away from them, fearing they’ll be infected.
Mk’s a moron, but he’s his moron.
“How do you plan around them?” Red Son asked. He could worry about Mk’s avoidant tendencies later.
“I just sleep at my dad’s. Being there helps to make them less severe, and if I start yelling in my sleep they can wake me up. Plus if I’m worked up or anything I've got Pigsy or Tang to calm me down, so it works out to be a win-win situation.”
Red Son could feel himself graying. Not over Mk’s solution of going home, no, that made perfect sense to him. He was hung up on something else.
“So to some degree of success, you can tell when you’re going to have a terror?”
Mk nodded, shaking his hand in a so-so gesture. “About ninety percent of the time.”
“So you realized you were probably going to have terror, and you didn't tell me so I could wake you up?” He asked, and Mk paled.
“I– I didn’t uh… want to bother you.” He said, sensing he’d made a mistake. Red Son felt a flame flick though his hair in irritation.
“Your well being isn’t a ‘bother’ Noodle-boy.” He began. “Secondly, a warning would have prevented me from being… startled as well.” Red Son admitted, despite its burn across his tongue. “I am not unaffected by your past foe’s. My memories of them are not fond either.”
Mk looked at him wide eyed, guilt riddling his face. “Oh crap, I didn’t even realize— I’m so sorry!” He would have continued rambling if Red Son hadn’t cut him off again.
“I’m not mad, nor do I require your apologies. It’s not like I’ve ever said anything, but I want you to be more open with me in the future.” He paused. “For your sake and mine.”
Mk’s eyes were watery as he nodded. “I‘ll try my best, I promise.” He wrung his wrists softly until Red Son opened his arm to him. He didn’t say anything further, his vulnerability completely spent for the day.
Curse Mk for making him be the emotionally mature one.
Fortunately, Noodle-boy understood the gesture and slumped against him, pressing his tear-stained face against Red Son’s neck. Mk’s skin was far cooler than his, not in an irritating way, but in a soothing sense. Like a soft breeze on a warm day.
Red Son carefully carded his fingers though Mk’s mess of a bed-head. He could feel him breathing softly against his shoulder.
“You are a thorn in my side, you know that?” He said, and Mk laughed as he leaned against him, their shoulders bumping together with each soft jump of his chest.
“Thank you.” He responded, tucking closer. Red Son snorted.
“For what?” The demon asked incredulously.
“For sticking it out with me? I don’t know, I —well I feel like I can be a mess sometimes.” Mk shrugged as he pulled away. “I just appreciate that you care enough to deal with my problems.”
Red Son felt exasperated. If only he could know how everyone else saw him. Instead he mentally added this to the list.
Things for Mk to bring up on when I finally convince him to go to therapy:
- Avoidant tendencies
- Self esteem issues
Hopefully the list wouldn’t progress any further than that.
Red Son focused back into the conversation. “There’s no need for that. Your problems don’t make you any less the man that managed to kick my entire family's ass and unfortunately steal my heart while doing it.” He reminded him.
There was a pause as Mk stared wide eyed and face flushed. “You can’t just say that! ” He shouted, flopping back on the bed, nearly kicking Red Son in the face. “My heart already was pounding earlier, I don’t need it to beat out of my chest!”
Red Son scoffed, but found the corner of his lips tick upward in spite of himself. He shook off the display and stood up. He stretched slightly before leaning over Mk to press a quick kiss against his forehead.
Mk was redder than the headband he swears he’ll wear till death.
Red Son grinned sharply, pleased with his work. He patted Mk’s surprised face in a ‘ 'I win’ gesture before pulling away.
“Any requests for… whatever I try to make in the mess of your kitchen?” He asked.
Mk opened his mouth to respond, but his words tumbled out of his mouth with no coherency. “I-I uh. I um, well—”
“Perfect. I’ll decide.” Red Son said, slipping out of the room. He made it halfway down the hall when he heard a thump from Mk falling off the bed.
“Ouch— Red!” He shouted down the hall. Red Son just laughed as he got into the kitchen.
“Better hurry, Noodle-boy! Before I make the Jiang bing extra spicy.” He shouted down the hall. There was an outraged gasp.
“You wouldn’t— actually you would.” Mk yelled back. Red Son smiled as he pulled open the apartment's fridge.
Despite everything, Red Son was almost entirely convinced that they would make it, the two of them. Call it wishful thinking, -which he didn’t partake in- but something in his stomach, something in his heart said so. And for once, he was inclined to agree with his useless base instincts.
We’ll make it. He mused as Mk slid into the kitchen, his fluffy Monkey king socks causing him to drift across the laminated floors and pitch over the couch with an oomph.
And we’ll be plenty fine doing it.
Red Son thought with a grin.