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Hand in hand they lay under stars and plum blossoms. It had been many years since Macaque had last visited the Sage's mountain. He never wanted to see it again--it was filled with too hurtful of memories to bare. Yet here he was, laying in the grass under the same trees that still only bring agony at the sight, five fingers interlocked with five in turn.
It had only been recently that Wukong was able to convince Macaque to trust him again, a fragile thing that somehow turned into this just two months later. Though, they never were ones to follow the rules, including their own. With the newfound trust came other emotions--older emotions. Ones Macaque had locked away long ago, deep in his heart so they may never resurface. But he was always weak against the sage, after all.
The soft snoring emitting from beside the demon only made his thoughts falter slightly. Wukong had invited him, for whatever reason, to a "picnic". By "picnic" Wukong had meant simply laying the grass and talking. Neither of them noticed how fast time slipped away and soon the sage was asleep, hand interlocked with Macaques. He did want to move, to leave, but he didn't. He didn't want to leave Wukong alone or risk waking him to move him, so he stayed, wide awake.
The demon didn't sleep much after all.
The sage rolled over, closer to Macaque, after the thought. They were now nuzzled perfectly against his side, face quickly buried in the crook of his neck with a content sigh. The movement startled the demon but not by enough, turning his head for a better angle and placing the hand that was once being held around the other's waist. He closed his eyes after, drifting away to the same place Wukong was in.
The demon didn't dream much after all.