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Mei picks at a kernel between her teeth as she pauses in front of a particularly shiny spike on the wall. The halls of Demon-Bull palace were adorned with tall, intimidating structures of metal and flames that seemed to pour from every corner. The girl squints at her reflection in the aged varnish, dislodging the popcorn debris from her back molar before continuing on her trek. Gilded doors extend to the ceiling like rows of golden towers, and it's only out of sheer muscle memory that she makes it to the right one. She props it open with her hip, using a considerable amount of force to do, as she cradles the bowl of popcorn; once she's through the threshold, it swings shut behind her, and she faces the room with a beaming smile.
"I survived!"
"Mei for the win!" MK chimes from his seat on the floor. His fingers move on the controller to pause his game, leaving his character mid-jump as he hops to his feet. "It's always a little spooky roaming around this place, especially with Red Son's parents lurking about." The boy scoops a handful of popcorn from the bowl, and Mei takes the opportunity to do the same.
"Please , this house is huge -- it's probably got it's own zip code. They'd have to literally sniff us out to know we're here," Mei points out. The words manage to be understandable despite a mouth full of food. MK takes the bowl from her hands with a complacent nod, returning to the floor and nursing the snacks in his lap.
"I mean, this probably wouldn't be a problem if we just asked to visit," he says, propping his feet onto a red fuzzy throw pillow. Mei sits beside him and pulls a blanket over her shoulders. She picks up MK'S controller and unpauses the level while he settles in to watch. "We're sort of cool now, right? They'd be fine if we stopped by every once in awhile."
Red Son plods in from the adjacent restroom. "No, they wouldn't."
"What?! We're awesome guests, though!" MK whines.
The demon boy shakes his head with a frustrated, characteristic sigh, flipping off the lightswitch as he leaves the bathroom carrying two pairs of slippers. His own feet are adorned with fuzzy pink things that look soft to the touch. He tosses the green pair to Mei, who is too distracted the game to not get in the face, and hands MK the yellow ones. MK excitedly adorns them right as Mei loses from an enemy hit, giving her a free moment to do the same - albeit with a small scowl.
Red Son moves towards the cozy spot on the floor; blankets of every shape and color carpet each other, various pillows lay astray, and there are discarded snack and drink containers everywhere. MK and Mei part naturally as Red Son goes to sit down. They scooch over, giving the demon his assigned seat between them and quickly falling into familiar postures. MK bounces his toes inside his slippers, seeming blissfully content with the bowl of buttery popcorn in his arms - Mei reaches over Red Son to grab some for herself, and dumps a few handfuls into the lap of her crossed legs. Red Son himself is busy reaching over the foot of the bed to grab his favorite pillow.
It's all very simple and perfect. These secret sleepovers were little slices of peace.
"Can't you talk us up a bit more?" MK begins again, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth and missing dreadfully, "I mean, I know they're sorta .. hardcore , but maybe they've come around a bit since the whole team up, y'know?"
"We literally met them over dinner," Mei replies as a few crumbs fly from her mouth. She wipes at a lip with her sleeve and goes for the controller again, restarting the level. "If we were gonna be welcomed by the household, they'd have done it by now. Oh! Maybe we could fight them again to win their approval?"
Red Son scoffs and crosses his arms. His hair, loose and untamable, smacks MK softly on the cheek as he shakes his head. "Please don't. Besides, I don't need my parents to approve of my companions," he grumbles. The slightly bothered tone draws a glance from the other two, who promptly offer encouragement.
"Yeah!" Mei proclaims
"That's right!" MK adds.
Red Son had previously mistaken this consistent validation from the pair as some sort of patronizing pity; but by now, he's realized that this sort of over-the-top endearment is just typical for the two friends. And they have no trouble extending it to the demon boy. He's learned to accept it, sometimes more willingly than others, and can't deny that it's occasionally just what he needs. Kind words. Friends.
A pause. "I'd advise against picking a fight with them again," Red Son begins, ".. if this poor performance is any indication of your resolve." He flicks a finger towards the tv right as Mei's character is defeated once more.
"You guys are ruining my mojo!" She insists, slapping the controller against the rug a few times in aggravation.
Soon enough, the popcorn moves from MK's lap to Red Son's, where everyone can comfortably reach for a snack. The controller changes hands between Mei and MK often; the demon occasionally chimes in with a chiding remark or advice for the game, but they generally ignore him, because it's funny to see him get a little steamed every time they do it. He does eventually get a chance to try, and when he does, he leans back and clears the level in a single go. MK cheers and Mei groans.
-
An hour later, the popcorn is all gone, and they've put on some old kung-fu movie. MK sits up with a stretch and a small frown. "We need to get our snack situation under control. If we keep leaving every hour to get more, we're bound to get caught."
"Then send Red," Mei replies from beneath her blanket.
"I am not serving you snacks on the hour," Red Son says flatly, from beneath a little corner of the same blanket.
"Well, then we need to make one big run to last us the rest of the night." MK stands, stretching his arms over his head in an anticipatory gesture. The shirt he chose to wear as pajamas has several soy sauce stains on it, and they stretch with him. The boy places his hands on hips and gazes down at Red Son, smiling. "C'mon, you and me – we'll fill our arms and be out of the kitchen before anybody knows."
Red Son sighs. He doesn't want to hear the duo whining when they don't have their treats, and he does want more popcorn. The demon reluctantly stands and tugs on the collar of his robe, posturing. "Fine. If you can manage, stay quiet and don't wander off."
The pair leave the room, beginning down the corridor in somewhat hushed steps. MK stills finds the tall walls and fiery brimstone sort of intimidating, but recently it more often just reminds him of his friend. They round a corner and MK touches a finger on the pointy tip of one decorative spike; it earns a guick glare from the demon, who hastens his stride in an effort to end the errand. MK is on his heels, all loud whispers and lopsided smiles.
"It's nice of you to host our sleepovers every once in awhile," he points out, ".. especially after we sorta, y'know – robbed the place."
"It is nice of me, isn't it?" Red Son stuffs his hands into the pockets of his robe, feeling his friend hovering at his back as they walk. It's not an uncomfortable presence, but one that always took a little time for Red son to get used to. They're approaching the gilded entryway of the kitchen, cast in a warm glow from the braziers, and the demon breathes a small sigh of relief that they've made it (thus far) undetected. Suddenly, though, he feels the presence at his back draw away. Red Son turns to see MK standing still; awkward in his posture and fidgeting with the hem of one sleeve.
"We don't have to do this here," he mutters, suddenly somewhat sullen; and quickly follows up with some vague gestures in elaboration. "I mean – we really like doing sleepovers at your place, but – It'd.. be easier to just go to Mei's. We don't want to make you keep us a secret from your parents," MK seems almost ashamed as he stares at his friend's familiar slippers; unsure of when it would be appropriate to lift his sodden gaze. "I know they don't like us."
There's a pause wherein Red Son finishes processing MK's sudden earnestness before shaking himself free of the shock. "Well.." the demon begins, "I don't know if that's true." Now his own gaze grows downcast as he searches for words. "My parents are no longer hostile towards you and your friends, but they still find you.. grating. Difficult to be around. So do I," Red Son raises his eyes to give a fond look, ".. but I also happen to like you guys a lot."
That gets MK to lift his head and look Red Son in the eyes again; somehow, it feels like a small victory.
"My parents simply don't understand you. They're from a different, distant era."
"Well, so are you."
"An even more distant era," Red Son replies snarkily, and it rewards a small chuckle from his friend. "They're not used to mortals being so carefree, or so.. powerful. Mother and Father are more than content to observe the entangles of the world from this place, and I think you simply remind them that.. things have changed. Are changing. If I've learned to live with that, then surely they will as well. Eventually."
MK seems torn about the kind sentiments. He chews at his lip and nods lightly, but Red Son could still see the doubt inside his posture. The demon sighs, a bit irritated with the lack of reception, and takes a few steps forward to flick MK on the forehead.
"Ow!" MK yips. The sound echoes only for a small moment, but it's enough to make the boy slap a hand over his own mouth and glare at Red Son.
"Stop looking so mopey," he says. Despite the somewhat harsh action, Red Son goes on to place a solid, assuring hand on his friend's shoulder; perhaps the only sort of kind touch he knows how to initiate. "This is my home as well. They're not obligated to greet or enjoy my houseguests." He gives an encouraging squeeze and a small, sincere smile. "As long as I live here, you'll be welcome."
The painfully raw display of camaraderie seems to disappear as quickly as it came on, because as soon as Red Son pulls his hand away, he's already shuffling onwards. "Come on, let's–"
"Red Son!" MK whines, high pitched and teary voiced. His eyes shine with adoration, golden and pure, as he cups his dimpled cheeks.
"No . Let's keep–"
"Dude, that was amazing!"
"Shush. We should just get to the kitchen and–"
"That was an incredible friend speech. I wish I got it on tape," the boy sighs, catching up to walk at Red Son's side, mercifully choosing not to mention his friend's embarrassed blush. "No – really. That was good." MK pauses and gives a genuine 'thank you' that makes Red Son sheepish, but fulfilled. The delivery boy always had that strange ability to make even the most hardened of souls cheer him on.
"Don't speak until we get back to the room, noodle brain," the demon grumbles. "We're being stealthy, remember?"
MK laughs, but obliges.
-
The pair return to Red Son's room, arms stretched full with juices and snacks; cookies, chips, crackers, and an entire bag of the seaweed crisps Mei loves so much. The door shuts behind them and, finally, they're all safe inside the tiny sanctuary of their making. MK immediately drops most of the food haphazardly onto a dresser and dives back into the blanket pile. Red Son grumbles soft and places everything down properly.
He turns, a small pack of tea cakes in his hand, but only finds Mei's beaming white smile inches from his face. He jumps back slightly - a subdued response wrought from experience. "What?" He asks, a single brow cocking impatiently.
"Ok, so! I know you hate it when I go through your stuff –"
"You're right!" Red Son replies, sarcastically chipper.
"But! You guys were taking forever, and the movie ended, and I was bored just sitting the floor, so–"
The demon prince places a hand atop Mei's hair and gently moves her out of the way.
There on the floor was a throne. A throne made of pillows, blankets, and other pieces of his room, but a throne nonetheless. The cushion from his plush chair placed on top a makeshift pallet made of books; two taller stacks extend to create makeshift armrests (of unequal heights, thanks to the girth of a single verbose encyclopedia) and a fluffed pillow perched on the foot of his bed at perfect headrest height.
"Ta-da!!" Mei exclaims, gesturing to her work with awed and expectant eyes.
".. Did you use my records as an armrest?"
"They were uneven! I used the ones from Sandy that you don't like."
Red Son's expression is a mixture of irritation, surprise, and although extremely subtly – amazement. MK is fawning over Mei's resourceful handiwork, poking and prodding to ensure it's stability, laughing when he takes a seat before standing up and admiring it again.
"C'mon, just try it out! It's for you~" Mei chimes in a sing-song voice.
Red Son heaves a sigh. It's a sigh composed of exhaustion, surrender, and the impending reality of having to reorganize all his belongings over the next few days. "You better not have scratched any of them," he grumbles, and peels open his rice cakes.
Mei makes an excited noise as Red Son takes his seat; it's only vaguely comfortable, but he can't deny the off beat, endearing sense of importance he gains when he settles in. MK settles down on his right and wrestles with the straw on a juice pouch. Mei flops down onto his left and picks up the remote, flicking through an array of late night comedy shows.
Red Son takes a bite out of his rice cake and chews slowly. "What was the purpose of this, anyhow?" He asks, "I don't recall asking for a throne in my bedroom."
Mei laughs; a bright and barky sound. "You live in a palace, duh! So obviously you get a big important man chair." Red Son rolls his eyes at the silly moniker, but only replies with a small hum. "Also, you take really good care of us when we visit – I mean, you protect us from your parents, and you even feed us!"
"And you get my favorite fruit punch!" MK supplies helpfully, lips already dyed a slight red.
Mei turns her gaze from the TV to give the demon a gentle look. She was not often gentle. "You deserve nice stuff."
Red Son is momentarily lost in the statement. On an instinctual, base level, it feels wrong. No, he wants to say, why would he of all people deserve nice things? Somehow, though, the gut reaction slowly fades. He succumbs to the words. Even if just for now, he tells himself, I deserve nice things.
It truly does feel like his palace the rest of the night, watching bad infomercials with his friends and eating sweet things until his teeth hurt.
–
Lady Iron Fan entered the room and allowed a few beams of light to pour into the dark room from the hallway outside. The sunrise is hidden behind velvet blackout curtains, and she has to turn on a nearby table lamp to get any decent illumination.
Red Son and his friends lay asleep on the floor in front of the television, tangled in an array of blankets, strange heap of belongings not far from their heads. The monkey king's protege sleeps on his back loudly, unabashedly, all clumsy limbs and a bit of drool on his cheek. The dragon girl is on her side and facing her friends, nose scrunched slightly, fingers twitching and curling into gentle fists like she's wrestling softly with a dream.
Red Son sleeps in the middle. Peaceful. As beautiful as the day he was born.
She leaves the room and makes sure the door closes with a quiet click. She's somewhat surprised to see her husband lurking in the hallway, pink robe wrinkled, covering a gaping yawn.
"Are they still here?" He asks, sounding tired and unimpressed.
"Yes. Who knows how young people sleep so soundly?"
The Bull King shrugs. He extends a hand for his wife to take, and she graciously accepts, a soft smile curling her lips.
"Let's take a longer breakfast, hm? I'm sure Red Son will be finished shuffling them out of the garage by then."