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Macaque's phone was ringing.
Normally, the shadow monkey would just ignore it and go back to whatever trashy soap opera his TV had decided to play tonight, but...
The Mayor's contact photo flashed at him from where his phone lay on the coffee table.
A beat.
A sigh.
Then he picked up the phone, "What do you want, Min?"
"Hello!" came the Mayor's cheery voice, ignoring Macaque's question, "Are you doing anything important right now?"
Macaque sighed, "Why would I be doing anything important at," he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, "...2:35 in the morning?"
They laughed, "I do plenty of important stuff at 2:35 in the morning! Like watering my basil, and reading Wikipedia articles, and staring at the ceiling..."
Macaque rubbed a hand over his face in a vain effort to feel less tired.
"...You can't sleep again?"
"Not in the slightest!"
Insomnia was not the most fun thing to live with, but the shadow monkey had learned to plan his days around it. When it came to light that the Mayor also was affected by nighttime wakefulness, they had formed a pact, of sorts.
Macaque huffed, "I'll be there in 5." It didn't make him any happier about being disturbed.
With a groan, the shadow monkey got up, cracked his back, and stepped through a portal to arrive at the Mayor's front door. He knocked, then counted down from three on his fingers.
As he was putting the last finger down, the door opened to reveal a relatively sleepy Mayor - at least, compared to his daytime... personality.
"Oh!" they exclaimed softly, glancing down at their watch, "That was... faster than you said, Macaque."
"Yeah, yeah," the monkey grumbled, shuffling past the Mayor and into their apartment, "You're still keeping this place freakishly clean, eh?"
The Mayor shut the door before sending him a look, "It's not freakishly clean, it's a perfectly normal amount of clean!"
"The couch should not be sparkling, Min. It's too clean."
A weak protest of, "But the cartoons..." came from behind him. Macaque peered over his shoulder at the former thrall, who had poked the tips of their fingers together. Likely another thing the ice demon had picked up from the anime they'd unwillingly watched with him on one particularly late night. He really was a terrible influence.
"Anime isn't real, y'know. We've been over this. Multiple times," the shadow monkey said.
The Mayor squinted at him, obviously doubting Macaque's very wise and reasonable words, "Doesn't your nephew-son have anime-scale battles every other week?"
It took him a moment to register that the ice demon was referring to MK. Immediately, Macaque's face flushed as he grumbled, "Not my son. Or my nephew."
"Whatever you say."
Desperate to move the conversation away from that particular topic, the shadow monkey cleared his throat, "Welp. How do you want to do this tonight?"
The Mayor hesitated for a moment, then, "Cuddles? I want to at least attempt to fall asleep tonight." Macaque nodded. It was early enough in the night - or morning - for the Mayor to suggest it. He walked over to the ice demon's incredibly comfortable couch and sat down heavily.
The Mayor joined him with some blankets and the TV remote a few seconds later. They warily handed it to him, saying, "As long as it's quiet. I know you don't usually sleep for another few hours." Then got comfy via curling into the shadow monkey's side after throwing a few blankets onto him.
The Mayor's TV had the soap opera from earlier on. Great. Macaque could watch nobles be stupid and overly dramatic next to one of the most overly dramatic people he knew. Unlike the nobles, however, the Mayor wasn't stupid.
They sat in silence for a while, nothing but the slight ticking of the clock accompanied by the fridge's whirring coming from the kitchen all blending with the muffled sound of the TV.
"...Macaque?" the Mayor mumbled from where they were curled up, slurred voice an obvious indicator of their current state of consciousness.
"Mmnh?" he grumbled back, not too focused on whatever was going on between Countess what's-her-face and Duke bad-facial-hair.
"You called me... Min earlier," the former thrall said, shifting slightly closer to Macaque as he froze, "...Why?"
The shadow monkey was not really prepared for this conversation. Ah well. With any luck, they won't remember it in the morning.
"It's short for Mint," he said, fully prepared for them to laugh it off, "...it felt like it fit you."
The Mayor did not laugh the nickname off. If Macaque could see their face, he would bet that it was fond based on their tone of voice as they said, "How nice... Mac."
They drifted off not long afterward - something about Macaque could always get them to fall asleep. Probably his body heat. The shadow demon felt his eyes droop more and more as his head landed on top of the Mayor's.
Mac had a bit of a ring to it.