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The television droned on in the background, completely forgotten by the two entangled shapes spread over the couch. One rested atop the other, stradling and slouching comfortably with not so much of a protest from the celestial monkey conveniently made into a cushion by the green-clad girl.
Wukong laid almost limp under the spell of the girl that conquered Samadhi fire into something of her own, obediently keeping his eyes closed, letting the hands cradling his face squeeze and pull as much as it wished, here and there―the plump of his cheeks seemingly her personal playground.
Even with his eyes closed, he could almost picture the heated gaze directed at him. It burned him, alike to a wild fire consuming a lush green forest, the smoke billowing from it made sure his instincts remained overdrive within her presence, face becoming a shade closer to a strawberry with every passing second.
Any second now―"Would you stop?"
A snicker. "No"
There was that cheeky voice, sing-songed in-tune directly in front of his face, too close, and her breath fanned in his face, too warm, hot, singing every last bit of his nerves.
A part of him just about begged to retaliate, maybe grab those wrists and flip their position around. Turn the situation around. Retrieve control. Assert his might, making sure that the young adult knew that those legends weren't exaggerated in the least.
He should.
And he would, he very much would if only he hadn't been on that journey for however long it was. If only he hadn't learned the lesson. Enlightenment, the very greatness staying his hand from protecting his dignity.
Patience. A virtue to have.
He was never a complete saint, though.
So, wrestling the girl off was still on the equation. No matter how childish it sounded.
He was quite desperate, after all.
Regardless of where his thoughts and planning had brought him to, he only sighed, petulantly, like he was an innocent victim falsely put on charge. And in this case especially, he was truly that. A rare case of him not being the troublemaker for once. Oh woe is him.
His sigh earned him nothing more than a rather annoying pinch to his cheek, which dragged out a sound near to a whine from his throat. His playmate only giggled at the display, rubbing circles at his eyelids as if scolding the not-yet opened sight to keep obeying her and her only despite him being the owner of the body.
Almost irritating. Being treated like he won't hurt a fly, like he won't hurt her. He did, once.
Almost comforting.
It unnerved him.
"I'm not MK," he said. Pointing out the obvious like she needed a reminder. But to him, he thought it might be something that he needed to put out there in the air. Because this whole thing was just strange, unfamiliar to someone like him. Someone who broke things more often than he could heal anything.
So he thought she might be mistaken.
Maybe she did mistake the two.
He is not MK.
Because that kid is undeniably so much better than he could ever be―
"You're not MK, duh." she huffed, amusement clear in her voice. The irritatingly melodic, beautiful, voice.
Wukong furrowed his brows.
She didn't mistake them. Then―
"Why?" Wukong croaked out.
Why?
Rustling could be heard. Mei had shifted closer, almost dangerously sitting right on his lap now.
What is he asking?
"Hm," she hummed, a long pause―in her mind, she tested his question, ran it through a few times. "I didn't tell you?" The surprised note that accompanied the question surprised Wukong even more so, punching out a laugh from him.
"Pfft, you grabbed my face and told me to close my eyes," he continued to laugh in the manner that was a bit absent-mindedly, a composed front. "Not much of an explanation, i gotta say"
And like an afterthought, he muttered, "You don't just do this with someone like me―"
His mind kept turning that line over and over. Someone like him. Someone like him. Him.
Another pinch. Harder and longer this time. He winced, almost opening his eyes but stopped short only because he didn't want to see what kind of expression the other had right now. Scared of what he might find.
"What i do―" she punctuated her words with pinches that he didn't dare to pull away from― "is none of your business." Ouch
"I don't need to explain myself. Especially to you." Okay, really ouch there.
"If i want to touch your dumb-dumb face," she was impossibly closer now, somehow, pressing her thumbs lightly onto the skin below his eyes, adding pressure as she went on, "then i will"
"And," Her hands moved to make space for a gentle sensation to press against his cheek. A soothing feeling, of which Wukong immediately registered what it actually was. His eyes startled wide open from shock, jolting away from the unexpected affection although not too far with how her hands still grasped the back of his head, heat singing from the spot touched―by her lips, he belatedly realized. A kiss.
"If I want to kiss you, then, I will." Mei grinned, proud in the way that she just broke the foundation of Wukong's reality―arranging it into something that allowed space for her presence in his life.
The grin, all cheshire-like. An enigma as always with how she presented herself. Confident in who she chose to be.
Mei drank in the state the other was reduced to, her prize for the taking.
If Wukong were any lesser of a demon, he would say his fate had been sealed. Determined by a courageous and mischievous woman.
He wasn't given the chance to recuperate.
"Wait―" his protest ceased as soon as it was born. He couldn't stop the way that the hands that had retreated earlier pulled him closer again by the back of his head, the burn of her fingers digging into his scalp almost pulled out a keen from him as she didn't hesitate to shower him in kisses.
One dropped on his forehead, a simple pressure. Almost like a prayer. Warm.
Another feather-light one on the tip of his nose, tickling him. Safe.
Another skirting one on his jaw, peppered all the way down to his throat. Tempting.
So many more to follow. Such advances scorching him from the inside out. The softness that he never thought he would be drowned with.
And his hands twitched, not knowing where to retreat to―
"Put it around me, monkie man." She delightfully prodded at him, his mind apparently an open book to her.
Although, in typical Wukong fashion, the invitation from her instead made his concern childishly laid somewhere else not even addressed. So outlandish. Proven because what he said next even stopped the spitfire called Mei from her onslaught of kisses.
"There are 3 of them 'monkie man' for you."
Mei then looked at him, really looked at him. Her brow raised, Wukong could imagine the gears turning in her head before it clicked for her.
Whatever conclusion she had come to, she showed it in the way that she tilted her head, taunting and smirking while the so-called Monkey King squirmed and pouted under her. A scoff escaped her when he dug his claws into the couch instead of finally putting his arms around her the longer she refused to answer to what he wanted.
So much for an immortal old monkey.
She could delay it further, just to see who would give up first. Put their stubbornness against each other and see which one prevailed into tomorrow. But no. She had never been known for patience so she was not gonna start now.
"Wukong?" A lilt of teasing, uncertainty carefully masked away.
And that was the right answer.
His name.
It rolled off her tongue like it was natural, something that should have felt out of place yet felt right in the moment. Filling a hole that had been left gaping for long. Kind, even when directed at him.
The beaming look she was graced with was well worth it. A youthful look that was usually hidden between stress lines no matter how much he joked around.
Mei liked it.
Wukong seemed to agree.
He pulled her into an embrace with the fervor of a puppy long separated from its master. A little too enthusiastic for someone who always feigned casualness. And he must have realized that, too, because he flushed immediately after. The speed of which it took to get him all red was endearing.
‘A vulnerable display’, Mei thought fondly.
And she couldn't possibly stop the laughter that bubbled up from her chest from it. Softer than Mei’s usual brand of laughter.
It carried a meaning.
One that Wukong couldn't begin to dissect right then.
Instead, Wukong surged forward, being the one to shower her face with kisses this time, her slowly reddening cheeks being the main victim.
Revenge yet not quite.
Gratitude, perhaps.
Love? Maybe one day.
There was fear in him.
Always.
But right now,
Right now he didn't care.
It disappeared into the back of his mind.
After all, he was fully determined to try and smother out the laughter Mei kept guffawing out by kissing her silly.
And if it proved to just make her laugh even more, he just had to kiss her more.
Face entirely aflame, his smile too big to pretend that he was just enacting revenge.
Because he had something entirely precious in his arms. And he didn't have to let go.
Not anymore.