Chapter Text
It's a little past sunset when they, MK sweating and Wukong decidedly not, finish training. The cloud-swept sky is awash with color as the sun dips below the horizon, and this far out from the weather station, the air is so thick MK can hardly breathe around it. He swipes a hand over his forehead, and—with a huff— flicks off the sweat that gathered; twinkling in the dying light as they fall. MK lets himself drop to the ground with a sigh, the lingering warmth of the tiles seeping through his jacket.
"Looking pretty worn out there, bud," Wukong observes.
"Uh, nuh-uh," MK says as he raises his head and squints to look up at Wukong, who's back is to the setting sun; bathing him in shadow. MK might actually be as worn out as he said, because he only notices the water bottle rolling toward him when it hits his arm. It's blessedly cold and he grabs it with a quick thank-you, and maybe half a prayer, to Wukong. He chugs half of it haphazardly, and shamelessly dumps the rest on himself.
Wukong's chuckling at that, but MK meant it when he said shameless. MK regrettably pushes himself into an upright position. "Hey, I'm totally not worn out. I could go again. I could go ten more times."
Wukong waves him off, still laughing. "Nah, you've done plenty for today. Getting better every time, too!" MK would feel a little better about that if Wukong had cracked at least one sweat, which he says. "Ah, it takes a lot for someone like me to start sweating. Just keep at it, mmkay? You'll get there!"
"I guess," MK acquiesces, put out. He gets to his feet, stretching. The damp fabric clings uncomfortably to his skin— but if it wasn't the water to have done that, it would've been the sweat. He squints into the darkening horizon, already dreading the journey back. "Ugh, it's summer and the sun still sets so early?"
"That's life," says Wukong, sagely. MK shoots him a glare, but its for show. "What? D'ya want a ride back?"
MK blinks. "Uh, yeah," he says. "That'd be great, actually."
Wukong summons his cloud, and waits for MK to come bounding up (and throw his arms around Wukong, for security) to shoot off into the sky. Cloud somersaulting is breathtaking, in a much more literal sense then one might imagine. It quite literally rips the breath from your lungs, but only half of that is from the sightseeing. MK squints against the wind— it's effective for drying out his clothes, at least. And refreshing. The scenery rushes past them as the sun disappears fully into the horizon, lights dotting the landscape like stars.
MK breathes a small sigh of relief as they reenter Megapolis' climate-controlled streets. Wukong descends, letting MK hop off the cloud before he dissipates it.
"There 'ya go, bud." Wukong damn near ruffles the bandanna off of MK's head. "Rest up good, alright? Don't want you all grumpy and tired during training, tomorrow."
MK surreptitiously fixes his bandanna. "Yeah, yeah. Got it. Lots of sleep. Thank you for the ride, Monkey King!" He waves, only pausing a moment for Wukong to return the gesture, and ducks into Pigsy's Noodles.