Work Text:
Macaque watched as MK flew away. It had been a pretty good training session today. Since MK was being trained by Wukong and Macaque now, he’d been getting a lot more technical training than with just Wukong. It also means that Macaque had been visiting the mountain a lot more. He stared at the empty sky where MK had disappeared, but his thoughts were soon interrupted by Wukong’s voice.
“Wowww, not too bad, bud. Turns out you can be a decent teacher,” Wukong spat, walking up behind Macaque. It wouldn’t have been so bad of a comment if it weren’t for the excessive sarcasm in his tone. Macaque scowled, not turning to face Wukong. Still insufferable… you’d think that Macaque visiting the mountain to help train MK would make one or both of them more tolerable of the other. You’d think.
“Yeah, well… one of us has to do it,” Macaque replied. His expression was thoroughly unamused as he finally turned to face Wukong. The Monkey King was glaring at him, arms crossed. Wukong pretty obviously didn’t like having Macaque on the mountain again. Something in the back of Macaque’s mind sneered at the prospect of causing Wukong an inconvenience and irritation. It was the least he could get after everything Wukong had done to him. Macaque stepped closer to Wukong, clasping his hands behind him and leaning in as his tail swished behind him. He sneered, leaning right up to Wukong’s face as the Monkey King stayed still, expression furious. “It’s alright, bud, I don’t mind helping you teach. Especially since you’ve been having such a tough time doing it on your own.”
“You’re only here because MK thought you’d be able to teach him. For some reason,” Wukong scowled, not moving away from Macaque, though he obviously wasn’t pleased to have the shadow monkey in his face. Or on his mountain, for that matter. Macaque knew Wukong was right. Not to say that Macaque wouldn’t try to visit on the mountain, but rather that Wukong would’ve run him off. He tried not to be too hurt by that. It wasn’t too difficult. This had been their relationship for centuries.
Macaque’s smile didn’t falter as he stepped past Wukong, sauntering toward the hut. He expected Wukong to make a move to stop him, hit him, or maybe both. When he didn’t, Macaque kept walking, swishing his tail behind him. Macaque could tell that Wukong wasn’t following after him, but he did feel Wukong’s gaze on his back.
“Well, you know… the kid is a great judge of character,” Macaque piped, not turning back to look at Wukong. He wasn’t entirely sure if he believed the sentiment himself, at least in regards to him. Judging from Wukong’s scoff, he didn’t think it was very accurate to Macaque either.
“Frankly, MK gives you more trust that you’ve earned,” Wukong spat, starting to finally walk after Macaque. Wukong’s words were cruel, but not incorrect. Rather, it was the accuracy of Wukong’s statement that irked him. Macaque reached the hut, turning to address Wukong again before entering.
“One could say the same about you, Monkey King.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He walked into the house, headed straight to the small kitchen area. The hut-house had been expanded since Macaque had died. Who could really say when it was? …Well… Wukong could, but Macaque didn’t want to bring it up, especially regarding the years he’d spent living on the mountain with Wukong, sharing a home, sharing food, …sharing a bed…
Macaque shook his head to clear the thoughts. It wasn’t really important now anyway. Macaque wondered for a moment where Wukong was. He paused and his ears flicked, listening. Wukong was still standing outside the house. Doing what? Who knows… Who cares, for that matter. Macaque rolled his eyes and opened Wukong’s refrigerator (how did the Monkey King have electricity up here??), seeing what was there.
He looked around the whole kitchen, which didn’t have that much space overall. He found nothing but junk food. Not even fruit, Wukong could go anywhere on the mountain for fruit. Maybe order delivery for any other food or… make it out of hair. Kind of gross, but whatever.
Grabbing a bag of peach chips, Macaque sat on the couch and watched the tv a bit. Was Wukong still outside? …Yes. After a quick listen, it would appear he was. Hm… was this junk food what Wukong was… mainly eating? He’d never really thought about it before. He absentmindedly opened the bag of chips and started eating them, still distracted. Macaque didn’t actually know how Wukong’s body reacted metabolically. He’d exercised a lot when they were younger, whether intentionally for strength or unintentionally while around the mountain. Macaque stared blankly at the tv, mind wandering farther. It was no secret to him that the Monkey King had been very fit in his younger years. Being friends that long, Macaque had seen Wukong in various states of undress. His build had always been muscular, the planes of his body well-defined, but not overly so, muscles subtly visible even when relaxed. There was no room for doubt that Wukong was strong, serving as an anchor whenever Macaque was in contact with him: helping Macaque stand, pulling him into a hug with his arms tightly around him. Wukong’s warmth and strength gave him an effect similar to a weighted blanket when hugging or sleeping.
Overall, Wukong’s body had looked like the image of casual strength, sculpted from stone. Which, of course, could be an actual possibility. The tv finished its current movie and Macaque’s hand reached the bottom of the bag, but he noticed neither. Could Wukong’s body be affected? On the one hand, he was a living creature, but on the other, he was born from a rock. Macaque himself was born from shadow and his body had changed, but that was weight loss caused by the cold centuries he’d spent in Diyu.
What would it be like if Wukong’s build changed? He wasn’t doing as much these days, and if he was eating mostly junk food… gods… what would Wukong look like? It was an unfamiliar image to Macaque. He had gotten very comfortable with the feeling of Wukong’s body on his in the past. A strong chest on his, broad shoulders and firm abs for Macaque to settle his hands over. The image shifted and Wukong changed. Longer hair, a softer stomach… Macaque found himself enticed by the thought of a soft Wukong rather than a sharper one. He was still strong, that much Macaque knew for sure, but the thought was terribly welcoming. Attractive, even. The Wukong in Macaque’s mind shifted, pressing against Macaque, and something giddy in Macaque’s chest flared. Wukong held his hips and leaned down as Macaque pressed one hand against his soft stomach and curled the other in Wukong’s hair. Then, Wukong gently pressed a kiss to the spot where Macaque’s neck met his shoulders and Macaque startled.
Oh gods… no, he can’t be thinking like that. Thoughts like that were very dangerous… even in the past, not because of the physical aspect, but the emotional one. Nothing was said in the mental image, but Macaque was able to feel it in the tenderness with which Imagination Wukong held him. The Wukong in that imagination loved Macaque, something the Real Wukong has never and would never do. Maybe you could say that Wukong used to love Macaque as a friend, but that’s all it ever was. Even when Wukong would press his lips against Macaque’s, even when they began to fall into bed together more nights than not, and even as Macaque fell hopelessly in love with the king, Wukong didn’t return his romantic feelings. Not that he was obligated to–this was one of the few things that Wukong wasn’t at fault for. Their arrangement was only ever agreed to be a platonic one with physical benefits. Macaque was the fool for falling in love with Wukong.
Finally, Wukong walked back into the house. Macaque couldn’t tell if his presence made things better or worse. He wondered what took him so long, but didn’t care to ask. Wukong scowled when he saw Macaque, probably irritated that the shadow monkey was still in his house. Macaque noticed then that Wukong’s hair was a bit wild. What happened out there???
Wukong glanced at the tv and Macaque worried for a moment that Wukong would ask what he was watching. He had absolutely no clue what was playing on the tv, which would be very uncharacteristic of him if he’d actually been paying attention to a single thing.
Luckily, Wukong didn’t ask about it at all, just scoffing at the empty bag of chips in Macaque’s hand. He began walking to his bedroom, taking his scarf off as he did. He was thankfully past Macaque by the time the shadow monkey grew wide-eyed.
Wukong was… Oh my gods, was he undressing?? Okay sure, it was his house and yeah that makes sense to get home after training and change clothes or something, but… Macaque couldn’t believe his– …no, he refused to call it luck. He was not lucky that Wukong was taking his shirt off in front of him. Still… Macaque was now too curious and this horrifyingly poor timing on Wukong’s part had Macaque standing to follow.
Wukong was already in the room and Macaque walked into the doorway, leaning against the frame. Oh… gods– What he saw was Wukong standing by the closet, seemingly holding the shirt he’d been wearing. First, he looked at Wukong’s arms. They weren’t as toned as they had been in the past, but not too visibly soft. Wukong’s stomach, though…
Macaque’s eyes shifted down and he saw Wukong’s stomach. Holy– he was right. Macaque pressed his lips together tightly, trying to make sure his expression didn’t change too much. Wukong no longer had very visible abs, but a just noticeable amount of belly fat, immediately bringing Macaque’s previous imagination to mind. In just a few moments, he looked back up to see Wukong looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Oh. He’d caught Macaque staring.
Macaque cursed internally. Immediately, he threw a smirk onto his face, scrambling for something to say. What left his mouth was a mocking laugh, followed by a similar comment.
“Hah. Put a few pounds on, Monkey King?” He hated the words as soon as they left his mouth. It sounded like he was laughing at Wukong, like he was making fun of how the king’s body had changed. Gods, no, that wasn’t what he’d meant. Macaque had no issue with Wukong’s body, he just didn’t want to admit that he found it–
“Tch. You freeze a few off?” … Macaque stopped moving as his thoughts were interrupted by Wukong saying something. His smile fell immediately. I… okay, sure Macaque had started it, but– … That was just too far. Macaque wasn’t even aware that Wukong had noticed. Still… the audacity to mention it??? Even with Macaque making a comment first, the changes made to Macaque’s body were directly Wukong’s fault. If he hadn’t killed him–
Macaque stayed frozen in the doorway, glaring at the ground. He hadn’t even noticed that Wukong had time to face the closet and toss the shirt to the side, moving a couple other things as well. Now, the king stared at Macaque with a blank expression on his face. If Macaque had seen it, he would’ve called it weird to see on Wukong. The two of them were silent for a few beats longer as something akin to hesitance, like he’d realized a mistake he’d made.
The silence stretched on uncomfortably until Wukong cleared his throat and stepped toward Macaque. He was scowling and reached out a hand as if to place it on Macaque’s shoulder to shove him.
“Listen, bud, if you’re not doing anything else, why don’t you–”
Hm. Maybe he was going to tell Macaque to leave. Probably was. It didn’t really matter because Wukong’s sentence was cut short. Macaque’s hand shot up and grabbed Wukong’s wrist. The king blinked in surprise immediately trying to pull his hand back. Macaque held tightly, not letting Wukong pull away. Wukong could technically get away if he tried harder, but he was too surprised at first.
“No. You don’t get to say that and then just brush it off.” Macaque stepped toward Wukong in slow, deliberate strides. Wukong moved backward as well, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, okay, maybe I was an asshole for saying that, but that doesn’t– …It’s your fault! It’s your fault I’m like this because you killed me!!”
Silence. Macaque glared at Wukong. Neither of them spoke. Then, Wukong’s mouth slowly morphed into a cruel smile and Macaque felt his heart drop. In an instant, Macaque knew that he wouldn’t like whatever Wukong was about to say.
“My fault? Hah. I didn’t do anything you didn’t deserve, Macaque.” Wukong spat the words, pulling his arm closer to his chest. Macaque was still gripping Wukong’s wrist and got taken off guard, stumbling forward. He stuck a hand forward, stopping his momentum with a hand on Wukong’s chest. Macaque almost became flustered, but Wukong’s words were ringing in his ears. He opened his mouth to say something but then he felt Wukong’s hand on his hip.
Macaque… didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to feel. Wukong… was holding Macaque’s hip. They were pressed against each other and Macaque’s hand was on Wukong’s chest, but– Wukong just– Macaque felt his heart break again even as anger bubbled up in his chest. He wanted to push Wukong away; yell at him, punch him, wrap his hands around the king’s neck. Macaque wanted Wukong to take it back. But… he also wanted to stay closer to him. Wukong was warm and Macaque had to resist the urge to press his hand down against Wukong’s chest. He wanted to lean into Wukong; hug him, be held by him, melt into the king’s arms. Macaque wanted Wukong to take it back.
“Gods, don’t tell me you’re getting distracted right now~” Wukong sneered. Macaque flushed, glaring at Wukong. In one movement, then, he moved, letting go of Wukong’s wrist to shove his shoulders, pushing the king back. Opening a shadow portal behind Wukong, Macaque pushed him in and followed suit, landing both of them onto Wukong’s bed. Wukong was pushed onto his back, eyes wide, with Macaque straddling him and pressing down on his shoulders.
“You are… a sick bastard, Wukong.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite Wukong’s sharp comment, he obviously did not expect Macaque to do something like this. The king opened his mouth, probably to say something, but Macaque leaned down and kissed him. Macaque kept Wukong pressed into the bed, humming into the kiss. He kind of expected the Monkey King to push him away, but Wukong just laughed into the kiss, resting his hands around Macaque’s wrists. When Macaque pulled back, he moved one hand to hold Wukong’s face.
“Just. Shut. Up.” Wukong didn’t respond, following the order, but he still smiled at Macaque as if the shadow monkey had said something funny. Macaque kissed him again and Wukong’s hands moved lower to hold Macaque’s hips. Macaque shifted, removing his hand to kiss down the king’s jaw. Upon reaching his neck, Macaque paused to speak again, words ghosting against Wukong’s skin. “Deserve? .. You killed me, Wukong.” Macaque’s voice was still low, angry, and the words felt foul on his lips. Best not to think about that, though, as he was already fighting the thoughts of Wukong’s mouth against his own.
“What can I say? You forced my hand,” Wukong responded coolly, seemingly unbothered. Macaque scowled against Wukong’s neck, even as the soft curls brushed against his face, filling his senses with the smell of fresh earth and faint fruit. This was the closest, the most intimate, that Macaque had been with Wukong in a long time. It was also possibly the most in-depth they’d ever gotten during spats about their past. Part of Macaque wanted to sob.
“Forced your hand? Attacking, even glancing at, those precious little Pilgrim friends of yours is a crime worthy of death now? Did your Master approve of that?” Macaque’s nails dug into the king’s shoulder as he spoke, but Wukong gave no reaction. Macaque was trembling slightly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. When he attacked the Pilgrims… he didn’t want to actually kill them. Yeah, he was angry, wanted to fight them, but mostly he just… wanted to see Wukong. He wanted to convince Wukong to come back, if only for a bit. Instead…
“Master prioritized his beliefs. It fell on me to do what was necessary.” Wukong’s words twisted the knife and Macaque pushed up to glare directly at Wukong. His vision was blurred with the tears now starting to spill over. How… how could he?? How–
“Necessary? Nece– I loved you, Wukong! You knew I loved you! I–” Macaque’s words faded out as more tears spilled out. Macaque could barely see the details of Wukong’s face through the tears. He couldn’t read the expression on the king’s face, even when Wukong took hold of his scarf and pulled him back down.
“And whose fault is that?”
Macaque tried to look at Wukong through the tears, but it didn’t work. He was left just leaning over Wukong and crying. It was his fault, wasn’t it. It was actually Macaque’s fault. The two of them had just been friends and then Macaque had taken it further. He thought it’d be fun as a one-time thing, but that “one-night thing” turned into a friends with benefits arrangement. …And then he fell for Wukong. Macaque scowled through his crying and kissed Wukong again. This was stupid, it was all stupid, but MAcaque was sick of the argument and it hurt and it just–
He melted into the kiss this time, letting himself focus on the way Wukong’s mouth slotted against his. Macaque let his fingers drift down Wukong’s chest as the crying slowed to a stop. Pulling away for only a moment before moving back in, Macaque’s tail swishing behind him, his fingers landed on Wukong’s stomach. He pressed his fingers into the warm softness and wanted to sob. Wukong’s hands found Macaque’s hips briefly before one shifted to his back, pulling Macaque tighter against Wukong’s body. The warmth was overwhelming and Macaque couldn’t stand it anymore.
He sat back and began to desperately take his shirt off, tossing his scarf onto the bed next to Wukong. The king was looking up at Macaque and watching him. His expression was still amused, but now laced with an underlying hunger. It made Macaque angry. How dare Wukong… how dare he still… want Macaque after everything he’s done. And yet… when Wukong’s fingers drifted down Macaque’s stomach to tug at the waist of his pants, he couldn’t deny the warmth that grew between his legs. Macaque kissed Wukong’s neck, drawing a soft sigh from the king’s lips. Macaque hated it. Macaque hated him.
He decided to move back to take off Wukong’s pants and his own. He was getting impatient, wanted to hurry and get Wukong inside him so he could stop thinking. He wanted to move forward before he could remember why this was a horrible idea. When Macaque’s pants were finally off, he felt his core exposed to the air and became all too aware of how wet he already was. It would’ve made him feel pathetic if not for the fact that Wukong was already hard.
Wow. Macaque sat back down on Wukong’s stomach again. He should stop, back away right now before he goes through with it and regrets it. He knew he was going to regret this… that’s when Wukong reached between them, running his finger slowly through Macaque’s folds before circling his clit. Macaque drew in a sharp breath, breaking the kiss. He felt Wukong’s fingers move again, the tip of his index finger dipping into Macaque’s entrance. Wukong’s fingers were warm and Macaque had to fight down the urge to beg Wukong. The king smirked as his finger slowly pushed in, small, gentle movements that made Macaque shiver.
“Aw… so wet for me already?” Wukong asked, tone teasing. In the past, Macaque would’ve gotten flustered. The question would have been lighthearted and Wukong would have laughed lightly before kissing Macaque again. But Macaque was not so deluded to think that this was anything similar.
“I hate you.” Macaque spat the words, forcing himself the sit up. He leaned back, putting his arms behind him on Wukong’s legs to prop him up. Wukong’s finger was still inside him and he whined when Wukong pumped it inside lazily. Wukong laughed, putting his other hand on Macaque’s hip and gently shifting him into an angle where Wukong could press in further.
“Oh, the feeling is mutual. I think I could get a bit of stress out, though, don’t you? Haven’t had any good toys recently. You wouldn’t mind, right?” Wukong wasn’t serious but Macaque scoffed anyway. Stress relief, huh? He wouldn’t hold that against Wukong, he guessed, but only because his own intentions weren’t much different. As for the other question… Macaque didn’t want to think to long about the idea of being Wukong’s toy. He huffed as Wukong’s finger moved inside him again and he felt himself clench around it. Macaque had a sudden thought shifting the situation. The thought of Wukong’s fingers moving inside him, stretching Macaque out after centuries of unuse. Preparing his toy, getting it ready so he can use it, fucking into it for his own pleasure. Macaque felt himself get wetter around Wukong’s fingers and an embarrassed blush rushed to his face. Gods, he hated himself too.
“...asshole.” Macaque looked away, not being able to meet Wukong’s eyes. This got another laugh from Wukong. The king smirked up at him, adding a second finger and curling them inside. Macaque groaned and threw his head back. Wukong’s fingers kept moving inside him and Macaque bit his lip to try and stop the moans leaving his mouth. He didn’t want to give Wukong the satisfaction, especially over just the king’s fingers. It was really no use, though. Wukong’s fingers felt so good inside him and Macaque couldn’t help the sounds that fell from his lips as he was drawn closer and closer to the edge, and–
“Stop–” Macaque managed to gasp the word out and Wukong stopped immediately, pulling his hand back. Macaque shifted to back down on Wukong’s stomach. A thread of shame shot through him at the thought that he was getting Wukong’s stomach wet. Gods, that was– ugh. He took deep breaths, closing his eyes and focusing on the feel of his heart pounding in his chest.
“...Maca–,” Wukong started, but Macaque leaned down and kissed him again. He’d seen a flash of Wukong’s expression and he was already delusional enough to think it was something like concern. So no, he didn’t want to hear whatever it was that Wukong had to say. Macaque was alright, he didn’t want to stop completely, he just– … he didn’t want to finish like that. He wasn’t ready and he knew it wouldn’t be enough, and just… One more small kiss before MAcaque pulled back, panting, and whispered in Wukong’s ear.
“I want your cock inside me, but I’m fucking suck of your voice. Shut your mouth and be good, alright?” Wukong didn’t say anything, but Macaque could hear his heart rate rise. Macaque took Wukong’s wrists and pinned them above his head, kissing him again. Wukong moaned lightly against Macaque’s mouth as he summoned some shadows, binding Wukong’s wrists to the bed. Gods, Macaque hadn’t even been telling the truth. He loved hearing Wukong’s voice when they fell into bed together. The way Wukong would praise him, tell him how good he was being, how good he felt. But that was before and this was now. Macaque couldn’t take any chances, couldn’t give Wukong the chance to strike while he was vulnerable.
Macaque paused for a moment, thinking. The exchange he’d had with Wukong earlier bubbled back up in his mind and he suddenly felt… a bit self conscious. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He heard Wukong open his mouth to say something, but Macaque opened his eyes and grabbed the discarded scarf. He began wrapping it over Wukong’s eyes, functioning as a blindfold.
“??? Macaque? Wh–” Macaque stopped Wukong, gently covering the king’s mouth with one hand.
“Sshh… quiet, remember?” Macaque leaned down, whispering the words in Wukong’s ear. Wukong shivered beneath him, heartbeat fast. Macaque sat back to get a good look at the scene now. Wukong beneath him, blindfolded and wrists bound. Macaque couldn’t help the hand that drifted down and pressed into the king’s soft stomach. He heard Wukong’s breath hitch at the contact and rushed forward to kiss him one more time. One last time before he stopped waiting. Gods, his mind was racing and feeling Wukong’s warmth beneath was too much. Too much. Not enough. Not enough, he needed to feel the warmth inside him.
Macaque pushed up, lifting himself to line up above the king’s cock. Taking a deep breath, he began to sink down, stretching to take Wukong. Wukong breathed heavily as Macaque lowered inch by inch, struggling slightly against the shadows that held his wrists. There was little resistance as Macaque took him further, felt him deeper, until he was fully seated back onto Wukong’s hips. He sighed at the feeling of Wukong under him, inside him…
“Wukong…” Macaque whispered the king’s name, shifting. Wukong’s hands clenched and relaxed, seemingly trying to ground himself. Macaque smirked, though Wukong couldn't see. He felt oddly powerful like this. He was in control here, Wukong bound beneath him and available for him to have any way he wanted. …almost any way he wanted… Before he could think about that too much, Macaque began to lift off of Wukong. He shut his eyes and moved slowly, pausing when the tip of the king’s cock was almost out. Macaque spent a moment to listen to Wukong’s heartbeat. It was strong and steady, but beat so fast that it seemed like it would escape his chest at any moment. Macaque’s smile grew and he took a deep breath before spreading his legs wider and letting himself fall back down.
Their moans mixed together, Macaque throwing his head back. Gods, it felt good… He began grinding on Wukong again, then moving. Macaque closed his eyes focusing on the sensation. His chest still ached, but he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he rode Wukong.
He tuned out Wukong’s sounds, thinking only about the warmth of Wukong entering him over and over. Macaque shifted until a certain angle made him gasp. Fuck… yes–
Looking down again, Wukong’s mouth was open, tongue almost out of his mouth as he panted, tensing under Macaque. The shadow monkey laughed, drifting a hand down Wukong’s chest again. Wukong’s breath caught when Macaque’s hand reached his stomach and gently squeezed the flesh. Macaque leaned down, laying over Wukong as he continued moving his hips. At this angle, there was stimulation against his clit with every wet movement. He gently cradled Wukong’s head, kissing the king’s jaw, the argument from earlier gone from his mind.
“Fuck, you’re so hot… hah, you feel so good,” Macaque whispered. Wukong groaned and Macaque felt the king try to free his hands again. Macaque hummed and kept moving, letting moans fall from his lips directly into Wukong’s ear. He could’ve almost sworn he felt himself get wetter as his mind drifted. Moving faster, Macaque felt himself getting close. From the sound of the king’s breathing, Wukong was getting close too.
Macaque laughed against Wukong’s skin, getting an idea. Shifting, he began to move a bit faster and pressed a long kiss to Wukong’s neck. He bit the skin lightly, sucking a mark onto his neck. Wukong groaned loudly and Macaque knew he’d won.
Wukong whined and Macaque gasped when he felt Wukong finish inside. Macaque tried to keep moving, but he finished right after, and could only grind down on the king. Gods… Wukong’s cum was so warm… Macaque melted against Wukong, feeling some of the king’s spend leak out of him. The shadows binding Wukong’s wrists disappeared and he quickly pulled off the blindfold before letting his arms collapse onto the bed. The two lay together, breathing heavily as they rest a bit.
Macaque took a long breath and left his eyes drift closed, but then Wukong moved beneath him. The king put his hands on Macaque’s hips and moved to flip the two. Macaque’s eyes flew open and he gripped wukong’s arms for stability. He whined when Wukong shifted, feeling Wukong still inside him. The king hooks his hands under Macaque’s knees and lifted them, pressing the shadow’s knees to his chest. Wukong kissed him, holding it and making Macaque’s head spin.
“If you’re done having your fun… I’ll be having my turn,” Wukong said. Macaque was a bit stunned and stared at Wukong. Gods… gods, this was such a bad idea. When Wukong sat up, he looked down at Macaque with an expression Macaque couldn’t place. It looked almost like disdain. “Well?”
Macaque was almost lost for words. What was Wukong waiting for? … Oh… oh, haha, uh… Macaque swallowed nervously and nodded, spreading his legs slightly. Taking the opportunity, Wukong leaned forward to fill the now empty space, pushing deeper into Macaque. He whined as the king kissed him, starting to move inside him again.
It felt different when Wukong was the one in control, when Macaque could just melt back into the bed, closing his eyes while Wukong took over. Something inside him was screaming, calling him idiotic for relinquishing this much control to Wukong and trusting him like this with his body. At least when Macaque was riding him, he retained some control of the situation. As Wukong moved faster, though, lifting Macaque’s hips to reach deeper into him, Macaque decided that he didn’t really want to be in control. He missed being able to trust Wukong, missed feeling safe in the king’s arms.
Macaque knew Wukong didn’t love him. The king was just using Macaque for his own pleasure right now. He didn’t care about Macaque. That didn’t matter, though. Macaque loves Wukong and he always will, no matter how much he despises himself for it. And he will always trust Wukong, no matter how much he denies it. No matter how many times he gets burned.