Chapter Text
It was peaceful, unusually so, in the small clearing nestled within the dense forest. The mist from the early morning clung to the trees like a delicate veil, and the air was crisp, almost damp from the night's cool embrace. You stirred under the thin blanket, the cold biting at your exposed skin. But it wasn’t the cold that kept you anchored, it was the warmth beside you.
Sun Wukong.
The legendary Monkey King, feared by gods and demons alike, was lying beside you, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as if you were the one thing tethering him to the world. His tail had wound itself around your leg, a possessive gesture, gently squeezing as he slept soundly beside you.
Wukong's presence was an odd mixture of fierceness and tranquility. His wild nature, sharp and unpredictable, was the source of many stories of his battles and conquests, but here, with you, he was something else entirely. He was... soft. There was no better way to describe it. As much as his strength and power radiated from him in every waking moment, when he was like this, just a simian resting in the early hours, it was hard to see him as the same untamed force of nature.
Your fingers traced lazy circles over the fur on his chest, which rose and fell in steady rhythm with his breath. It was strange how such a simple touch could bring comfort, not just to him, but to you as well. His fur, so soft beneath your fingers, felt like silk against your skin. You often found yourself wondering how such a wild being could feel so gentle, but then again, Wukong was full of contradictions.
You glanced at his face, still relaxed in sleep, his usual mischievous grin nowhere to be found. His features, though still simian, had an unmistakable beauty to them. His coarse fur thinned around his face, framing it in a way that almost made him appear regal, though you’d never dare tell him that. His charcoal-black eyes, so often filled with mischief and fire, were closed now, offering you a rare moment to admire him without the teasing that usually followed.
Sun Wukong was a creature of habit, and even in sleep, his grip on you was firm. You tried to shift a little, hoping to avoid waking him, but the moment you moved, his tail tightened around your leg, and his arm pulled you back against his chest. A soft grunt escaped him, followed by a low, content hum as he nuzzled into your hair, his breath warm against your neck.
"Don’t go," he muttered, voice rough with sleep, but there was a softness to it, a vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat.
"I wasn’t going anywhere," you whispered back, though you doubted he could hear you in his half-asleep state. Still, the Monkey King’s hold on you didn’t loosen.
The weight of his arm draped over your waist was comforting, though you knew full well that if you needed to get up, it would take a considerable amount of effort. Wukong had a habit of clinging to you when he slept, his tail, in particular, proving nearly impossible to escape from. You’d tried once before in the dead of night, only to find that no amount of prying could loosen the furry appendage from your leg. After several failed attempts and a lot of frustration, you had resigned yourself to a life of being Sun Wukong’s personal body pillow.
"You're warm," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep. He shifted slightly, his head resting on top of yours, his nose buried in your hair as he inhaled deeply. "Smell like peaches..."
You chuckled softly, the sound barely breaking the silence of the early morning. "I don’t know how you always associate me with peaches."
"It’s because you’re my peach," he replied, his lips quirking into a lazy smile. He opened one eye to peer down at you, his gaze soft but still carrying that familiar glint of mischief. "My soft, sweet peach."
You rolled your eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind the gesture. "If I’m your peach, then you’re my... overgrown monkey."
He snorted, the sound low and amused. "I’ll take that as a compliment."
Wukong’s hand, calloused and rough from centuries of wielding his staff and training, slid up from your waist to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a far cry from the fierce warrior you knew him to be. He stroked your hair absentmindedly, the motion lulling you back into a comfortable drowsiness. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, it all felt so… peaceful.
"Stay a little longer," he whispered, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "Just a little longer."
It wasn’t often that Sun Wukong asked for anything. He was a king, after all, a creature of strength and pride. But when it came to you, he seemed to shed those titles, becoming something more raw, more honest. The playful bravado that usually colored his words faded in moments like these, replaced by something softer, something real.
"Alright," you murmured, pressing your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "Just a little longer."
You doubted either of you could stay like this forever—there were always battles to fight, places to go, mischief to be had. But for now, in this small clearing, with the sun just beginning to rise and the world still asleep, it was enough. Here, in his arms, you were safe. Here, with him, you were home.
And as Wukong’s tail tightened its hold around your leg and his breathing grew slow and even once more, you knew that, for just a little while, the world could wait.