Macaque was expecting his meditation place thing to greet him in silence and comforting peace.
He would take off his outer flowy coat, loosen up his belt, take off his armors and then get comfortable in the long couch to get back to work.
He was expecting peace, damn it. What he wasn't expecting was a four feet tall shitty ginger occupying his favourite couch.
Sun wukong, "the great sage", was spread over his couch, his own armors hung up on the headrest, his shirt unbuttoned a quarter way, his shoes lying messily on the floor, and his eyes firmly shut.
The bastard was actually asleep.
Macaque walked over to him and poked him in the stomach, "wukong, wake up. What the hell are you doing here? You know you can't just waltz in here anymore, right?"
The ginger's eyes opened almost immediately; he was a light sleeper after all. He mumbled, bleary-eyed, "I made you coffee."
The younger one turned to look at his table, and sure enough there was a cup of coffee on top of it.
When he went to actually examine said cup of coffee, he could tell that the coffee was still somewhat warm.
He took a sip and made a face; it was unbelievably salty. His idiot had put in salt instead of sugar.
Macaque sighed as he walked back over to the sage on couch, "How long have you been here?"
Wukong blinked, "Half an hour maybe? I don't know."
Macaqye sat down on the floor next to the couch, so his face was on the same level as wukong's body. He checked the other's forehead for fever, "You're hot."
His husband managed a grin, "I know, mac"
Macaque snorted as he started loosening his belt (again) and taking off his cape, "Idiot, you're sick. Bad day?"
Wukong tried to shrug, "I guess. It rained for a few hours or so, I was too tired to get shelter."
Macaque frowned, "You were drenched for hours. Of course you're sick."
Wukong hummed, "I've been sick."
Macaque sighed, "Sick or depressed, shithead?"
Wukong, of course, tried to grin, "Both."
Macaque pressed a kiss to the other's hair, "Could've told me." He wasn't trying to make wukong tell him every time he got a depressive episode.
He just wanted him to know that it was an option. Of course, it was a given, considering they were married and all.
But wukong had never had it easy with opening about his feelings and stuff, even to the people he cared about. His partner had always known that, though.
Wukong tilted his face to breathe a bit more freely, "I didn't want to bother you."
Macaque groaned, "Asshole, you could never bother me. You're okay with messing up my cape collection and trying to burn down our kitchen four days a week, but you don't want to tell me shit like this?! I hope you know that you messing up my capes, which I spend hours arranging, by the way, is actually bothersome, right? This is not."
Wukong finally managed to crack a grin. A minute later, he was on his back, laughing loudly, choking with the sound of it.
Macaque couldn't help but join in too. At least he'd laughed. That clearly meant he was feeling better.
Macaque leaned forward to kiss his husband, "Feel a little better?"
Wukong brought up his hand to rake his fingers through Macaque's jet black hair, "Yeah. Mango~ Let's eat ice cream!"
Macaque glared at him instantly, "Bastard, you're running a fever. I'll be damned if I feed you ice cream?"
His husband whined, "But mac! It's not a real fever or anything! It's just stress fever."
The taller one started standing up from the floor, "Does it look I care? It's still fever."
Wukong tried his hand at persuasion once again, "But mac! You probably haven't used our ice machine in ages! It will stop working if you don't use it once in a while, you know~"
Macaqye groaned, "Are you stupid or something? The ice machine makes shaved ice, not ice cream, idiot. And let it go; you're not getting ice today. Have you eaten something today?"
The ginger pouted, "But- Ugh. Fine. No, I have not eaten."
Macaque pulled the other off his couch, "Get up. I'm taking you home. I'll feed you noodle soup and get you some medicine, and then you can either watch a movie, or go to sleep."
Wukong let himself be redressed, "Okay then."
For the next few minutes, macaqye dragged his shitty, lanky husband down to the parking lot and to his car.
Wukong refused to walk properly, so he ended up giving him a piggyback ride.
Fortunately, everybody else had either already gone home or they were shut in their own rooms. Nobody could see macaque in that embarrassing situation.
On their way home, macaque parked his car near a crepe shop. Wukong, who had fallen asleep in the passenger's seat, woke up as soon as Macaque hit the breaks. He mumbled, "Are we home?"
Macaque couldn't help but look at him fondly. Why was he so fucking whipped for a bastard like him?! Macaque figured he'd never know. But he didn't really have any complaints. Everything was great the way it was.
He unlocked the car door, "Stay here. I'll go and get some crepes to-go."
Wukong mumbled an 'okay' before promptly falling asleep again. But he understood what his husband was trying to do.
Wukong never really made demands to eat anything. Except peach; peach was a staple for him.
Since he fussed about ice earlier and macaqye denied him the privilege, the shadow dude would make sure that he got something else sweet in exchange; something that wouldn't aggravate his sickness.
Macaque was a softie, no doubts about it.
The shadow dude was back with a box of crepes within five minutes, and the two of them were home soon enough.
Macaque once again carried a sleeping wukong up to their house, this time in a princess carry or whatever you call it.
He had to put wukong on the couch in their living room and go back to his car to get the crepes and his other stuff, but it was fine.
He got wukong out of his clothes and into a far more comfortable outfit before depositing him back on the couch and going to shower and change into a new set of more comfortable clothes himself.
Once that was done, macaque was more than happy to go to the kitchen and start working on making soup. Of course, wukong was still asleep.
Half an hour later, macaque put two bowls of soup on the table in front of the TV and woke his husband up, "peach, wake up."
The other, of course, roused immediately, "This feels like deja vu."
Macaque laughed as he moved the other a little aside so he could sit on the couch too, "Yeah, well. Anyway, dinner is ready."
Wukong sat up and promptly draped his arms around his partner. He mumbled, "Soup. Smells good."
Macaque sighed as he slipped an arm around the other's wait and rubbed his sides, "Want me to feed you?"
Wukong just buried his face in his partner's shoulder, "No, that's okay. I'll eat in a bit."
Macaque reminded gently as he started eating himself, "It's going to get cold soon."
The ginger just mumbled incoherently before shutting up.
A few minutes later, he finally untangled himself from his partner and got to his soup.
Macaque had put effort into making a soup he would like; he didn't want his effort to go to waste by letting it to cold.
He puts on a movie to watch while they were eating; some movie called the adam project, which macaque heard was supposed to be good.
Once they were done eating, macaque brought out the crepes for dessert, which was fun to eat. Wukong lay back down on the couch right after.
Macaque brought some medicine for the other once he'd cleared up everything, "There. Take one."
Wukong looked up, "Do I have to?"
Macaque hummed as he took a seat on the couch, placing the other's feet on his lap, "You'll feel better."
He grinned as he saw his husband oblige, "There you go. Do you want to finish the movie or do you want to go sleep?"
The older of them looked at the tv and muttered, "Well that's stupid. What's the point of watching a movie if you know what's going to happen."
Macaque laughed, "Just for funsies." He then blushed at his choice of words, and added wisely, "Because it's the process that matters; not the end result."
The ginger man burst out laughing, albeit lazily, "Funsies. You are so fucking cute."
Macaqye rolled his eyes, "I am not cute, what the fuck. I'm a demon. I'm scary, damn it."
Wukong whispered tiredly, "Yet you help old women carry their things and cross the streets."
The shadow dude flushed furiously, "That was one time!!"
The other pointed out, "You treated Bai he to ramen one day."
Macaque growled, "That was her idea! She wanted to thank me for saving her! And I'm not going to let a kid pay for my food, damn it."
That just made his husband laugh harder, "Exactly my point. You're a soft, squishy person. You once walked past a stray cart in a parking lot and put it aside. You said and I quote 'What the fuck, I obviously have to push it aside so cars can move freely. I'm not an animal.'"
Macaque threw up his hands in protest, "Because! What kind of animal leaves a stray shopping cart in the parking lot?! And what the fuck is a squish person?!"
Wukong raised his hand and poked the other's cheeks before bopping him on the nose. He mumbled tiredly, "Squish."
Macaque blinked, taken aback. But he ended up a laughing and then bent down to kiss the other's head, "You are such a dork. I love you so much."
Wukong almost purred like a cat, "I love you too."
The dude stood up, "Yeah, yeah. Let's get you to bed. You look ready to pass out."
Wukong remained silent spare a few unintelligible sounds as macaqye carried him off to their bed.
Two minutes later, all the lights had been turned off, their sleep playlist was playing on the music system, and both of them were comfortably settled in their bed.
Wukong mumbled one last time before passing out for the night, "Night, hubby of mine."
Macaqye just softly whispered right back, "Night, peach."