A kiss for good luck {shadowpeach}

Part 8: Checkmate

Wukong darted across the room, tossing furniture as he went. Macaque was hot on his trail, but always a few steps behind. Typical. He had to slow more than once to avoid a stray object flying for his head, or to change his trajectory when Wukong bounced off yet another wall.

They fell into a sort of rhythm that lasted for what felt like ages. It was only when Macaque felt himself becoming winded, with Wukong obviously miles away from that threshold, that he had to admit he had no chance at catching the elusive monkey without the aid of his shadows. At least not by conventional means.

The other wasn't even using his powers and managed to stay on top. If Macaque didn't know any better, he'd say Wukong was almost enjoying himself.

He could already feel a plan forming in his head, albeit a risky one. Then again, 'high risk, high reward' was a saying for a reason. So the next time Wukong ran towards a wall, intent on bouncing off and gaining yet another few inches of space between them, Macaque ran right after him. But he didn't slow down like he'd done before. Instead, he braced himself for impact and let his body collide with the wooden planks.

He couldn't help but let out a muffled yelp as pain bloomed across his forehead. His muscles, already sore from his earlier altercation, screamed in protest. Despite this, he did nothing to catch himself, and fell to the floor with a thump like a puppet with severed strings.

Somewhere behind him, Wukong landed almost soundlessly. There was silence for a few moments, before the king burst into laughter. Macaque could just picture him doubling over, shoulders shaking as he clutched his stomach. He stayed where he was, unmoving.

After a while the laughter stopped. He could hear the shifting of fabric, and a huff.

"C'mon, get up. Don't tell me you're giving up already."

Macaque did not, in fact, get up.

More shifting. A nervous laugh.

"Hey. I know that was pretty embarrassing, but I thought you were above throwing temper tantrums over - how did you put it? - petty inconveniences."

There was silence. Macaque remained still.

"Macaque?"

Then, finally, there were hesitant footsteps coming his way.

A shadow fell over him, the other blocking off what little moonlight illuminated the space. Macaque fought hard not to tense as the shadow leaned down, reaching a careful hand towards him.

A second, two, and when Wukong was so very near, barely an inch from grazing his back, Macaque whirled around, grabbed that hand, and jumped to his feet.

Caught off guard, Wukong did nothing to stop him as Macaque threw him over his shoulder. He tried to shift in the air, but Macaque, who had anticipated this, grabbed him by the leg. Unable to land on his feet, Wukong hit the ground with the back of his head. Although he didn't land with full force, Macaque having reduced some of the impact by holding his leg aloft. An agitated Wukong was still better than a concussed one, after all.

He was panting heavily, his body shaking from the sudden movement. Wukong was breathing hard as well, air presumably knocked out of him by the impact. It didn't take him long to find his bearings though, and soon he skewered Macaque with a truly impressive, if slightly playful glare. His golden eyes were glinting in the moonlight, just like Macaque so vividly remembered.

"Really Mac? Resorting to dirty tricks already?" He cracked a half smile. "Why aren't you using your shadows instead? You know you don't have to go easy on me."

The comment startled Macaque out of whatever daze he'd been in. Did he just-?

"Don't call me that!" His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into Wukong's calf.

Wukong yelped, and that sound alone turned Macaque's anger from fire to a frozen landscape. He loosened his hold, if only slightly.

"And I'm not going easy on you. I just..." he trailed off, glancing at his shoulders which were still sparkling with residue.

Wukong's eyes lit up with understanding, and Macaque cursed him once again for being so damn perceptive.

"Oh, so that's what that was." Wukong regarded him for a moment, his eyes roaming all over his face, as if searching for something. His gaze slipped somewhere behind Macaque's head before returning to stare him right in the eyes.

"Too bad for you, then."

Macaque had no time at all to question any of that, before Wukong's other foot sprung right for his face. It was a sloppy, lame kick which Macaque avoided easily by tilting his head to the side. Then he heard a soft click, and realized with a start it wasn't his head he'd been aiming for at all.

Suddenly, hard light lit up the space. Macaque hissed in pain, hands flying to his eyes to shield them. What were the chances of Macaque standing right in front of a lightswitch? What were the chances of stupid Wukong noticing, and having just enough range in his movement to flick it on?

Then again, today especially, chances seemed to be against him.

And then, because of course it'd get worse, Macaque heard a snicker. A snicker coming from the other side of the room.

His hands, raised above his head, twitched. Empty.

Abruptly, they snapped downwards, allowing him to see again. To see Wukong, leaning on the wall opposite him, just like after he first arrived. Arms crossed, with a smirk stretching across his face. And his eyes...

The harsh lighting brought out their coppery undertones, and the flakes of pure gold betraying the truth. Like the past those eyes were gone. Macaque knew these ones were red.

One doesn't simply forget the sight of two ruby meteorites, raining upon them to bring death and destruction. The last vision before cold, cold darkness swallows them whole. Macaque certainly didn't, and wouldn't, not now and not ever.

He gripped the leather strap running across his chest to ground himself. The image before him was distorting, flashes of a battlefield, and flowering canopies, and whispers of sights yet to come.

Everything was like it's always been. Nothing would ever be the same.

They were back at square one, and Macaque... Macaque couldn't do all of that again.

"Fine!" He snapped, his gaze resolutely burning holes into the floor. "Fine, I'll give you your stupid kiss. Or was that a one time offer as well?"

Wukong seemed to flounder for a moment. Clearly not expecting it.

Really? Macaque wondered distantly. Why make a demand, if you think it'll never be fulfilled in the first place?

Then, he seemed to grow impossibly brighter, and skipped across the room, stopping before Macaque. He even closed his eyes, waiting expectantly.

What a fool. It'd be so easy, to stab him with his nails. To gouge out those false eyes, and watch them grow anew, crimson and unglamoured. To do any number of horrid things, beyond even Macaque's wildest imagination.

If only he had it in himself to fight anymore.

Instead, he took a breath, steeled himself, and leaned down to place a featherlight kiss on Wukong's forehead.

His lips were met with familiar heat, fuzzy hair tickling his nose. The unnatural temperature that clung to Wukong ever since his capture in heaven thawed something frozen inside of Macaque, leaving him shuddering.

He took a step back, quenching the urge to press closer. He'd already been burned once; up in flames like a pyre before he ever realized he caught flame. Now he was but a charred, darkened shell of what he used to be. Let him not make the same mistake again.

Wukong made a soft, agitated sound, and leaned forward before he caught himself. His eyes opened once more, quizzical, before narrowing. He huffed, lips forming a pout, as he crossed his arms.

"No faair," he whined. "You promised."

A/N: Nearing the end now! And yet Wukong remains smoochless. Poor guy. ;)