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The peak of summer was always the most taxing for the band of pilgrims. With the amount of traveling they did and the scoarching heat of the sun, the monks had to take frequent stops to avoid dehydration or heatstroke.
During this particular day, the group found an open field to lounge in as Sha Wujing left to collect water. Zhu Bajie fell asleep on a soft patch of grass, and Bai Long Ma took the time to graze freely and stretch his sore legs.
Sun Wukong laid flat on his back, arms stretched over his head and eyes pressed shut as he drank in the warm sun. Beside him, Sanzang lounged, perched on one elbow and leaned slightly over Wukong as he gazed down at his resting disciple and traced the patterns that danced across the monkey’s rugged face.
Wukong didn't mind the gentle fingers that ran across his cheeks and under his eyes, exploring every scar and crevice that made his face his own. Every so often, he would hear a hum from the monk, either one of questioning or one of pleasure, and he would sometimes venture up and brush his hands though the thick, untamed locks atop Wukong’s head.
Sanzang wasn’t really a physical man. Wukong knew this— being a very physical being himself— and respected the monk’s discomfort for prolonged and intimate touches. But every so often (and seemingly more and more frequent) the Tang Monk would gently touch and caress his eldest disciple. It started off with the monkey’s arm, clinging to it during overwhelming situations. Then he would clasp his soft hand in Wukong’s much rougher one, and would bring it up to his face to marvel at the scars that littered his fingers and the fur that bristled on top of his hand.
Wukong didn't mind (in fact, he enjoyed the moments of affection between the two).
But this time Tang Sanzang took the moment of peace to explore Wukong’s face up close.
As the monk’s fingers danced across Wukong’s chin, he continued to keep his eyes squeezed shut in fear that if he were to open them, their moment would be broken and Sanzang would pull away.
He didn’t want Sanzang to pull away.
So, he lied completely still, arms above his head, and allowed his master to drag his open palm from his chin to his fur covered neck.
He couldn’t help but to shiver at the touch.
The monk suddenly let out a soft and genuine laugh, and Wukong could feel his cheeks turn red and his heart beat just a bit faster than before. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
Above him, Tang Sanzang rested his head against his free hand and looked down at the Great Sage with a warm smile. His viramit hat had been discarded, but the cloth he used to cover his bald head was still on, protecting his sensitive skin from the sun. His other hand was just under Wukong’s chin and his fingers brushed lightly against the dusty gold fur that sparsely covered his neck.
“What are you laughing for, Master?” Wukong asked (a little breathless from the sight before him).
Sanzang continued to giggle softly and started tracing small loops and patterns against the Sage’s neck.
“I just thought it was funny how jittery you get when I touch you.” He said with a light hum.
Wukong’s face grew hotter.
“Well, that’s because you’re so intimate when you do that.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Sanzang’s smile fell slightly and his hand retracted.
“No.” Wukong replied (much faster than he should have).
He snapped his mouth shut before anything embarrassing slipped out and stared up at the monk to gauge his reaction.
Sanzang didn’t react for a few seconds, but then his body relaxed again and that beautiful, lazy smile grew back on his face. His soft hand returned under Wukong’s chin and his thumb rubbed his jawline gently.
Wukong thought he was going to die right there.
“I just didn’t think you were an intimate man.” The monkey muttered stupidly to distract him from the way that monk made his heart race.
Sanzang let himself relax further (Wukong felt an electric feeling run through his chest at his master’s warm body pressed against his own) and cupped the monkey’s cheek in his palm.
“Well, I don’t mind being intimate with you.”
He muttered.
Just like that, Wukong’s brain short circuited and he could only stare up at those deep, brown eyes in awe.
Sanzang seemed to find the bewildered expression funny, and he began laughing again.
He let the hand that was supporting his head fall to the other side of Wukong’s face and laced his fingers through the thick fur that grew from his temple.
The Great Sage didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know how to react, he didn’t know how to reply, and when the Tang Monk caressed his cheeks with his thumbs and smiled down at him with that intoxicating smile, Wukong couldn’t even think straight.
And when he leaned down and pressed his soft lips firmly against the pilgrim’s own and pulled away before he could even register what had happened, Sun Wukong had already become putty in his hands.
Tang Sanzang’s face was now accented with a blush of pink, but his gentle smile didn’t falter for a second.
Wukong stared up at the monk, breathless, and so hopelessly in love .
Sanzang ran his thumb across his cheek again and woke him out of his spell with a whisper.
“Are you still there?”
Wukong nodded.
“Can you do that again?” He whispered back.
The monk broke into another fit of laughter.
He doubled over, his forehead knocking unceremoniously against the Sage’s own, his laughter bubbling out and filling Wukong’s chest with cicadas.
Wukong brought his arms down from above his head and rested his hands on the back of the other’s neck.
Silently, but with understanding, the monk silenced his laughter and gazed at the monkey with genuine adoration.
And he kissed him.
It was messy and unrefined and slow, but oh it made Wukong’s head spin.
Sanzang’s lips were warm and his touch was gentle, he cradled the Great Sage’s head and pressed soft kisses against the other’s mouth.
Wukong clung to the monk, letting out puffs of air every time Sanzang pulled away slightly, and happily returned the kiss when he leaned back in for another.
But their moment was soon interrupted with a thump beside the pair’s head.
Sanzang jerked up in alarm and Wukong quickly followed suit. The two looked up, flustered and disheveled, and above them—
Bai Long Ma stared down at the pair with an unamused gaze. He stomped his hoof again and snorted before leaning down to grab the back of Sanzang’s robe in his teeth and yanked him away from the now alarmed monkey.
Before Wukong could protest, Wujing appeared blissfully unaware of the situation, holding the now-filled gourds of water.
“Master! I’m back, there was a stream a ways away from here so it took a while, but now we have a full supply of water.” He exclaimed happily.
Sanzang seemed to take a second to register, but quickly leapt to his feet and smiled.
“Good job Wujing! You did very well. Now we can continue our journey.”
He gave the sand demon a pat on the shoulder and turned back towards Long Ma and Wukong.
“Wukong, go wake Bajie. We must get going before it gets dark.”
Wukong simply nodded and stumbled to his feet, and Long Ma let out another snort.
The monkey stopped for a second and glanced at the dragon steed.
He quickly gave his muzzle a rub and muttered out a ‘thank you’ before running to the unsuspecting pig dozing just a few steps away.
Minutes later, a squeal of alarm came from the slumbering hog, and a loud guffaw followed shortly after.
Long Ma shook his mane and rolled his eyes.
Those two lovestruck idiots aren’t very good at hiding their affections… how stupid.
He didn’t mind it too terribly, though.