I listened to Marry You by Bruno Mars and all I could think of was drunk Wukong while you're traveling west together.
Thinking of how your little rag tag group just saved Sanzang once more and while raiding the yaoguai's hideout Wujing found some caskets of wine - yaoguai wine, much stronger than anything humans could make but not quite as strong as what the Celestials have. Bajie and Wukong practically beg Tang Monk to let them keep it and celebrate that night over dinner, just this once, they've been working so hard! And Tang Monk knows that he should be discouraging such vices, should be encouraging them to abstain from drink but…they have been working hard to help him and he knows it's still an adjustment for the Monkey King and even Bajie. Wukong spent 500 years with nothing but hot metals to eat and drink after spending centuries eating and drinking the finest things possible with his monkeys and celestial friends. Even Bajie when he was a celestial general enjoyed the heavenly fruits and dishes of a realm beyond mortals. It's clear that they miss it, even if they keep their complaints quiet. Some gentle encouragement from you seals the deal, Tang Monk can see that you also would appreciate a night to relax, even if both you and Ao Lie won't be drinking much.
It's a good thing you don't, because one sip of that wine in-between bites of your stew that night has you tittering and coughing from how strong it is.
"Hardy and hard hitting! Nothing less when it comes to yaoguais sweet peach!" The monkey crows from by the fire, dancing to music only he can hear as he sings a song from his home mountain. You're a giggling mess already, watching him and trying (and failing) to hum along with his non-existent tune as you stand to get yourself a second bowl of stew. Bajie and Wujing aren't fairing any better than the monkey, laying together on the ground and snoring already. 'Lightweights!' Wukong had called them.
As you fill your bowl Wukong finally settles down and sits with a hard 'thump' against the grass below, leaning back on his elbows as his tail stretches out behind him and flicks idly. Tang Sanzang and Ao Lie are smiling at him as they settle down to rest, the dragon horse curled around your master like a protective wall. You're about to settle back down to eat when a clawed hand reaches out and grabs at your robes, tugging gently but insistently. You look over your shoulder to see the monkey watching you, the drunk haziness in his eyes softening as he smiles. It's a beautiful sight, canines peeking from under his lip as his eyes reflect the glowing embers of the bonfire. His fur has a warm glow to it, and you wonder not for the first time what it must be like to card your fingers through as if he belonged to you.
"Yes?" You giggle, eyeing his claws where they pinch your robe. He tugs a little more, guiding you away from the heat of the fire and closer to his own warmth. Just a couple steps and suddenly those capable, worn hands are gripping your hips and guiding you down onto his lap, your back to his chest as you feel shy excitement pool in your belly.
"W-Wukong?" You can barely speak his name as his arms wrap around you, his hands wrapping around the back of yours as they hold your bowl of food like a life line. The monkey isn't doing much better, the fluttering excitement in his gut mixes with the alcohol, making him feel bold. You relax near instantly in his hold, and he takes it as a mark of pride that you feel so safe with him.
"I think…it's about time this old monkey settled down." He mumbles, his voice a soft chirp against your ear. You give a questioning hum, trying to focus on your food even as your stomach feels like it's doing flips.
"...Think I should marry my pretty peach…" Wukong is pretty sure this is a Drunk Wukong Idea™ but it was also a Drunk Wukong Idea™ to pull you into his lap and bury his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent and pressing soft kisses to the column of your throat, and that was working out fantastic so far. You giggle at his words, letting him do as he pleases while you eat.
"…I think your 'pretty peach' would like that." You whisper into your spoonful of broth. The only response you get is a pleased, drunk hum.
