Here we arreeee~ the fic i sat on for a month and a half before i decided to post it~
I got this in my head a couple days after reading the whole spicynoodles tag on ao3, because as yall have prolly figured out, if i run out of content for a ship, i usually begin making the content myself. After i post chaps 1 and 2, i’ll begin updating this every friday, like i do on ao3. I don’t know why i wrote this, but honestly i pumped out 4000 words of it in 2 hrs one night, so yall know im in love w it.
It’s got like, implied nsfw, some emotions on mk’s part, some other stuff goin on 👀 (also if ur emetophobic feel free to stop by the askbox or my dms to ask for a summary bc this might trigger u)
I hope yall like it!!
It had started off as a casual thing.
A release of post-battle adrenaline, the kind of thing MK and Red Son did and then immediately agreed not to talk about or repeat.
But they repeated it, again and again and again.
The sound of their labored breathing echoed throughout MK’s apartment as the two of them lay on the bed, finally spent. MK felt pleasantly drowsy, and basked in the final rays of sunshine that shone through his window.
“I have to go.” Red Son murmured from beneath him. “My parents will be looking for me.”
MK buried his face in the crook of Red Son’s neck, and bit back the words in his throat that sounded suspiciously like “stay, don’t go, let me fall asleep in your arms.” Dangerous words, ones that would make this situation even worse.
They both knew that this was possibly the worst decision either of them had ever made, but MK wondered when “a casual fuck” had turned into something more, something that pricked at his eyes and put words on his tongue. He knew he’d never tell Red Son about any of his blossoming feelings, but he found himself wondering about the demon more and more. He’d never stayed for breakfast, but MK wondered if he drank coffee in the mornings. Maybe he was a chocolate milk drinker. Maybe he drank tea. Did he like pancakes or waffles better?
MK wanted to know everything about Red Son, from the tiny, inconsequential things to the big, life-changing moments.
He just wanted Red Son, in every way.
MK’s breath caught in his throat, but he rolled to the other side of the bed so Red Son could get up. He stared up at the ceiling as he heard the shuffling of clothes next to his bed, and chewed on his bottom lip as he blinked back tears. He’d been very emotional lately, and the feelings swirling in his head didn’t help.
The rustling of clothes stopped, and he heard quiet footsteps head toward the window. He heard Red Son draw in a breath, then listened as the window unlatched and closed as he left.
MK sucked in a breath, then began to cry. He curled in on himself as sobs shook his frame. He cried for lost chances, bad decisions, and missed opportunities. He ached to be held, to be soothed, but the only person who could help him feel better had already left.
He cried until he could cry no more, tired and dehydrated as he was. Then, he showered, using cold water to shock him into awakeness and out of the post-coital funk. He felt slightly better after putting on some pajama pants, then went to his mini-fridge to see if he had any food.
Truthfully, the stomach issues he’d been fighting off and on for a couple months now made it difficult to find an appetite, but he figured it was better to eat something and hopefully absorb some of the nutrients than eat nothing. He’d even tried a liquid-only diet, but had thrown up the liquids too.
He picked a package of dumplings, then settled on the sofa to watch reruns of Monkey King: The Animated Series. Fifteen minutes later, he was once again in the restroom, this time throwing up what little he managed to eat of the dumplings. When he finished, he finally gave in and called the doctor.
“Thank you for calling the clinic, how may I help you?” The receptionist answered.
Mk cleared his throat before responding, “Yes, I’d like to make an appointment,” in his most grown up voice.
The sounds of typing came through the line, and the receptionist asked, “Name?”
“Uh, Qi Xiaotian.”
“Okay, we have an opening tomorrow at 1 PM. Are you available?”
MK thought it over for a moment. On the one hand, he’d have to call in sick, but on the other, Pigsy would probably let him, what with his stomach issues and all. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. See you then!” The line went dead, and MK hung up.
Then, he called Mei.
“Hey MK!” She greeted excitedly. “What’s up?”
“Hey Mei! Can you take me to the doctor tomorrow?” He asked, knowing that Pigsy was busy and Tang didn’t have a car.
Her voice immediately took on a tone of concern. “Okay, but are you okay?”
“Yeah, just an annoying stomach bug.” He replied casually, flopping on the bed as he sipped water from a water bottle. “They’ll probably just give me some pills and tell me to drink liquids. Shouldn’t be too long.”
“Alright, but if it gets bad or you start throwing up blood or something, promise me you’ll go to the hospital?” Mei asked.
MK smiled as he replied, “Yeah, of course.”
It was nice to know that someone cared about him.
He just had to forget about Red Son and remember all the people in his life who loved him.
Mei hung up after that, and MK went back to their marathon. The episodes were ones they’d already seen, but there was a comfort in these older episodes, akin to wearing a nostalgia blanket. They snuggled with their favorite stuffed animal, and soon drifted into a heavy sleep.
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