#time for me to go hide in a snowbank farewell slkdfew

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

ALRIGHT. Just gonna post this immediately so my brain stops trying to make it into another multi-chapter fic alskdmfoiawef 

This is based off of this post, and the idea that Mk drew Pigsy’s Noodle Shop logo. I don’t know just take it ksldfmaewf *shoves this into your arms* 

~~~~~~~~

 Mk had been drawing for as long as he could remember.

He wasn’t all that good at it, and he had a long way to go if he ever wanted to actually draw professionally, which he still wasn’t sure if he really did want or not, (he wasn’t sure if he could,) but it was something he enjoyed doing in his spare time at least. It was relaxing and he’d usually spend his weekends with his cheap earbuds in, listening to the radio, pencil scratching across the page as he sketched out the pictures in his head. They never seemed to come out quite the way he intended, but he still liked it in spite of his skill not being up to par with what he imagined. He’d get there eventually.  

When Pigsy let him move upstairs above the noodle shop-in-progress, he’d grabbed his worn nearly-full sketchbook and whatever he had in his backpack, and accepted the offer. He also said he’d let him work in the shop once it was finished too, and Mk felt a lot better about moving in knowing he would be able to pay him back in the near-future.

It was a nice space, his space, he’d never really had his own space like this before. Pigsy wouldn’t even come inside without knocking and being invited, even if was practically empty at the start. The moment Mk put his bag down Pigsy had given him the only key and told him to come downstairs and get him if he needed anything before promptly leaving.

Mk tried locking the room, just to see if he could, (he could,) and rested his forehead against the door, not really sure how he felt about it. In the end he just left it unlocked most of the time because he knew Pigsy wouldn’t come inside without his permission.

The blank walls started to get to him a mere two days inside the room though, so he rooted through his sketchbook to find a couple drawings he didn’t cringe so badly at and plastered them up on the wall with some tape, which he found in a drawer of the dusty desk that was tucked into a corner of the room--the only piece of furniture inside the room at the moment. There were only about five in total but having them up made him feel a lot better.

The only one that wasn’t related to Monkey King was something silly he’d sketched after Pigsy had first offered him the room. Pigsy didn’t smile much, but he had then, and Mk had flipped open his sketchbook after he left, the bowl of noodles he’d given him steaming and smelling so good, and drew his giddy, happy, grateful feeling out. Maybe no one else saw Pigsy the way he did, and maybe he’d never actually smiled that big and it was just Mk, but the picture embodied how he felt in that moment, and he liked it.

He stepped back, smiling at it from where it was on the wall next to the really nice one he’d done of Monkey King. It was more of a doodle than anything, but it was his favourite because of the person and memory attached to it.

The pictures blended together into the background rather quickly, but it was the sentiment behind it, like stamping his mark on the room and really making it his. He hadn’t been allowed anything like posters before, and he’d always wanted some. His space, he reminded himself. It was something small, but it made him smile.

The shop wasn’t quite finished, so he didn’t have much to occupy him until it actually opened and he'd be able to work. In the meantime, he tried to do whatever he could to help out; painting walls with Pigsy and handing him tools when he needed them, racing to the store to get the right sized screws and new paint brushes one time after he broke one throwing it at a spider--something he made sure to add to the list he had at the back of his sketchbook of things he needed to pay Pigsy back for; a list that was growing rather quickly.

They went shopping for clothes when Pigsy realized Mk really only had two outfits to switch between when the other was in the wash after he’d gotten paint on both shirts while working on the walls.

Clothes, new shoes, then a blanket and pillow to call his own instead of the ones he’d been borrowing from him, and finally an actual bed instead of the air mattress (also borrowed from Pigsy,) which Mk had been using up to that point. He tried insisting he didn’t need one but Pigsy had just told him that the air mattress wouldn’t last forever and he needed something more concrete and comfortable since he was staying.

Mk had to bite back a smile despite his festering guilt over all the money Pigsy was spending on him. He was staying, and Pigsy never even looked like he’d considered anything else.

He got distracted by the warm giddy feeling long enough for Pigsy to buy the bed without him noticing, and then it was too late to talk him out of it, so he just added it to the list.

Getting the mattress upstairs was the most challenging part of the whole ordeal. Doors were not made to fit mattresses through. The bedframe was easy since they just took it apart and carried the separate pieces upstairs so they could put it back together and avoid the whole ordeal of trying to figure out how to fit it through the small door frame. Eventually, with a lot of shoving and swearing on Pigsy’s part, they got the mattress inside.

“Glad that’s over,” Pigsy said, stretching his back, which gave several audible cracks. “Where do you wanna set this thing up?”

“Oh, um…” Mk looked around the room. It wasn’t exactly something he’d thought about, since he hadn’t known they were actually getting a bed when they set out. The air mattress was still in its place tucked into a corner by the window. He liked that spot. He turned back to Pigsy and pointed at the corner. “Over there’s fine.”

“Alright,” Pigsy nodded. “You want help putting it together?”

Mk bit his lip. On one hand, he’d already taken up a lot of Pigsy’s time with the shopping already, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to become too much of a nuisance, but on the other hand he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it by himself. His experience with putting things together didn’t extend far past handing screwdrivers to the person actually doing the work.

“I could probably figure it out,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and offering Pigsy a smile.

Pigsy looked at him with a suspicious squint.  

“But I mean--if you wanted to help I wouldn’t stop you or anything,” he stammered, face heating up slightly under his scrutiny.

Pigsy watched him for a moment more, making him squirm a little, then sighed and started towards the parts without saying anything.

Mk scrambled after him, feeling a little relieved.

It didn’t take very long to put the thing together. Mk chatted through most of the work, words just flowing out to fill the silence. Pigsy would respond in grunts with the occasional comment, or request for Mk to grab a tool from downstairs, but didn’t seem to be annoyed by his talking, so he let himself keep rambling.

Once the frame was pieced together, they moved the air mattress and shoved it into the corner properly before wrestling the real mattress onto it. Mk resisted the urge to crawl on it and test it’s bounciness once it was in place, settling for bouncing on his heels instead.

Pigsy headed over to the plastic shopping bags that he’d dropped in the corner once they’d gotten back from the store, two of which held Mk’s clothes and fished around in the third one before pulling out a package of material.

Mk looked at it curiously. “What’s that?”

“Bedsheets,” Pigsy told him, walking over and dropping it onto the mattress.

“Oh,” Mk said, feeling kinda silly. He’d forgotten that was something he needed, and he hadn’t even noticed them being purchased. He really needed to work on paying more attention to things. He mentally made a note to add bedsheets to the list of things he needed to pay Pigsy back for.

He finally gave into the urge to jump onto the bed, hopping up and letting himself bounce twice before dropping down to sit on the surface, crossing his legs, and set to work opening the packaging.

His bed.

He bit back a smile.

“Did you draw these?” Pigsy’s voice pulled his focus away from his task.

Mk looked up, startled. “Huh?”

Pigsy was standing a little ways away, looking at the wall, his arms folded across his chest, head tilted as he studied--

Ohhhh the drawings. He forgot about those.

He felt abruptly embarrassed and a little flustered. “Um, yeah. I just uh… thought the wall could use some decoration.” He bit his lip, feeling a little nervous. Had he messed up putting them up? He hadn’t even thought about whether or not Pigsy was okay with tape damage on the walls. He swallowed down the brief feeling of panic to force a smile. “I can take them down if you want.”

“It’s your room,” Pigsy said, without looking at him, eyes still set on his drawings. “Not up to me.”

Mk chewed on the inside of his cheek and fiddled with the sheet in his hands.

“Is this me?”

“Um,” Mk gulped. “Yes?”

Pigsy was quiet for a moment.

Mk shifted, trying not to feel like he was being scrutinized rather than his art; it felt like the same thing somehow. It was probably weird that he’d drawn him. He hadn’t really been thinking Pigsy would see it when he’d put it up, but now he figured he should have expected that.

“You can have it if you want,” he finally offered, if only to break the silence.

Pigsy hummed absentmindedly, then glanced at him. “Yeah?”

Mk nodded furiously and scrambled off the bed to hop over and peel it off the wall. He could always try and draw another one, even if it might not feel the same. It would probably be less weird for Pigsy if he let him take it and pretend it had never been there.

He was careful peeling the tape off the paper, only accidentally ripping off a little before he handed Pigsy the drawing.

Pigsy unfolded his arms to take it from him, a lot more carefully than Mk was expecting, holding it like it was something more important than just a drawing on a piece of paper torn from a sketchbook.

His next question made Mk’s world grind to a halt.

“Can I use this for my shop logo?”

Mk blinked. “...what?”

Pigsy looked at him. “I won’t if you don’t want me to, but I’d pay you for it.”

Mk gaped at him.

He… wanted to use his art. For his noodle-shop; the thing he’d been working towards for years, and he wanted to use Mk’s art?

“Don’t--don’t you want to get a professional to make it?” he finally managed to stammer out. His shoulders were steadily hiking up to his ears and he rubbed his arm, face heating up a little as he muttered under his breath. “I’m not very good.”

Pigsy gave him a look. “You’re not half as bad as you think you are, kid.”

Mk was sure his face probably looked red.

“You want time to think it over?” Pigsy asked, still holding Mk’s art like it was worth more than it was.

“No, it’s--yeah you can use it if you really want,” he rocked back on his heels and waved his hands a little. “And you don’t have to pay me, or anything--it’s not even really that good. I can make you a better one if you want?”

“No,” Pigsy said simply, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “This one’s good.”

Mk gaped at him for another second, floundering and going even more red. “...o-okay.”

Pigsy gave a little heh, as he looked at the drawing, and he was smiling. He looked up at Mk making him freeze. He wasn’t sure anyone had looked at him or his art that long, and he couldn’t help but feel that he was worth the time, but… Pigsy seemed to think he was.

“Thanks,” Pigsy nodded once, before turning and heading to the door. “Make sure you actually put that stuff away.” Probably referring to the clothing they’d just purchased.

“Yeah!” Mk called after him. “I will!”

Pigsy vanished through the door and around the corner, and he could hear the creaking of the floorboards as he made his way downstairs.

Mk couldn’t help but stare after him, even after he was out of sight. That was… an unexpected turn of events.  

He glanced around the room, which felt a little emptier without the drawing or Pigsy in it, but the bed helped fill that space a little.

He hurried over to the shopping bags that held his clothes and picked them up before heading over to the dresser, rooting through them as he went. Hopefully it would distract him enough so he could forget about the drawing.

____________

He’d be lying if he said he forgot about it.

In fact, it was pretty much the only thing he could think about for the next couple of weeks. It was hard not to think about really. Someone wanted to use his art for actual real purposes--Pigsy wanted to use his art for an actual real thing. The logo for his shop no less! He’d been talking about a logo a lot.

Well...as much as Pigsy talked about anything that is--as in he mentioned it twice, and that was twice more than he usually mentioned things, so Mk knew it was important. Which was why it was just straight up crazy that Pigsy would even think about using his art for his logo. It was important! Someone important should make it for him!

Pigsy didn’t mention it again, and Mk wasn’t really sure how to, or even if he should ask. He kinda missed having the drawing on his wall, and he tried to draw another one a few times but it never really turned out quite as right as the first one felt, mainly because he was a little preoccupied by nervousness, so he gave up after a while.  

They kept working on the inside of the shop, painting and repairing and gradually making it look how Pigsy intended it to. It really started to come together when Pigsy brought in the kitchenware and the dishes into what had become the kitchen. Some actual renovators had come by to take care of that; the kitchen was one thing Pigsy wanted done absolutely perfectly, so professionals had been hired.

Unlike the logo, Mk couldn’t help but note. His drawing seemed silly compared to what the shop really looked like. Warm and welcoming, and like a real noodle house. It deserved a logo to match. There was just no way Pigsy was serious about using his art.

Yeah. He’d probably just said that to make Mk feel better about how dumb the doodle was.

Then again... it wasn’t like Pigsy to say something he didn’t mean. But it didn’t make any sense otherwise! How could he possibly want to use Mk’s art? And a silly little doodle at that, one he’d drawn with too many lines and not enough steady strokes, and it probably didn’t even really look like Pigsy, and for sure he’d want something actually nice, and not what Mk made--

“Hey, Mk,” Pigsy’s voice cut off his thoughts. “Hand me that screwdriver will ya?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Mk exclaimed, diving for said screwdriver. “I got it!” He nearly dropped it but managed to get a good hold on it after a minimal amount of flailing and passed it to him.

Pigsy didn’t laugh or scold him, or even acknowledge his fumble at all, simply accepting the screwdriver and setting to work tightening the bolt under the table.

Mk hummed under his breath, tapping his fingers on his pant leg as he knelt nearby, waiting where he was in case Pigsy needed him to get anything else.  

A buzzing sound caught both their attention and Pigsy sat up, cursing when he bumped his head on the underside of the table. He rubbed the top of his head as he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before squinting down at what Mk assumed was a text.

Pigsy grumbled something under his breath as he typed out a response, looking more like he was jabbing at the screen than tapping it. Mk couldn’t tell if it was the normal grumble jabbing or the annoyed grumble jabbing.

“Who was that?” Mk asked, as Pigsy stood up, brushing some dried paint particles off his clothes.

“Think you could grab something from the store for me?” Pigsy asked instead of answering, still looking at his phone.

Mk blinked before jumping to his feet, grinning. “Yup! What do you need?”

“Two more bolts like last time, I think we lost some between the cracks somewhere, and I ain’t wanting to look for ‘em.”

“Will do, boss!” Mk saluted before racing out of the almost-renovated-noodle-shop.

He hopped into the little car-cart thing that would soon be the delivery cart once the place got up and running, and headed to the store for the few items. It wasn’t very far, technically speaking he could have walked, but he could use the driving practice.

“Back again, I see,” the cashier greeted with amusement, when he entered.

“Yup!” Mk said brightly. “Just need some more of those bolts we got yesterday.”

“You lose some?” she chuckled, reaching under the counter to root through the containers beneath it, one of which held the items Mk was there for.

He shrugged with a smile. “Pigsy seems to think so.”

“Well, they’re pretty easy to misplace, being so small,” she admitted. “How many do you need?”

“Just two!” Mk told her, rocking back on his heels. He glanced around the small store that had grown increasingly familiar since he’d started working on the noodle shop with Pigsy. He liked the smell of sawdust that seemed to cling to the air near the front. The back smelled more like paint fumes which he didn’t like as much.

“Here we go!” The clinking sound of a plastic container full of bolts being set on the counter drew his attention back to the cashier. She gave him a smile. “Take your pick.”

He plucked two especially shiny ones out of the container she offered him, and dropped the coins on the counter to pay for them. “Thank you!”

“Speedy visit today,” she laughed. “You’re welcome. Drive safe!”

“I will!” he called back as he zipped out of the hardware store, waving on his way out. He made sure to carefully slip both bolts into his jacket pocket and zip it up so he wouldn’t lose them, then hopped into the to-be noodle cart and headed back to the shop.

As far as he could tell, there wasn’t much else that needed to be done before the shop was ready to open. He felt a little nervous at the prospect of actually having a job, but it was Pigsy, so he figured he’d be okay. He just had to make sure to work hard and be good at it, and it’d be fine.

He checked to make sure the bolts were still in his pocket four times on the way back; better safe than sorry.

He parked out back and rushed inside, fishing the bolts out of his pocket and waving them in the air as he passed through the door. “I got them!” He skidded into the kitchen, nearly slipping across the newly tiled floor and into a wall, but managed to catch the edge of the counter to stop himself with yelp.

He looked around when no response came.

“Pigsy?”

He peeked around the corner but couldn’t see him anywhere. That was weird.

“Pigsy?” he tried again. He spun around looking for any sign of life in the empty shop. Where had he gone?

Some loud voices from outfront drew his attention, and he noticed the front door was wide open.

Huh, he must’ve gone outside.

He started forward, only slipping a little on the tiles on his way out of the kitchen area.

He spotted him almost immediately when he reached the door. Pigsy was standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his chest, looking up above the shop at something.

“Pigsy!” Mk exclaimed, waving and stumbling forward. “Hey! What are you doing out here?”

“A little higher,” Pigsy called to somebody Mk couldn’t see before looking at him and waving him forward.

Mk hurried over to him to get out of the way of whatever was happening above him. He craned his neck up trying to see, and Pigsy grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward to keep him moving, making him stumble a bit.

“Careful, kid. Outta the way.”

“What--?” he started to ask, as he had him stand next to him, but then stopped short when his eyes landed on what had Pigsy’s attention.

The shop’s sign flickered to life, lighting up and highlighting what was unmistakably Mk’s doodle. It was pink and glowy and blown up to a bigger size, impossible to miss from the street, even with all the other bright signs around--or maybe it was just like that for him. Every line he’d accidentally made, but left because it hadn’t needed to be perfect in was there, and it even had his signature scratched into the top left corner.

Pigsy had actually used his art for the logo.

“Here good?” the man installing it asked, glancing down at them.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” Pigsy nodded from where he stood next to Mk. “Thanks.”

Mk could only gape up at the sign as the man climbed down and spoke to Pigsy; something about calling him if there were any complications or problems with the sign. It was kinda hard to focus on what they were saying when he was busy staring up at his art plastered on a sign.

A disbelieving, almost hysterical laugh bubbled up in chest but caught in his throat so it came out as more of a strangled sound.

Pigsy had actually wanted to use it, he wasn’t just saying it. The proof was right there in front of him; his art was being used as a logo for a real actual shop. Pigsy’s shop. He’d actually thought it was good enough to put up and make it part of his shop.

“Looks good,” Pigsy said suddenly, startling him.

Mk turned his head and gaped soundlessly at him, second guessing whether or not he was seeing things right, or just hallucinating the whole thing.

“I’m thinking five hundred is reasonable,” Pigsy continued without looking away from the sign, either oblivious to Mk’s shock, or choosing to ignore it. “But we can discuss it inside if you want more for it.”

That got his brain working again, at least a little and he spluttered. “Wait, what?”

Pigsy looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “It’s your art, kid. I’m not just gonna take it and use it to promote my business without paying you.”

Words--what--that--

“But… you…” Mk flapped his hands, words jumbling up and coming out in halting splutters and choking him a little. He finally got something out. “You want to pay me? For real?”

Pigsy was looking at him like he was the crazy one, and not the other way around. “Yeah,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was not.

“It--you don’t--that’s not--You don’t have to pay me--” He’d actually used it.

“Look, kid,” Pigsy interrupted, looking at him flatly. “Five hundred’s the minimum I’m giving you. Most logo’s cost twice that much on a good day. Usually closer to a thousand or so.”

Mk felt a little lightheaded. “...thousand?”

For a doodle?

“--but since I know you’re not comfortable with that amount I’m keeping it low for now. We can add more later if you want.”

“I--no, that’s--that’s fine,” Mk stammered out. “You don’t have to pay me for it at all. Just…” he scrambled for a reason and grabbed for the first thing he thought of.  “--consider it me paying you back for the clothes.”

Pigsy looked at him skeptically.

“And the bed,” Mk added.

“You don’t need to pay me back for those things, kid.”

“I want to,” he blurted, then snapped his mouth shut, feeling a lot like he’d just betrayed himself. Too late now though, so he just did his best to hold Pigsy’s gaze and appear as sincere as he felt. “Please?”

Pigsy looked at him for a moment. “Alright,” he finally said, turning away and starting forward towards the shop. “You can consider us square then. The logo makes up for anything you feel like you owe me.”

“But--” Mk scrambled after him, trying not to glance up at the sign too many times as he headed inside. “--that’s not enough to cover everything!”

“I think it is.”

“You don’t even think I should pay you back at all,” Mk protested.

“Alright, fine,” Pigsy relented, turning to him, and Mk flailed his arms to stop in time so he didn’t smash into him, and his shoulders hiked up to his ears as Pigsy fixed him in a squint. “Tell you what: you go look at that list of yours and add everything up, and then come back down here and I’ll tell you if the logo covers it or not.”

It seemed like a trap, but he could tell it was the best he was going to get from Pigsy, so he nodded, already starting towards the stairs, but stopped once he realized exactly what Pigsy had said. He spun around. “Wait, how did you know about my list?”

“Saw you writing in it the other day. You’re not really subtle, kid.”

“Oh,” Mk said, heat rising in his cheeks. “That… makes sense.”

“Hurry up, I ain’t got all day.”

“Right!” He turned around and raced across the shop and up the stairs to his room. Despite everything he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, a small bubble of happiness expanding in his chest and threatening to burst at any moment, leaving him breathless.

Pigsy used his art. For real. He actually liked it and thought it was good enough to use for something real.

He didn’t even realize he was grinning until he’d grabbed his sketchbook and was racing back downstairs.