.
.
Men of their status do not weep.
Yut-lung may have only lived for sixteen and a half years, but he understands what befits his image and what does not as one of the family members of the Lee's ruling clan.
You're a maggot.
Shorter's words crawl over him in hot, growling gusts of breath. His fingers tighten shakily around the knife-handle. Yut-lung feels its blade still twisted and embedded in his hair and plunged down through the mattress-bedding, digging deeper in, pulling a little on Yut-lung's scalp.
Sucking the living blood out of others.
He weeps over Yut-lung, exhaling loudly, Shorter's eyes widening in fear and anguish. His features crumpling.
The heaviness of Shorter's body sits right on top of him, his legs nudging to Yut-lung's own. Yut-lung's expression winces, ever so faintly, his dark lashes trembling when another droplet of moisture hits his cheekbone. Shorter's tears fall over Yut-lung's lips, tasting of salt and warmth.
"… At least I matter," Yut-lung murmurs, taking no pleasure from speaking truth.
Shorter's brown eyes dilate. He reacts violently, throttling Yut-lung's slender, pale neck down on the quilt, his hand feeling like a metal-vice. A choked groan escapes Yut-lung's mouth.
A tap on Shorter's pressure-point would subdue him. Only a single tap. It would be that easy. But during the split-second Yut-Lung takes to decide which nerve, and likely to save some bruises from growing, he freezes up to the sensation of a pair of soft lips descending, covering fully over Yut-lung's mouth.
It's less of a kiss and more impulse. A thing born between them of fury and regret and heat.
Yut-lung watches him with slight amazement, driven speechless, as Shorter pulls away and lets go of the knife. Even he seems confused by his own actions. "Fuck," Shorter breathes out, shifting himself away from the other teen. The lamplight glints against Shorter's cone brow-piercing.
He doesn't allow Shorter to get far, wrapping a leg to him, grasping the back of Shorter's neck and dragging him down, their noses grazing. "If you ask nicely," Yut-lung quips, smirking.
Shorter's coloring reddens with a blush.
Oh, that would be delightful… holding gazes, sinking his nose against Shorter's dark pubic hair, licking up his cock and taking him apart bit-by-bit, putting him at Yut-lung's mercy.
But he has enough of a distraction to unpocket his tazer. Yut-lung jams it against the base of Shorter's neck and zapping him, kicking his shuddering form onto the carpeted floor. Yut-Lung makes a low, disappointed noise, wiping off his mouth with a creamy white sleeve and sneering down on him.
Pathetic.
.
.
Banana Fish isn't mine. Yeah it's Banana Fish Angst Week 2019 some more and we're on Day 4: "Free Day" so I decided why not Yut-lung/Shorter dynamics? I was always lowkey shipping that in that rivals/frenemies way. It's also Conner's birthday! Happy birthday! THIS ISN'T AMAZING OR NOTHING BUT I REMEMBER OYU LIKED THIS HEADCANON WE DISCUSSED AND WHY NOT,,,, lmao dsgjhng okay yeah thanks for reading and yeeeeahhh any thoughts/comments mega appreciated! :D
