Chapter Text
It’s safe to say that Sing and Yut Lung are disgusting, hormonal, grabby little children and Shorter hates that he ever knew either of them
Because they won’t stop making out everywhere. And everywhere means everywhere.
At the store, at the park, in the living room, in the balcony, at the goddamn dining table– like what lust succubus is possessing these two, that when Shorter turns back for a single second to grab some salt and Yut Lung is already in Sing’s lap sucking face? Loudly. So loudly.
At this point, he thinks they’re trying a covert coup of the shared living space. They’re going to drive the rest of them out of there as they play grab ass.
And it’s going to work, oh god, they’re going to be homeless. Eiji keeps pretending that his blood pressure doesn’t rise when those two are going at it on the couch, which they all share, by the way. Ash has already checked out, eyes staring off into the distance and increasing the volume of the TV when those two are in the same room. For gods sake, he’s not even budgeting anymore because each time he tries, the two heathens appear from nothing and start cooing at each other right in front of Shorter’s sandwich.
Eiji might have tried to talk them into stopping, and Ash might have threatened them too, but it didn’t work. Nothing works.
Any respect he had for Sing vanished the second he pulled Yut Lung into his lap the other day and called him ‘luminous.’ Shorter never respected Yut Lung but dear god he has never wanted to smack the guy as badly as he does now, and that is saying way too much.
It might be his fault though. He is the one who got Sing to ask Yut Lung out, but to be fair he really didn’t think anything other than Yut Lung insulting and throwing things at Sing would ensue. He really didn’t think that Sing would be peeling a manadarin for his ‘angel’. Rubbing his feet as Yut Lung screams on the phone at his cronies.
Gag. God, someone shoot him, please he’s begging.
It’s just a passing thought really– that he could blow up whatver this is spectaculary. Like, just tell Yut Lung that his big strong hunk of a man asked him out so he could save on one meal. Let Yut Lung kill Sing. Take over the spare bedroom and put in a snack bar.
It would be so damn easy.
But noooo, Sing threatened to tie him over the Empire State building if he said anything to the snake. Threatened to tell Nadia that Shorter has been scamming restraunts to get free food. God, when did Sing become so damn annoying?
So domesticated and so soft?
Shorter likes to see his friends happy, obviously. But he also likes sitting on a part of the sofa that hasn’t been victim to Yut Lung and Sing’s escapades. Like eating anything without hearing them go at it like animals right behind him. Likes seeing Eiji be able to sit in his own damn house and not sigh every single second he’s here.
But still, Sing has managed to get some protein in, has muscles and is tall enough to swing Yut Lung around like they aren’t trying to blind Shorter with their happiness. Fuck the honeymoon stage, seriously why can’t they just skip it and go straight to screaming at each other?
Like, what happened to shame? To decency? To not having to hear those two whisper to each other all night? To morals? To his sanity?
Is Yut Lung really that enticing that Sing has forgotten he’s technically partially incharge of the city? Is Sing really so strong and cool that Yut Lung lets him touch his waist in broad daylight and not try to scratch his eyes out?
Because, fuck– at this rate Shorter is gonna to go to a church, get some holy water and hire a priest to cleanse the whole damn place everytime those two even look at each other. They have to stave the sin away.
He sees it. Eiji and Ash might have given up but Shorter never will. Since it’s partially, maybe, sort of, kinda his fault that this is even happening, he’ll take on this burden. He’ll set them on the path of decency and sitting in different seats.
And his greatest weapon, his only weapon– a spray bottle with water and turmeric will aid this crusade. Shorter weeps, as the last line of defence, as the last troop standing. As the one who will face their wrath when Sing looks more orange than man and Yut Lung has an entirely new wardrobe.
But so is the burden. So is his destiny, the only way to achieve peace. The only way he’ll sleep at night ever again.
Ash and Eiji, they've been through so much. They tried, how valiantly they tried. But every man has their limit. And somehow, Shorter keeps pushing his away. Is there any other choice?
And he knows, like clockwork, he’ll prepare this sword, shake, shake, shake it, and make his way to the living room. He’ll see Sing and Yut Lung on the sofa, moaning and huffing and grabbing at each other as they share spit. He’ll raise a steady, weary hand.
And spray. Cue the screeching, the yelling, the threats. But it won’t deter Shorter. Because never before has Shorter Wong backed down in the face of evil, and he cannot start now.