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Yang winced at the marks left on his neck, marking him as Yin's. Did Yin really mean it when he said Yang needed him? Yang wanted his independence, Yang wanted to think he was better off alone. Yang wanted to be feared by all, respected by all. Yet, what would happen when nobody was willing to stop him anymore? What would happen when everyone left? He'd have nobody to hurt but himself. He'd crash and burn, and nobody would be there to catch him. Except Yin. And Yang didn't want to rely on Yin so much. He didn't want his bossy, idiot brother hovering around him all the time. He hated that Yin would always try and find something to criticize Yang over. The way Yin had him pinned down earlier, begging Yang to admit he needed him as Yang squirmed, it was pitiful. Yin needed Yang to need him. He had no purpose outside of it.
But Yang had nobody else as forgiving as Yin. Yin would never leave him. Yin could take all the aggression and violence hurled towards him. Yin could take it. Yin was the only person who could. And Yang was the only person miserable enough to be forced into codependency over and over by Yin. Critique, berate, argue, guilt, forgive, love, and then critique again. Maybe he deserved it, Yang would lash out and disobey on purpose. He went against every single one of Yin's words to prove his free will. He took it all out on Yin because he knew he'd stay no matter what.
But anyways.
Yang cursed under his breath at the hickies all over his neck. People shouldn't be allowed to rape their brothers to reinforce their codependent relationships with them, but Yang figured he deserved it. Whatever. Yang figured he had nobody else. Yang even liked it a little, shamefully. Yang didn't even cry this time, he begged and panicked and kicked and insulted, but he didn't cry, and it didn't hurt too bad, aside from when Yin's teeth sunk into his neck and grabbed him rough. It was a necessary evil, wasn't it? Besides, if Yin thought he was such a morally righteous little angel, always righteous in his punishments and his judgement, good for him. He could take his little victory and parade it around. Who cared?
To hide the marks. Mom took the makeup with her when she left. That option wasn't on the table. Yang hated scarves and turtlenecks and he never wore them anyways. Band-Aids were suspicious. Lying was suspicious. Yang hit the bathroom counter hard. Damn it, just come up with something! Ice, right? To get rid of it faster? It wouldn't rid Yang of the mark entirely in an instant, but it made it easier to lie, right? Insect bites, bruises from getting into scuffles, it'd be perfect, nobody would know.
Yang's legs shifted, pressed together. Just a bit sore down there. It wasn't like he was 100% prepared to be pounded into the sheets tonight. He held back tears. Successfully. Because stoic, brave Yang never cried. Ever. Besides, how stupid would it be to cry over something that didn't even hurt that much? Or something that wouldn't even be close to the first time it happened?
Deep down, Yang really loved his brother, huh? He admired him so much. He felt so protective towards him. He loved him. So much. He'd kill everyone else in the world for his brother.
Or not. Yang didn't know anymore. He didn't know anything at all.
Maybe he didn't need to know.