Ship/Member: Seokmin/Jeonghan Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: (vague gesturing) op is ex-catholic sorry; lies lies lies; a foundation of lying:) Permission to remix: Yes
hi lilli happy early bday my love i got you this dead rat
***
They don’t choose a church because:
a) Neither he nor Jeonghan are religious.
Seokmin was raised in a progressive non-denominational church, the star of the choir despite wanting to throw up every time his solo would come down the wire. He’d met Jeonghan in an audition room and they’d stuck together, so it’s funny. How religion was the thing that actually brought them together in some way.
Funny.
Jeonghan swears up and down that he would catch flame if he ever set foot near a religious institution, you know, the whole gay thing, Seokmin-ah. Any emotional sensitivity is because of religious trauma, so says Jeonghan’s therapist… so says Jeonghan.
His family doesn’t speak to him much because his eomma clung to her rosary like a lifeline, does the sign of the cross when she sees him.
It’s a whole thing, one that Seokmin remembers, peeling Jeonghan off the ground and holding him together. It was a promise he’d made then, when his spine was less steeled, when his heart was still softer.
He wonders if that’s why they’re even still together—because Jeonghan is too scared to be alone. He sees it sometime, when Seokmin lingers at work another hour, considering the flashes of skin, the soft smiles when he indulges his colleagues for drinks at a salon. (“Ah, sajangnim, I have someone at home!” and they wave him off, loyal to his wife, so maybe they’re both… Never mind.)
Genuine concern flashes in his eyes, then smug assurance. Seokmin used to feel a flare of pride at how Jeonghan needed him, but that’s all he is now. A need. Not even a want.
That, and technically b) it’s a commitment ceremony.
Commitment, the one thing that Seokmin can give his—fiancé is technically correct. Friend, only sometimes. Lover, barely. Does he love Jeonghan? In a way. Does Jeonghan love him?
Jury’s still out.
The ring on Seokmin’s finger was his great-grandfather’s. They’d had this love story that he’d seen as aspirational. Married for a million years, died within a couple of months of each other due to the heartbreak.
At the beginning of his relationship with Jeonghan, he’d seen that for them as well. Til the end. Forever and always.
But the thing is, Jeonghan has made a liar of an honest man, and the bitterness that comes with it is vile and sour and copper at the back of his throat.
To have and to hold. Through uncertainty and better or worse. There’s no way it could get worse.
Could it get better? It’s an endless dance with him, one where they’re both trying to lead.
Richer, poorer. Sickness, health.
Through indifference, through talking past each other.
Jeonghan may be lying to Seokmin, but Seokmin knows his lies are to save face.
[REMIX] i don't know how to stop i don't know how to (figure eight)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: (vague gesturing) op is ex-catholic sorry; lies lies lies; a foundation of lying:)
Permission to remix: Yes
hi lilli happy early bday my love i got you this dead rat
***
They don’t choose a church because:
a) Neither he nor Jeonghan are religious.
Seokmin was raised in a progressive non-denominational church, the star of the choir despite wanting to throw up every time his solo would come down the wire. He’d met Jeonghan in an audition room and they’d stuck together, so it’s funny. How religion was the thing that actually brought them together in some way.
Funny.
Jeonghan swears up and down that he would catch flame if he ever set foot near a religious institution, you know, the whole gay thing, Seokmin-ah. Any emotional sensitivity is because of religious trauma, so says Jeonghan’s therapist… so says Jeonghan.
His family doesn’t speak to him much because his eomma clung to her rosary like a lifeline, does the sign of the cross when she sees him.
It’s a whole thing, one that Seokmin remembers, peeling Jeonghan off the ground and holding him together. It was a promise he’d made then, when his spine was less steeled, when his heart was still softer.
He wonders if that’s why they’re even still together—because Jeonghan is too scared to be alone. He sees it sometime, when Seokmin lingers at work another hour, considering the flashes of skin, the soft smiles when he indulges his colleagues for drinks at a salon. (“Ah, sajangnim, I have someone at home!” and they wave him off, loyal to his wife, so maybe they’re both… Never mind.)
Genuine concern flashes in his eyes, then smug assurance. Seokmin used to feel a flare of pride at how Jeonghan needed him, but that’s all he is now. A need. Not even a want.
That, and technically b) it’s a commitment ceremony.
Commitment, the one thing that Seokmin can give his—fiancé is technically correct. Friend, only sometimes. Lover, barely. Does he love Jeonghan? In a way. Does Jeonghan love him?
Jury’s still out.
The ring on Seokmin’s finger was his great-grandfather’s. They’d had this love story that he’d seen as aspirational. Married for a million years, died within a couple of months of each other due to the heartbreak.
At the beginning of his relationship with Jeonghan, he’d seen that for them as well. Til the end. Forever and always.
But the thing is, Jeonghan has made a liar of an honest man, and the bitterness that comes with it is vile and sour and copper at the back of his throat.
To have and to hold. Through uncertainty and better or worse. There’s no way it could get worse.
Could it get better? It’s an endless dance with him, one where they’re both trying to lead.
Richer, poorer. Sickness, health.
Through indifference, through talking past each other.
Jeonghan may be lying to Seokmin, but Seokmin knows his lies are to save face.