Ship/Member: Seokmin/Minghao Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: friends to lovers(?), alcohol, drowning used as a metaphor Permission to remix: Yes Word count: 1791
dear ki, i probably shouldn’t be doing this when the prompt has already been filled so well but this poem has haunted me so! here we are, with no plot but lots of vibes
***
In the summer I stretch out on the shore And think of you. Had I told the sea What I felt for you, It would have left its shores, Its shells, Its fish, And followed me.
- Nizar Qabbani
and you are ready to die in this swimming pool because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means your life is over anyway.
- Richard Siken
***
Minghao learns that he likes Seokmin by a lake.
It’s a school biology trip, and they’re sitting on the lakeside, using little nets to look for fish or plants or insects or whatever. Minghao’s already forgotten what they’re supposed to be doing. The sun glares on the back of his neck, like he’s being punished for something, and the dry grass irritates his legs. The air is teeming with insects; Minghao hasn’t seen any, but he can feel the shadows of them crawl over his skin. He shifts uncomfortably, looking over at Seokmin, his partner for the project. Seokmin is actually bent over the lake, moving the net around, discomfort be damned. Rays of sunlight crown him from behind and highlight the focus in his eyes, like he’ll coerce a fish into the net by sheer force of will.
“Why are you doing this?” Minghao asks.
“Doing what?” Seokmin replies, briefly glancing at him.
“Trying. Nobody else is. They’ve given up.”
“You never know, we could catch something!”
And isn’t that Seokmin all over? Trying when nobody else would? Helping when nobody else would? Befriending Minghao when nobody else would? If there was one thing that Minghao knows about his friend, it’s that he would only stop when he had enough, not when anyone else did.
Even so, Minghao doesn’t want him to waste his time.
“I’m not sure we’re actually going to-”
“Shh! I think I feel something!”
Minghao scrambles closer to Seokmin, watching the net intently. Seokmin’s hand is clenched tight on the handle like he’s drowning, like he’s the one struggling in the water. Minghao thinks he could memorise the shape of his hands; he isn’t quite there yet, but one day he could commit the ridges and valleys of them to memory.
“Well? Did you get anything?” Minghao asks.
Seokmin’s grip loosens. He turns to Minghao and smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he whispers, like there’s something to apologise for. Minghao just smiles back.
Seokmin takes the net out of the water, looks around furtively to check nobody’s looking, and then puts it on the ground next to him. He stretches his arms out, tilting his head back to let the sun kiss his face, and if Minghao’s heart were a kite, it would be soaring right now with Seokmin to guide it.
He’s not used to this. He’s been friends with Seokmin for some time now, but he’s had an enduring heaviness in his core for as long as he’s been alive, and he’s not used to Seokmin making it lighter with his gentle smile. Minghao isn’t sure, but he thinks he knows this feeling - like he would know a friend of a friend, someone he’s heard about but never seen.
Minghao likes Seokmin. It’s a horrible thing to realise, that he likes someone as likeable and bright and untouchable as Seokmin. But as the insect shadows fester on him and bite through his skin, he realises he does like Seokmin. He burns with the knowledge, and the sun tries to turn him to ash, and at that moment he wishes that the lake would burst its banks and wash over him, drown him, swallow him whole.
***
Minghao learns to kiss Seokmin by a swimming pool.
It’s someone’s party, someone rich enough to have a swimming pool, and Minghao shouldn’t really be there. Neither should Seokmin. Not that their parents would mind or anything like that, but neither of them are there because they want to be. They’re there because everyone else is. And because there’s alcohol.
It’s the alcohol that’s making Minghao act like he is now, clinging to Seokmin like he’s the only thing stopping him from falling. In a way, he is - Minghao wouldn’t really have anyone else to talk to if Seokmin weren’t there. They try to dance in the living room to the horrible music for a bit, but then Seokmin pulls Minghao close and whispers,
“Do you want to get out of here?”
and Minghao has never agreed to anything faster.
They push past throngs of couples and obnoxious drunk boys to slip out to where the pool is. It’s quieter, but something in Minghao’s head buzzes as he walks around the pool with Seokmin.
He’s used to the thrumming ache of liking Seokmin without being liked back. He’s had a good two years of practice. He knows, really, that he wouldn’t sacrifice their friendship for anything - a thousand kisses would never be worth the risk of losing out on Seokmin’s bright smile. But in moments like this, where it’s just them, the ache turns into a hope, which turns into a longing, which turns into a rush of affection that almost suffocates Minghao.
So that is what he’s thinking about as he walks with Seokmin. Unfortunately, he’s so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice when he’s falling forwards.
He hears the splash before he realises that he’s the one in the water. He’s drenched from head to toe and starting to shiver - the pool’s much colder than he was expecting it to be.
Seokmin throws his head back and laughs, the full moon makes his laugh sound brighter. Seokmin moves to the edge of the pool, holding out a hand for Minghao to take, and Minghao - well, he grabs Seokmin’s hand and pulls him in the water.
Minghao giggles when Seokmin resurfaces, shaking like a dog and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He whines a little as he insists,
“That wasn’t funny, Minghao!”
“Oh come on. It was a little bit, don’t you think?”
“You’re insufferable, Minghao.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” Seokmin retaliates, crowding him against a corner of the pool. “You are.”
Suddenly, Minghao gets the feeling that he might not be drunk in this rich kid’s swimming pool. He must have just ascended, and that’s why Seokmin is looking at him like this. His eyes shining, drops of water falling from his hair, looking at Minghao like-
“You’re really insufferable, Minghao,” he says, his breath cold on Minghao’s lips.
“I’m not as bad as you,” Minghao mumbles. “You keep looking at me like- like-”
“Like what?”
Minghao gulps. He takes a deep breath and-
Seokmin kisses him, ever so gently. His hands are awkwardly gripping Minghao’s T-shirt, and it seems like he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Minghao takes over. He wraps his arms around Seokmin’s middle, bringing one hand to the back of his neck, and starts kissing him properly.
Minghao read somewhere that the heart of a mouse beats so fast that it doesn’t even sound like it’s beating at all. He thinks he’s feeling something similar, like his heart is beating so fast he’s not even sure he has one. All he has is Seokmin on him, around him. The alcohol is buzzing through his veins, and part of him is panicking that someone’s going to catch them - and yet he thinks, as the sharp chlorine stings at his eyes and nose, that this feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Minghao wants to kiss Seokmin. He wants to drag Seokmin into the pool with him, to let Seokmin fill his eyes and the water fill his ears, and he wants to taste the chlorine on Seokmin’s lips and never surface again.
***
Minghao learns that he loves Seokmin by the sea.
They’re at the beach, on one of the little trips they take together sometimes. Not as a couple - he and Seokmin have been hovering in the pleasant haze of undefined togetherness ever since they kissed in that pool. They haven’t said any important nebulous words, they haven’t tried to put meaning to anything, but they enjoy existing by each other’s sides and holding each other, so that’s all that matters. And honestly, Minghao doesn’t really mind it. He would rather have Seokmin this way, clandestine and confused, than go back to the tender ache of liking him from afar.
So they don’t call it love. And yet, something feels a little different as they walk along the beach.
Seokmin looks beautiful today. There’s something so unrestrained and boundless in his joy that Minghao wants to keep it under lock and key, to make sure that nothing can ever spoil it. Seokmin walks along the beach with a joy so delightful that the sun can’t help but love him, kissing his face and bathing him in splendour. He stops every so often to pick up a shell and show it to Minghao, pointing out the patterns and colours with his fingers, which Minghao has almost memorised now. Whenever he speaks in his honeyed tones, he speaks like he’s saying something secret, something just for them, and Minghao will never tire of that. Even if he’s pretty sure that Seokmin can’t think of him the way he thinks of Seokmin, he will never tire of thinking that what they have is special and different. And maybe it is - under the vast rosy sky, with nobody but the endless sea to guide them, anything feels possible.
Seokmin is beautiful. But that’s not what makes Minghao realise. He’s always known that Seokmin is beautiful. What makes him realise is when they stop to gaze at the rolling waves and Seokmin sighs deeply. Minghao isn’t used to hearing that from him, so he turns to see what the matter is. But nothing’s the matter. Seokmin’s just looking out to sea, and he keeps looking out as he says,
“I wish I could stay like this forever, Minghao. Just us, the sun, the sea. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?”
And that’s the moment when Minghao realises, because his answer is nothing but a deep and resounding yes. He wants Seokmin around all the time. Sometimes, he’s not sure he wants anyone else around at all. Nobody else can make him feel this light and peaceful. Nobody else can make breathing air feel this easy. It’s only Seokmin, with all his doubts and stubbornness and shyness, that can make him feel what the sea must feel when it’s caressed by the sun or guided by the moon.
He takes a deep breath, letting the salt-strung air and the presence of Seokmin fill him up. Seokmin is looking at the sea, and he’s looking at Seokmin, and, without meaning for anyone to hear, he whispers, “I love you.”
And he looks to the sea and he thinks, I love him.
And he looks to the sea and he thinks, Come and get me. I dare you to get me, to swallow me up and drown me. But I don’t think you can. I don’t think that you, with all your brutal power, would ever be able to contain my love for him.
[FILL] let the tide in
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: friends to lovers(?), alcohol, drowning used as a metaphor
Permission to remix: Yes
Word count: 1791
dear ki, i probably shouldn’t be doing this when the prompt has already been filled so well but this poem has haunted me so! here we are, with no plot but lots of vibes
***
- Nizar Qabbani
- Richard Siken
***
Minghao learns that he likes Seokmin by a lake.
It’s a school biology trip, and they’re sitting on the lakeside, using little nets to look for fish or plants or insects or whatever. Minghao’s already forgotten what they’re supposed to be doing. The sun glares on the back of his neck, like he’s being punished for something, and the dry grass irritates his legs. The air is teeming with insects; Minghao hasn’t seen any, but he can feel the shadows of them crawl over his skin. He shifts uncomfortably, looking over at Seokmin, his partner for the project. Seokmin is actually bent over the lake, moving the net around, discomfort be damned. Rays of sunlight crown him from behind and highlight the focus in his eyes, like he’ll coerce a fish into the net by sheer force of will.
“Why are you doing this?” Minghao asks.
“Doing what?” Seokmin replies, briefly glancing at him.
“Trying. Nobody else is. They’ve given up.”
“You never know, we could catch something!”
And isn’t that Seokmin all over? Trying when nobody else would? Helping when nobody else would? Befriending Minghao when nobody else would? If there was one thing that Minghao knows about his friend, it’s that he would only stop when he had enough, not when anyone else did.
Even so, Minghao doesn’t want him to waste his time.
“I’m not sure we’re actually going to-”
“Shh! I think I feel something!”
Minghao scrambles closer to Seokmin, watching the net intently. Seokmin’s hand is clenched tight on the handle like he’s drowning, like he’s the one struggling in the water. Minghao thinks he could memorise the shape of his hands; he isn’t quite there yet, but one day he could commit the ridges and valleys of them to memory.
“Well? Did you get anything?” Minghao asks.
Seokmin’s grip loosens. He turns to Minghao and smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he whispers, like there’s something to apologise for. Minghao just smiles back.
Seokmin takes the net out of the water, looks around furtively to check nobody’s looking, and then puts it on the ground next to him. He stretches his arms out, tilting his head back to let the sun kiss his face, and if Minghao’s heart were a kite, it would be soaring right now with Seokmin to guide it.
He’s not used to this. He’s been friends with Seokmin for some time now, but he’s had an enduring heaviness in his core for as long as he’s been alive, and he’s not used to Seokmin making it lighter with his gentle smile. Minghao isn’t sure, but he thinks he knows this feeling - like he would know a friend of a friend, someone he’s heard about but never seen.
Minghao likes Seokmin. It’s a horrible thing to realise, that he likes someone as likeable and bright and untouchable as Seokmin. But as the insect shadows fester on him and bite through his skin, he realises he does like Seokmin. He burns with the knowledge, and the sun tries to turn him to ash, and at that moment he wishes that the lake would burst its banks and wash over him, drown him, swallow him whole.
***
Minghao learns to kiss Seokmin by a swimming pool.
It’s someone’s party, someone rich enough to have a swimming pool, and Minghao shouldn’t really be there. Neither should Seokmin. Not that their parents would mind or anything like that, but neither of them are there because they want to be. They’re there because everyone else is. And because there’s alcohol.
It’s the alcohol that’s making Minghao act like he is now, clinging to Seokmin like he’s the only thing stopping him from falling. In a way, he is - Minghao wouldn’t really have anyone else to talk to if Seokmin weren’t there. They try to dance in the living room to the horrible music for a bit, but then Seokmin pulls Minghao close and whispers,
“Do you want to get out of here?”
and Minghao has never agreed to anything faster.
They push past throngs of couples and obnoxious drunk boys to slip out to where the pool is. It’s quieter, but something in Minghao’s head buzzes as he walks around the pool with Seokmin.
He’s used to the thrumming ache of liking Seokmin without being liked back. He’s had a good two years of practice. He knows, really, that he wouldn’t sacrifice their friendship for anything - a thousand kisses would never be worth the risk of losing out on Seokmin’s bright smile. But in moments like this, where it’s just them, the ache turns into a hope, which turns into a longing, which turns into a rush of affection that almost suffocates Minghao.
So that is what he’s thinking about as he walks with Seokmin. Unfortunately, he’s so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice when he’s falling forwards.
He hears the splash before he realises that he’s the one in the water. He’s drenched from head to toe and starting to shiver - the pool’s much colder than he was expecting it to be.
Seokmin throws his head back and laughs, the full moon makes his laugh sound brighter. Seokmin moves to the edge of the pool, holding out a hand for Minghao to take, and Minghao - well, he grabs Seokmin’s hand and pulls him in the water.
Minghao giggles when Seokmin resurfaces, shaking like a dog and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He whines a little as he insists,
“That wasn’t funny, Minghao!”
“Oh come on. It was a little bit, don’t you think?”
“You’re insufferable, Minghao.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” Seokmin retaliates, crowding him against a corner of the pool. “You are.”
Suddenly, Minghao gets the feeling that he might not be drunk in this rich kid’s swimming pool. He must have just ascended, and that’s why Seokmin is looking at him like this. His eyes shining, drops of water falling from his hair, looking at Minghao like-
“You’re really insufferable, Minghao,” he says, his breath cold on Minghao’s lips.
“I’m not as bad as you,” Minghao mumbles. “You keep looking at me like- like-”
“Like what?”
Minghao gulps. He takes a deep breath and-
Seokmin kisses him, ever so gently. His hands are awkwardly gripping Minghao’s T-shirt, and it seems like he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Minghao takes over. He wraps his arms around Seokmin’s middle, bringing one hand to the back of his neck, and starts kissing him properly.
Minghao read somewhere that the heart of a mouse beats so fast that it doesn’t even sound like it’s beating at all. He thinks he’s feeling something similar, like his heart is beating so fast he’s not even sure he has one. All he has is Seokmin on him, around him. The alcohol is buzzing through his veins, and part of him is panicking that someone’s going to catch them - and yet he thinks, as the sharp chlorine stings at his eyes and nose, that this feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Minghao wants to kiss Seokmin. He wants to drag Seokmin into the pool with him, to let Seokmin fill his eyes and the water fill his ears, and he wants to taste the chlorine on Seokmin’s lips and never surface again.
***
Minghao learns that he loves Seokmin by the sea.
They’re at the beach, on one of the little trips they take together sometimes. Not as a couple - he and Seokmin have been hovering in the pleasant haze of undefined togetherness ever since they kissed in that pool. They haven’t said any important nebulous words, they haven’t tried to put meaning to anything, but they enjoy existing by each other’s sides and holding each other, so that’s all that matters. And honestly, Minghao doesn’t really mind it. He would rather have Seokmin this way, clandestine and confused, than go back to the tender ache of liking him from afar.
So they don’t call it love. And yet, something feels a little different as they walk along the beach.
Seokmin looks beautiful today. There’s something so unrestrained and boundless in his joy that Minghao wants to keep it under lock and key, to make sure that nothing can ever spoil it. Seokmin walks along the beach with a joy so delightful that the sun can’t help but love him, kissing his face and bathing him in splendour. He stops every so often to pick up a shell and show it to Minghao, pointing out the patterns and colours with his fingers, which Minghao has almost memorised now. Whenever he speaks in his honeyed tones, he speaks like he’s saying something secret, something just for them, and Minghao will never tire of that. Even if he’s pretty sure that Seokmin can’t think of him the way he thinks of Seokmin, he will never tire of thinking that what they have is special and different. And maybe it is - under the vast rosy sky, with nobody but the endless sea to guide them, anything feels possible.
Seokmin is beautiful. But that’s not what makes Minghao realise. He’s always known that Seokmin is beautiful. What makes him realise is when they stop to gaze at the rolling waves and Seokmin sighs deeply. Minghao isn’t used to hearing that from him, so he turns to see what the matter is. But nothing’s the matter. Seokmin’s just looking out to sea, and he keeps looking out as he says,
“I wish I could stay like this forever, Minghao. Just us, the sun, the sea. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?”
And that’s the moment when Minghao realises, because his answer is nothing but a deep and resounding yes. He wants Seokmin around all the time. Sometimes, he’s not sure he wants anyone else around at all. Nobody else can make him feel this light and peaceful. Nobody else can make breathing air feel this easy. It’s only Seokmin, with all his doubts and stubbornness and shyness, that can make him feel what the sea must feel when it’s caressed by the sun or guided by the moon.
He takes a deep breath, letting the salt-strung air and the presence of Seokmin fill him up. Seokmin is looking at the sea, and he’s looking at Seokmin, and, without meaning for anyone to hear, he whispers, “I love you.”
And he looks to the sea and he thinks, I love him.
And he looks to the sea and he thinks, Come and get me. I dare you to get me, to swallow me up and drown me. But I don’t think you can. I don’t think that you, with all your brutal power, would ever be able to contain my love for him.