난 매일 매일 그대의 하룰 웃게 하는 일
i did it i wrote wedding fic and i only blubbered for like a week over it ;____;!!
after i met you, i found something to do
taekwoon is well-versed in the literary connotations of love. he knows the words and the poems and the feature-length films, and he’s contributed more than his fair share of lyrics to catchy pop songs. it all seems so shallow now as taekwoon stands against the backdrop of a sunset on a busan beach. every scene, every stanza, every verse feels insignificant in the wake of this moment, hollow caricatures that lack the sincerity of the real thing.
the way the stories tell it, there should be a dramatic climax, a moment of weakness, a fight or flight. or perhaps a well-practiced speech on the sanctity of love, a desperation, a crippling, all-consuming love. there should be star-crossed lovers and broken promises and a redemption arc. there should be winding country roads and mid-life crises and consequences of waiting too long.
but taekwoon’s love story goes a little more like this: hakyeon walks into taekwoon’s life and carves out a crude, hakyeon-shaped hole in his heart. the edges, at first, are sharp and painful to touch, but hakyeon patiently sands them down until he can fit himself neatly inside. he lurks in the corners of taekwoon’s mind, offering opinions and voicing them loudly even when taekwoon doesn’t want to listen. he warms him with cups of jasmine tea and sweets squirreled away in the back of the cupboards in their dorm. taekwoon has never been the easiest man to love, but he’s tried to make it easier with reassuring touches and small smiles just because.
it’s the small parts that sum up the whole, the kind that you have to step back to appreciate, the journeys that have to be taken one step at a time. they’ve crossed oceans and continents, but they’ve always been together, not more than a few breaths apart. it hasn’t been the smoothest journey, but it’s been theirs. it’s been long nights and stoic silences filled with anger and frustration, but in the aftermath, when the smoke has cleared and their emotions settle, their first thought is still to turn to each other.
and today, hakyeon is standing in front of him, resplendent in his white suit, fidgeting with his lapels. he smiles nervously when taekwoon catches him, chewing on his lower lip as the priest reads off a short sermon. it’s not the most formal of ceremonies, so taekwoon has no qualms in reaching out and squeezing his wrist lightly, only letting go when it’s hakyeon’s turn to speak.
“ah,” hakyeon says with a laugh. “i know it’s kind of cold, so i’ll try to keep it short.”
everyone chuckles appreciatively, and hakyeon fumbles around his pocket for his vows. he smoothes out his paper on his thigh, grinning, abashed, when everyone laughs.
“um,” he begins, clearing his throat. “taekwoon-ah, the day is finally here. we’ve had a lot of d-days, but i think i’m going to love this one the most. it’s the one i’ve lost the least amount of sleep over anyway.”
taekwoon laughs, surprised, ducking his head and swiping his lips with his tongue. hakyeon is grinning at him when he straightens, eyes curved delightedly into crescent moons. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says sincerely. “you are my anchor and my guiding light, and the storm that blows me out to sea. you always find me when i’m lost and bring me back home, and i don’t want to walk the world without you. i promise to carry you as you’ve carried me and to love you as you’ve loved me. i promise to never lose sight of us even when it gets dark or when times get hard.” he takes a breath and releases it slowly, carefully, in the time of a full half beat. “i am yours as you are mine,” he finishes simply, already tucking his notes back into his pocket.
the priest nods at hakyeon and turns to taekwoon, gesturing for him to speak.
he looks down at his own crinkled scrap of paper, gripping it tightly in his hands. taekwoon knows the speech by heart, which is good because his tongue feels large and awkward and the words swim dangerously in front of his eyes. he mumbles through the first few words before the wind starts to pick up, and his voice is lost to the ocean. he swallows and stuffs the paper back into his pocket, taking hakyeon’s hands instead.
his heart beats loudly in his chest, and his palms are sweating from nerves, but hakyeon is solid and there and he smiles at taekwoon with the same adoring wonder as when taekwoon had first asked him to dinner, when hakyeon had first taken his hand and kissed him without preamble, the same as when hakyeon had pulled back and looked away, caught between embarrassment and satisfaction. it’s the same smile as when taekwoon had gotten down on one knee in a park not far from hakyeon’s home in changwon and promised him that he would somehow find a way to give hakyeon forever. it’s that smile, that sweet, pleased upturn of lips paired with eyes brimming with hope and an absurd amount of love that makes taekwoon’s breath catch and his shoulders tense, and he has to exhale slowly to center himself.
the priest waits for him to continue, and hakyeon squeezes his hands, patient as ever, and taekwoon opens his mouth to say, “hakyeon-ah, it’s been eight years since we first met. i can’t remember how or where, but i remember daewon introducing us and telling you that i was a cold bastard.” hakyeon laughs, a surprised thing, and taekwoon knows he remembers the tiny practice room with the piano that seemed too big for such a small space. “you said, ‘i think taekwoon can tell me what he’s like himself,’ and you said you’ve heard me singing before and that i had a nice voice, but i didn’t know you or what your talent was, so i didn’t say anything. i thought, when you said good-bye, that would be it.”
hakyeon’s chuckle is soft, and he disentangles a hand to stifle it. his cheeks are flushed, from the wind or happiness, taekwoon can’t be sure, so he continues, “but you came back the next day, and you asked if i could teach you how to sing. i told you no, so you asked if we could practice together, and i said yes. two years later, we stayed late after practice and you asked me if i thought we could debut together. i said i didn’t know because i didn’t think i would be able to. i wasn’t improving much, but you took me to our practice room, and you asked me to sing for you.”
he pauses and wonders if he should go on. it seemed like a good idea at the time to include the memory of hakyeon sitting next to him on the piano bench, feeling out the keys to the simple duet taekwoon had composed for them months before, but now it’s almost too intimate to share the moment that passed, the one where hakyeon had stopped playing and looked at taekwoon and said, “i don’t know if i can debut without you,” whispered like a confession, like a secret tucked into a truth, and taekwoon had realized, two years slow, that perhaps they hadn’t ever been just friends.
taekwoon looks down at their hands, swallowing at the sight of the thin silver band on hakyeon’s left ring finger, the one that he’s worn ever since taekwoon gave it to him three years ago. there are a lot of things about them that taekwoon doesn’t want to tell, that he wants to keep to himself, so he skips the part where he had placed his hands on his knees and realized that he was blinking back tears because he was terrified of disappointing the man beside him, because hakyeon was his friend who he loved and there were dreams that taekwoon tried not think about it in case he lost. he skips the part where hakyeon tucked his chin into taekwoon’s shoulder and steadied his shaking hands and said quietly, “i don’t want to debut without you.”
“you were by my side then,” he chooses to say instead. “and you’ve been by me ever since. you walked into my life, and you befriended my heart. and, i love you. as i loved you then and more. there is a part of me that doesn’t feel whole when you aren’t around, and i am, selfishly, asking you to stay by me forever, for as long as you can bear. i promise to make you as happy as you have made me and to light your way as brightly as you’ve lit mine. i won’t make you regret marrying me.”
hakyeon’s eyes are watery, but he’s smiling so widely that taekwoon has to glance away because his chest feels much too tight and he lets out a shaky breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.
their priest beams at them, and a quick peek to their small audience tells him that wonshik’s eyeliner is indeed waterproof. (jaehwan attempts to blow his nose quietly, but ends up sounding like a broken foghorn.) the priest presents their rings, and hakyeon slips a simple gold band onto his finger with shaking hands. taekwoon fairs no better and misses once, making hakyeon laugh softly as he tries again and succeeds. it feels good, like finding a missing puzzle piece and relishing in the way it slides into place, perfect and whole, gold over silver, and hakyeon kisses him, nervous and thrilled and unbounded.
taekwoon forgets where they are and kisses him back with equal fervor, because there’s something to knowledge of the commitment to their vows. there’s something to the way hakyeon has his arms around taekwoon’s neck and knowing that taekwoon can have this, can have hakyeon for the rest of his life that makes his heart race and his skin hot, and taekwoon kisses him again and again greedily, until they finally break apart, and hakyeon buries his face into taekwoon’s neck, laughing, embarrassed, at jaehwan’s catcalls. and taekwoon looks at their tiny gathering of family and friends, who beam back at him, and smiles as well.
rolls away in a tsunami of feelings and tears and heart pain.
after i met you, i found something to do
taekwoon is well-versed in the literary connotations of love. he knows the words and the poems and the feature-length films, and he’s contributed more than his fair share of lyrics to catchy pop songs. it all seems so shallow now as taekwoon stands against the backdrop of a sunset on a busan beach. every scene, every stanza, every verse feels insignificant in the wake of this moment, hollow caricatures that lack the sincerity of the real thing.
the way the stories tell it, there should be a dramatic climax, a moment of weakness, a fight or flight. or perhaps a well-practiced speech on the sanctity of love, a desperation, a crippling, all-consuming love. there should be star-crossed lovers and broken promises and a redemption arc. there should be winding country roads and mid-life crises and consequences of waiting too long.
but taekwoon’s love story goes a little more like this: hakyeon walks into taekwoon’s life and carves out a crude, hakyeon-shaped hole in his heart. the edges, at first, are sharp and painful to touch, but hakyeon patiently sands them down until he can fit himself neatly inside. he lurks in the corners of taekwoon’s mind, offering opinions and voicing them loudly even when taekwoon doesn’t want to listen. he warms him with cups of jasmine tea and sweets squirreled away in the back of the cupboards in their dorm. taekwoon has never been the easiest man to love, but he’s tried to make it easier with reassuring touches and small smiles just because.
it’s the small parts that sum up the whole, the kind that you have to step back to appreciate, the journeys that have to be taken one step at a time. they’ve crossed oceans and continents, but they’ve always been together, not more than a few breaths apart. it hasn’t been the smoothest journey, but it’s been theirs. it’s been long nights and stoic silences filled with anger and frustration, but in the aftermath, when the smoke has cleared and their emotions settle, their first thought is still to turn to each other.
and today, hakyeon is standing in front of him, resplendent in his white suit, fidgeting with his lapels. he smiles nervously when taekwoon catches him, chewing on his lower lip as the priest reads off a short sermon. it’s not the most formal of ceremonies, so taekwoon has no qualms in reaching out and squeezing his wrist lightly, only letting go when it’s hakyeon’s turn to speak.
“ah,” hakyeon says with a laugh. “i know it’s kind of cold, so i’ll try to keep it short.”
everyone chuckles appreciatively, and hakyeon fumbles around his pocket for his vows. he smoothes out his paper on his thigh, grinning, abashed, when everyone laughs.
“um,” he begins, clearing his throat. “taekwoon-ah, the day is finally here. we’ve had a lot of d-days, but i think i’m going to love this one the most. it’s the one i’ve lost the least amount of sleep over anyway.”
taekwoon laughs, surprised, ducking his head and swiping his lips with his tongue. hakyeon is grinning at him when he straightens, eyes curved delightedly into crescent moons. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says sincerely. “you are my anchor and my guiding light, and the storm that blows me out to sea. you always find me when i’m lost and bring me back home, and i don’t want to walk the world without you. i promise to carry you as you’ve carried me and to love you as you’ve loved me. i promise to never lose sight of us even when it gets dark or when times get hard.” he takes a breath and releases it slowly, carefully, in the time of a full half beat. “i am yours as you are mine,” he finishes simply, already tucking his notes back into his pocket.
the priest nods at hakyeon and turns to taekwoon, gesturing for him to speak.
he looks down at his own crinkled scrap of paper, gripping it tightly in his hands. taekwoon knows the speech by heart, which is good because his tongue feels large and awkward and the words swim dangerously in front of his eyes. he mumbles through the first few words before the wind starts to pick up, and his voice is lost to the ocean. he swallows and stuffs the paper back into his pocket, taking hakyeon’s hands instead.
his heart beats loudly in his chest, and his palms are sweating from nerves, but hakyeon is solid and there and he smiles at taekwoon with the same adoring wonder as when taekwoon had first asked him to dinner, when hakyeon had first taken his hand and kissed him without preamble, the same as when hakyeon had pulled back and looked away, caught between embarrassment and satisfaction. it’s the same smile as when taekwoon had gotten down on one knee in a park not far from hakyeon’s home in changwon and promised him that he would somehow find a way to give hakyeon forever. it’s that smile, that sweet, pleased upturn of lips paired with eyes brimming with hope and an absurd amount of love that makes taekwoon’s breath catch and his shoulders tense, and he has to exhale slowly to center himself.
the priest waits for him to continue, and hakyeon squeezes his hands, patient as ever, and taekwoon opens his mouth to say, “hakyeon-ah, it’s been eight years since we first met. i can’t remember how or where, but i remember daewon introducing us and telling you that i was a cold bastard.” hakyeon laughs, a surprised thing, and taekwoon knows he remembers the tiny practice room with the piano that seemed too big for such a small space. “you said, ‘i think taekwoon can tell me what he’s like himself,’ and you said you’ve heard me singing before and that i had a nice voice, but i didn’t know you or what your talent was, so i didn’t say anything. i thought, when you said good-bye, that would be it.”
hakyeon’s chuckle is soft, and he disentangles a hand to stifle it. his cheeks are flushed, from the wind or happiness, taekwoon can’t be sure, so he continues, “but you came back the next day, and you asked if i could teach you how to sing. i told you no, so you asked if we could practice together, and i said yes. two years later, we stayed late after practice and you asked me if i thought we could debut together. i said i didn’t know because i didn’t think i would be able to. i wasn’t improving much, but you took me to our practice room, and you asked me to sing for you.”
he pauses and wonders if he should go on. it seemed like a good idea at the time to include the memory of hakyeon sitting next to him on the piano bench, feeling out the keys to the simple duet taekwoon had composed for them months before, but now it’s almost too intimate to share the moment that passed, the one where hakyeon had stopped playing and looked at taekwoon and said, “i don’t know if i can debut without you,” whispered like a confession, like a secret tucked into a truth, and taekwoon had realized, two years slow, that perhaps they hadn’t ever been just friends.
taekwoon looks down at their hands, swallowing at the sight of the thin silver band on hakyeon’s left ring finger, the one that he’s worn ever since taekwoon gave it to him three years ago. there are a lot of things about them that taekwoon doesn’t want to tell, that he wants to keep to himself, so he skips the part where he had placed his hands on his knees and realized that he was blinking back tears because he was terrified of disappointing the man beside him, because hakyeon was his friend who he loved and there were dreams that taekwoon tried not think about it in case he lost. he skips the part where hakyeon tucked his chin into taekwoon’s shoulder and steadied his shaking hands and said quietly, “i don’t want to debut without you.”
“you were by my side then,” he chooses to say instead. “and you’ve been by me ever since. you walked into my life, and you befriended my heart. and, i love you. as i loved you then and more. there is a part of me that doesn’t feel whole when you aren’t around, and i am, selfishly, asking you to stay by me forever, for as long as you can bear. i promise to make you as happy as you have made me and to light your way as brightly as you’ve lit mine. i won’t make you regret marrying me.”
hakyeon’s eyes are watery, but he’s smiling so widely that taekwoon has to glance away because his chest feels much too tight and he lets out a shaky breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.
their priest beams at them, and a quick peek to their small audience tells him that wonshik’s eyeliner is indeed waterproof. (jaehwan attempts to blow his nose quietly, but ends up sounding like a broken foghorn.) the priest presents their rings, and hakyeon slips a simple gold band onto his finger with shaking hands. taekwoon fairs no better and misses once, making hakyeon laugh softly as he tries again and succeeds. it feels good, like finding a missing puzzle piece and relishing in the way it slides into place, perfect and whole, gold over silver, and hakyeon kisses him, nervous and thrilled and unbounded.
taekwoon forgets where they are and kisses him back with equal fervor, because there’s something to knowledge of the commitment to their vows. there’s something to the way hakyeon has his arms around taekwoon’s neck and knowing that taekwoon can have this, can have hakyeon for the rest of his life that makes his heart race and his skin hot, and taekwoon kisses him again and again greedily, until they finally break apart, and hakyeon buries his face into taekwoon’s neck, laughing, embarrassed, at jaehwan’s catcalls. and taekwoon looks at their tiny gathering of family and friends, who beam back at him, and smiles as well.
rolls away in a tsunami of feelings and tears and heart pain.