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Seungcheol stares at him some more. “There… there was a portal in my room. I landed here and… uh. I smacked the shit out of my head on your side table.”
“A… portal?”
Seungcheol nods, and he’s still holding Jihoon’s face in tight hands, like he might slip away any second. Jihoon can’t let go either, anchored to a time he lost. He wipes some of the dried blood from Seungcheol’s forehead with a harsh thumb to look at the cut. It’s thin and scabbing over already, which is a relief, at least.
He can’t see Seungcheol die twice. He really wouldn’t be able to survive it a second time.
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OR: Many years ago, Jihoon agreed to one date, and then another, and then many others. Now, with his husband six feet under, he thinks of another Jihoon agreeing to the same thing.
OR, REDUX: What is grief if not love persevering?
Bookmarked by asitr
07 Aug 2026
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Alejandra has spent the last two years pining after a complete stranger in the cafe next door to her place of work. Nora has spent the last two years getting her favorite drink every morning she has a shift at the parlor.
Bookmarked by asitr
31 Jul 2026
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“Are you asking me if I’ve ever been in love?”
Chan hums. “I guess I am,” he muses, gentle and thoughtful. In that kind of sleepy way he does, when his words start to slur together. Leaning into the question fully now, just tired enough to let himself mean it, brain gone all dazed and wobbly.
Jihoon could lie. It’s sitting right on the tip of his tongue, the prepared response whenever someone asks who his songs are about. Memorized, carefully constructed, company approved. He could, but Chan’s heard it a million times over.
“Of course I have,” Jihoon says softly.
Or: Jihoon's heart spills from his chest into Chan's arms.
Bookmarked by asitr
24 Jul 2026