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Minho is on a mission to please his husband. He calls it a ‘mission’ because it’s a special occasion and he has a ten step plan to make sure this day goes perfectly, from start to finish.
Today is their anniversary.
They’ve always preferred simpler events over ostentatious plans, so the idea for today is nothing more than a picnic. It’s a good thing they jumped the gun on their papers before doing the long and arduous work of hunting down a venue and committing to all their wedding schemes. They hadn’t saved up nearly enough money for a spring wedding and Jisung was impatient.
When Minho proposed – and it wasn’t even a proper proposal per se, Minho, in the quiet of the night inside their shared blankets had brought up the thought of marriage and it was enough to set Jisung alight. So much so that for a split second, Minho was convinced they hadn’t turned the lights off after all. When Minho proposed, so wholeheartedly devoted and having that devotion returned, Jisung dragged him out of their room and to the courthouse in their sweats, called Chan to be their witness at fuck all o’clock in the morning as they waited on the curb for the darn place to open.
The next morning, they were the first couple to be wed.
Suffice to say, a wedding had been the furthest thing from their minds. They were married for god’s sake. It didn’t matter for shit if there was no ceremony.
But you know, friends are friends and Hyunjin alone had thrown such a fuss that he couldn’t celebrate their ‘union’ and with Changbin backing him up, they caved quickly. It’s quite the rollercoaster having eight groomsmen and equally as many best men involved themselves in your marriage but Jisung wouldn’t have it any other way. He was so tickled by how much the others seemed to care.
Nevertheless, they celebrate their anniversary on their legal day – not because either of them are particularly reverent towards the law, but more because it’s theirs. In effect, they get two anniversaries: one for themselves and one to celebrate with all their friends.
So today is theirs.
It sets Minho grinning as he prepares their lunch. He’s compiled a list of all of Jisung’s favourites and has been working in advance. Today will be perfect .
He has a wellington sealed and cooking, vegetables chopped and ready for the mala xiang guo Jisung said he wanted to try and, most importantly, cheesecake resting in the fridge. He baked it last night and once he checks that it’s all set, he’ll cut two slices and package them into some nice glassware to carefully transport to the park.
It takes just shy of two hours to complete the entire menu he’d planned out. Quick and efficient, if he does say so himself. He packs just enough for lunch and an afternoon snack into a new set of tupperware, and secures the tupperware into the cute woven wicker they bought specifically for these occasions, along with a healthy amount of drinks, a collection of beloved books, and the softest blanket in the house. Jisung’s favourite, of course.
He can’t wait to tell Jisung about the absurd things that left Seungmin’s mouth yesterday, about the high-production five hour megafauna video essay he happened upon, about his mum calling and the project he got handed that he’s so excited about. He loves talking to Jisung. It’s one of Minho’s favourite things in the entire world, right next to Jisung’s smile and Jisung’s entire existence and the Privilege and Gift of Being Able to Love Han Jisung.
Minho earns a few looks lugging his weighted wicker around the city, naturally, but he smiles and hefts it higher each time, meeting everyone with a disarming smile. It doesn’t take too long to arrive at their agreed upon location. It’s been a while since Minho’s come, but Jisung spends a significant chunk of his time here, and well Jisung would never go where Minho couldn’t reach him.
It’s a good day out, like it almost always is this time of year. In all eight years of their marriage, they’ve never had an anniversary with bad weather, even if all the days surrounding it are caught in flash storms or a rainy spell. Their own spot of brightness. Our love is a miracle , Jisung liked to say. Look at us, protecting the tristate area from the woes of the climate crisis.
Even now, their love is an enduring form of magic. The sun is bright, the wind not too harsh and not a chance in hell of rain interrupting their perfect day.
Minho finds the entrance to the park through muscle memory, taking the well worn path to the spot where he knows he’ll find Jisung waiting.
And there he is, his husband, laying in a patch of beautiful sunlight, every bit as deserving of Minho’s love as the day he first laid eyes on him. Minho places the wicker carefully down on the grass and kneels beside him.
His Jisung.
His husband.
His love.
“Hi sweetheart.”
Minho presses his lips to the headstone and imagines he’s kissing Jisung’s forehead. He loved to kiss him there. He thinks he always will.
His Jisung, his love. Neverending, in life and in death. He swore it, in his vows – not ‘til death do us part’ but ‘in sickness and in health, from life and into death, until death reunite us again.’ He’d said it then and he could see it Jisung’s eyes that he knew he meant it. He did. He does.
Married for eight years. Lost him in three. Love him for a lifetime. He never plans to stop. He promised.
It’s easier these days. To go about his life like he isn’t missing half his soul, his happiness, his heart. He keeps Jisung in his heart, talks to the air while he watches documentaries like he can hear. He remembers Jisung, in the big ways and the little. He remembers his life, his passion, all the music he left behind. But he also remembers his favourite species of fish and his order at the chinese place and the way he’d close his eyes when he hiccuped. It becomes easier – to live with all these memories of Jisung.
Still, some days it’s lonely. Some days he searches for the warmth of Jisung’s embrace, knowing he won’t find it. Wanting to hear his voice, his laugh. Wanting to know he’s happy, wherever he is, and not being able to find out if he is.
“I missed you.” He allows himself to rest against the headstone. He’ll clean it soon enough, lay down his offerings of food and light some incense and the chocolate scented candles that Jisung would much prefer anyway. He’ll call Chan up to let him know he’s doing okay . He’ll do his annual check-up with his grief counsellor tomorrow. But today, right now, he wants to talk to Jisung.
That’s always been one of his favourite things, after all.