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“Have you ever thought about eloping?”
“Oh, constantly,” Jooyeon answered without looking up from his phone. “The whole time we were in Paris, I was fighting the urge to throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and take off running. But then I realised neither of us speak French, so that probably wouldn’t work out.”
Jiseok snorted. “I’m sure we could have learned. Look at this.” He leaned over the airplane seat console to shove his phone under Jooyeon’s nose. On his screen was a news article with the headline, Lawmakers in Thailand overwhelmingly approve a bill to legalize same-sex marriage.
Jooyeon blinked at it. “Damn,” he said. “Lucky them.” He glanced sideways at Jiseok. “What thoughts are you thinking in that little pudding head of yours?”
“No thoughts, my dearest,” Jiseok said sweetly, slumping back into his seat to put his phone on flight mode as the lady on the intercom kindly asked them to do so. “It’s not finalised yet anyway, there’s still one more layer of parliament to go through or something.”
“Damn,” Jooyeon repeated. “Maybe next time?”
“Maybe next time,” Jiseok agreed with a giggle that had no business being as cute as it was.
But that was Jiseok in a nutshell. The cutest, most beautiful, most incredible boy in the world, and if the planets ever aligned to make it possible, Jooyeon would marry him in a heartbeat.
From when they got to the hotel in Bangkok until they had to leave for the venue tomorrow morning, they were basically free to do what they liked. After not getting anywhere near enough sleep the night before and acquiring a neck crick while sleeping on the plane, Jooyeon was keen to crawl into bed and spend that free time snoozing
Jiseok had other ideas.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” he begged, snaking his arms around Jooyeon’s middle and tugging as if to physically haul him off the bed. “I was reading about this market stall that sells really good Thai chicken. I want to try it!”
“Then go try it,” Jooyeon groaned into the pillow. “Ask the others to go with you. Ask the manager to go with you.”
“Joo-yeon-ie,” Jiseok fake-sobbed, giving up on tugging Jooyeon for a moment to instead bury his face in his back. “Please come with me! I don’t want to go with anyone else, I want to go with you.”
Jooyeon could hear the pout in his voice, so he knew it wasn’t the wisest move to lift his face from the pillow and glance over his shoulder at Jiseok. But he did anyway, and as soon as he saw those wide, pleading eyes, protruding bottom lip, and the way his cheek was squished against Jooyeon’s side, he knew his chicken was cooked.
And that was how Jooyeon ended up in a crowded market street in Bangkok, hand in hand with Jiseok to, more than anything, make sure they didn’t get separated. It was nighttime, but everything was lit up and glowing. A surging tide of bodies undulated through the narrow aisles between the stalls. Hawkers advertised their fare and wares in flowing syllables that Jooyeon couldn’t parse. A dizzying medley of scents and aromas cut through the stickily humid air, infiltrating Jooyeon’s nose and almost making him want to sneeze from the sharpness of the spices and definitely provoking his stomach to rumbling.
Jiseok found the chicken stall he was looking for, and Jooyeon complained about his legs hurting as they stood in line. Once they got their food, they found a less-crowded side alley to dip into, crouching against the wall as they ate, instinctively pressed shoulder to shoulder even if it was way too hot to be sharing body heat.
The chicken was as good as Jiseok had promised, at least, but by the time Jooyeon finished eating, he felt like he’d walked through a hot shower spray, his clothes and hair sticking to him with sweat. The air itself seemed to be sweating.
“Feels like the whole city is stuck in a sauna,” he complained.
“Yeah, a bit,” Jiseok laughed. “Alright, I’m done. Let’s get back to the hotel.”
“Finally,” Jooyeon sighed.
They had to fight their way through the crowd again to get to where they needed to go, so it was back into the market tides for them. They didn’t make it very far, however, before Jiseok stopped suddenly, almost causing Jooyeon to walk straight into him.
“Look,” he said, gaze pointed at a sign just a little way ahead of them.
Jooyeon looked. He couldn’t read Thai, but he recognised the English words “Fun Wedding!” and the rainbow flag hanging beneath, fluttering in the warm night breeze.
“Having thoughts about eloping again?” Jooyeon asked.
“Maybe,” Jiseok answered. “What do you think?”
“I mean, it’s not a real wedding, is it?”
Jiseok tilted his head, smiling. “Would it bother you if it were?”
“No,” said Jooyeon. “I’d prefer it. But I’ll settle for a practice run, if that’s what you want.”
It made Jooyeon’s heart do something funny in his chest to see the way Jiseok’s expression melted into the purest look of fondness Jooyeon could possibly envision. Jiseok’s eyes reflected the colourful neon lights, his skin was radiant, and though he was as sweaty and gross as Jooyeon was right now, he was sweaty and gross in an incomprehensibly beautiful way. Jooyeon desperately wanted to kiss him.
But before he could act on that desire, Jiseok leaned close to his ear and said, “Practice makes progress, right?” and then set off again, tugging Jooyeon towards where the sign pointed them to go.
Jooyeon could only grin and squeeze Jiseok’s hand tighter and follow his bobbing head through the crowd.
The sign led them down an alley and through a curtain of beads into a small reception area, appointed with glittering gold decorations and a floor fan that blew blessedly cold air across them as they stepped inside. There was a reception desk with a small woman behind it, who greeted them as they entered and said something (asked them something?) in rapid-fire Thai that neither of them had a hope of understanding.
“Um,” said Jiseok, and then in English: “Wedding?” He pointed between Jooyeon and himself. “Us?”
The woman grinned widely and nodded rapidly and said some more things that neither of them understood, emerging from behind the desk to usher them through another beaded curtain into a small room with a candlelit Buddhist altar.
The woman disappeared from the room for a moment but was back before either of them could wonder where she’d gone, a little book in her hand. She grabbed their wrists and maneouvred them into facing each other with hands clasped, then stood before the altar and started to read aloud from the book. More words that neither of them could understand. All they could do was stand there bewildered and befuddled and look at each other and try desperately not to burst into laughter as Jooyeon crossed and uncrossed his eyes.
Soon enough, the woman finished her spiel and lowered the book, indicating Jooyeon with a slight bow. “Vows,” she said in English.
“I didn’t prepare anything,” he said uncertainly.
“What, you can’t improvise?” Jiseok teased. “Come on. You’ve said things about me on camera that sounded enough like wedding vows.”
Miraculously, Jooyeon couldn’t recall what those things might have been, but he swallowed and tried his best.
“Kwak Jiseok,” he said, “from the moment I met you, I knew we would be together for the rest of our lives. I didn’t know exactly what that meant at the time, or how close we’d actually get, but… I knew that much. Like a premonition.” He smiled. “Whether we ever get married for real or not, I want to stay with you forever. I want to be by your side. I want you to be by my side. In life, on stage, near, far, wherever you are.”
“Are you seriously quoting Celine Dion right now?”
“I’m not done.” Jooyeon paused, then grinned. “Okay, maybe I am done. You get the point, don’t you?” He squeezed Jiseok’s hands. “I love you. The day I leave you will be the day I die, and even then, I hope we find each other in the next life, and the life after that, and the life after that, so we can be together until the sun blows up and eats the planet or whatever.”
Jiseok snorted. “Romantic.”
Jooyeon winked, then nodded at the woman to show he was done. She turned to Jiseok. “Vows?”
The shoe was on the other foot now. Jiseok shifted anxiously, suddenly avoiding Jooyeon’s gaze. “Ah,” he said. “I didn’t think this far ahead.”
“Practice makes progress,” Jooyeon reminded him.
Jiseok cut him a shrewd look, then took a deep breath. “Lee Jooyeon,” he began, “You’re the most annoying person I know, but I guess I must be a masochist because I kinda like being annoyed by you.” His whole face lit up as he grinned. “I never could have imagined anyone would ever look at me the way you do, Jooyeon. I never imagined anyone would love me that way. I never—” Abruptly, his eyes grew glassy. Jooyeon didn’t even have the heart to make fun of him, feeling something tug in his own chest.
Swallowing hard and blinking several times, Jiseok continued in a shaky voice: “I never expected to ever feel the way I feel for you. It hasn’t always been easy, and it won’t always be easy, but…” His grip on Jooyeon’s hands was almost painful. “It’s worth it. And it’ll always be worth it, because we’ll be together.”
“Always,” Jooyeon agreed in a whisper.
Jiseok took another shaky breath and nodded at the woman to let her know he was done.
The woman gave another spiel of words they didn’t understand, then reached into a brass pot behind her for a handful of dried petals, throwing them over their heads and enveloping them in a strong, musky, slightly spicy smell that once again almost made Jooyeon sneeze.
“Now kiss,” she said.
The directive was pretty clear. Jiseok had successfully forced his tears back into their ducts, but his eyes were still so glossy and dark and mesmerising, his face and expression soft, everything about him so familiar but never tiring, never boring. Just as Jooyeon could never get sick of breathing air, he could never get sick of anything about Jiseok. He needed him like air. In fact, he thought he could live without air so long as he had Jiseok.
The best part was, he knew the feeling was mutual.
Their lips met in a kiss.
“That was weirdly expensive considering we didn’t even get rings,” Jiseok complained as they got back to the hotel room. Jooyeon had never been more thankful for air conditioning.
“That’s okay,” said Jooyeon, reaching to catch Jiseok’s hand before he could proceed further into the room. He cradled it in both his own hands, lifting it to his lips to speak softly against his knuckles. “Next time we’ll get rings. And the time after that, too. But for now,” he placed a kiss on Jiseok’s ring finger, “you can have this.”
Jiseok giggled and stepped closer. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted his right hand to where Jooyeon clasped his left, leaning in to adorn Jooyeon’s ring finger with a matching kiss.
“And just how many weddings are we having?”
Jooyeon smiled and kissed Jiseok’s hands again. “At least one in every country we visit.”