Work Text:
"Father, if one falls in love with a man, can one still go to heaven?"
In his many years in these hallowed halls, Hu Tianbao has borne witness to many things— proposals, divorces, fights, adultery, funerals— he's gotten used to them, and yet nothing in his years of experience could quite prepare him for this question, nor this scene.
He could recognise that voice in a heartbeat. He's heard it many times in the walls of this very church, a deep and rich voice that blends perfectly with the rest of the choir, and yet, it's most unforgettable on its own, when he's singing to a grey-eyed boy, curled up in his lap late in the night when they think everyone else has left the sacred halls.
He knows who sits across from him in this crammed booth, and it takes everything in Hu Tianbao not to reach across and hug him. Instead, he returns a question.
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm asking for a friend," comes the quiet answer, but the fear in his voice speaks otherwise. There's a desperate edge to his voice, and Hu Tianbao can only smile sadly. He knows the feeling too well, an echo of one he'd felt years ago, lifetimes ago. A familiar, gnawing guilt that haunted, a love that lingered. A sin, someone had told him then, because in a world where love was the law, religion was taught. And yet, the more he'd studied the scriptures, the more he realised it wasn't religion against certain types of love, but charlatans who hid behind its banner to perpetuate their hate, condemning others for their love to mask their own inability to. Religious institutions had long since been used to manipulate against love, tearing relationships apart in the name of faith. He'd made that mistake once, and he will not make it again.
"There's nothing in the Bible against love," he answers simply. "Nothing about God that stands against love, no matter the form."
The boy sitting across him lets out a long exhale, as if he were releasing the tension he had been feeling for far too long. The priest can see him in his mind's eyes, undoubtedly fiddling with his sleeves.
"Not even if it's between two men in love?"
Hu Tianbao can only smile. "Not even then. No matter what the Church may say about love now, God accepts and embraces love in all forms. It is not a sin to love. To love is the most natural thing in the world. In whatever form, love is the closest thing to worship some mortals can experience."
The boy on the other side of the booth remains silent, as if contemplating his words. "What if the rest of the world says it's a sin?"
"Religion is only between you and God. Whatever else others choose to believe, it will not affect your relationship with him. He embraces love in any form. If you love, do it wholeheartedly, no matter who it's with." A wave of déjà vu crashes over the priest as the words leave his lips. It feels like lifetimes ago when he was on the other side of the confession booth, only the priest's words had been different, less tolerant.
The silence between them seems to stretch on forever, and Tianbao can only wonder if he's said something in the wrong way, or if the boy had somehow quietly slipped away without him hearing. All worries disappear, though, when the boy draws in a deep, uneven breath, as if he were close to tears. "Thank you, Father." The boy says, before running out of the booth, his footsteps echoing against the wood, undoubtedly in search of his grey-eyed boy.
"Always, Wangji." The priest said, more to himself than anyone else. It was too late for him, but there was still hope for them. He wished them a happy future together, having watched the love between them blossom for years. Some day, he hoped to officiate their wedding. But for now, he was content in helping. He could only hope they continued to love, as freely and as passionately as he once had, before fear took everything dear away.
As a lone tear rolled down his cheek, Hu Tianbao knew his work was complete in this lifetime. He could only wait for the next.
Because in every lifetime, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were bound in love.