Jeongin sat in the dimly lit chapel, the faint flicker of candles casting shadows on the wooden pews. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, a comfort he had known his entire life. This was his sanctuary, his safe haven—until recently.
His father’s booming voice echoed from the pulpit during every Sunday sermon: "love is pure, a sacred bond between man and woman, blessed by God" Jeongin had grown up reciting those words, believing them, until Hyunjin came into his life.
Hyunjin was everything Jeongin wasn’t. Bold where Jeongin was reserved. Vibrant where Jeongin was subdued. He had a smile that could rival the sun and eyes that sparkled with mischief and depth. Hyunjin made Jeongin question everything he thought he knew.
It started innocently enough—a shared laugh after Sunday service, fleeting glances during choir practice. But soon, Jeongin found himself drawn to Hyunjin in ways he couldn’t explain, ways he wasn’t sure he was allowed to feel.
And now, here he was, in the quiet of the chapel, wrestling with his thoughts.
“Jeongin?”
The familiar voice startled him. He turned to see Hyunjin standing in the doorway, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight.
Jeongin’s breath hitched. “Hyunjin, what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Hyunjin replied, stepping inside. His tone was light, but his gaze was serious. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Jeongin looked away, his fingers tightening around the rosary in his hands. “I’ve been... busy.”
Hyunjin chuckled softly, the sound tinged with sadness. “Busy avoiding how you feel?”
Jeongin’s head snapped up, his cheeks burning. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyunjin said, moving closer. “I see the way you look at me, Jeongin. The same way I look at you.”
Jeongin’s heart pounded. “Stop,” he whispered, shaking his head. “We can’t... I can’t.”
“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, his voice gentle but firm. “Because of what your father says? What the church says?”
Jeongin stood, his hands trembling. “It’s not just that. It’s... it’s what God says. I was raised to believe—”
“To believe that love is wrong if it doesn’t fit into their box?” Hyunjin interrupted, his voice rising. “Do you really think God would condemn us for loving each other?”
Jeongin’s vision blurred with tears. “I don’t know! I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Hyunjin stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup Jeongin’s cheek. “Then believe in me. Believe in this.”
Jeongin closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his face. "if i like a boy...if i like you, can i still go to heaven?"
Hyunjin’s thumb brushed away the tear, his voice soft. “Jeongin, I don’t have all the answers. But if heaven is about love, how could this—how could we—be wrong?”
The weight of Hyunjin’s words settled over Jeongin like a warm embrace. For the first time in weeks, the storm inside him quieted. He opened his eyes, meeting Hyunjin’s gaze.
“Do you really think so?” Jeongin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I do,” Hyunjin said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And if I’m wrong, I’d rather be wrong with you than right without you.”
A shaky laugh escaped Jeongin, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Hyunjin’s. Their breaths mingled, their hearts beating in sync.
In that moment, the world outside the chapel didn’t matter. Not the sermons, not the rules, not the fear of judgment. All that mattered was the boy standing in front of him and the love they shared—a love that, despite everything, felt pure and true.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
