Chapter Text
Taehyung
His feet were dipped in water, his hair dishevelled, his clothes half wet. But he didn’t care much about that. Because all he cared about was singing.
And he sang.
Warning bells rang inside his head, the cautions and mild threats thrown at him since the morning, heck, since the very day the family had reached a decision.
But, he sang.
꽃들이 가득한 거리에
오늘도 그대를 보네요
내 안에 담겨질까요
새벽 달이 지난 공원에
지금 내 감정을 담아요
이 노랜 그댈 향해요
밤하늘 달에게 비춰진
필름의 소리를 들어요
In the background, he heard a car screech to a halt on the road behind him. He paused, let the sound tide over, gazed out into the horizon, and resumed his song.
I still wonder, wonder beautiful story
Still wonder, wonder best part
I still wander, wander next story
I want to make you mine
그 찰나의 시간의 그 모습을
놓친 내 마음이 아쉬워해
후회가 돼 다시 그 찰나가 있기를
달빛 조각 하나하나 모아
조명을 만들 테니
어제와 같은 모습으로
내 앞에 와주세요
발자국 남기고 떠나가시면
제가 그 온길 지킬게요
흑백 속 에 남길게요
Taehyung knew that people paused when he sang. Like they were supposed to. Like life wanted to hold itself and breathe for a while while it basked in the honey laden tone that escaped Taehyung’s voice and turned music into an experience they would never forget. Everyone stopped, everyone liked to drown in it, everyone felt it was a nice hobby to keep . Everyone told him he should pursue it but… after all the really important things in life. Unless he was making money from it.
Except, for Taehyung, music was his life.
And his life was not for sale. Or this part of his life wasn’t. Music wasn’t something that he wanted to hide about himself. It wasn’t something he wanted to suppress. Music filled him to the brim and sometimes it overflowed so that he had to run out of his home and come sit by the stream to let the waters carry the weight of his tunes and absorb them into her gentle waves.
But music also turned him possessive. He would share it with nature, with a random passerby, the animals that were immediately attracted to his pure soul. He wouldn’t sell his craft.
I still wonder, wonder beautiful story
Still wonder, wonder best part
I still wander, wander next story
I want to make you mine
Soft footsteps stopped right behind him, and Taehyung paused his legs from swinging in the water. He let the song drift off with the wind and took his time to fill his lungs with air, replacing the emptiness left behind by the song. And then, he turned around.
And found himself looking at big doe eyes that were supposed to be a misfit to the tall, muscular frame, sharp jaws and killer thighs, but somehow, somehow, fit right in.
He would make a nice song, Taehyung thought, a little bit golden, a whole lot of spice, and a sprinkle of something sweet. Something, his mind wandered, that didn’t fit in, but ohh, fit in so well.
“You sing beautifully,” the stranger said, his voice awed, his stance, that of reverence.
“Thank you,” Taehyung smiled, and turned back towards the stream. It wasn’t arrogance, it wasn’t pride. It was just a mix of shyness, coupled with some protectiveness towards himself. It was also something he had heard a lot—something that never led to anything else.
“And now that I see your face…”
There it is, thought Taehyung. He should have stopped at the first sentence.
“It’s almost like your entire presence was built to compliment that heavenly voice,” the stranger completed his sentence.
Taehyung stilled. That’s new, his mind wondered. Most people never looked beyond his appearance. They forgot about his voice as soon as they saw his face, his body, his curves. This person was different. This person cared about the music.
Taehyung realised that the man must be a music lover. Even then, he decided to not let the compliment get to his head. And he decided to not let his bashfulness get to the stranger’s head.
Kim Taehyung didn’t have time for strangers. Or their heartwarming compliments.
And he had to be home soon. His older brother was supposed to get betrothed today. That’s why he was under strict instructions to appear demure, well-behaved, and as less as possible. He sighed as he remembered the instructions—how people thought he could be a threat to someone who looked and carried an aura like Kim Seokjin was beyond his understanding.
“Thank you,” he said softly, getting up, ready to leave. “I’ll take your leave.”
Someone called out from the car at that instant, something about getting late, and having to still find the right house. And it seemed to break the trance the stranger was in.
“I hope to hear you sing again, sometime,” he said. “Beautiful stranger by the stream.” The man with the eyes that should not have fit his face so beautifully said, and left, without further ado. He left Taehyung a bit pleased, a bit melancholic, and with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
He didn’t say I hope to see you again, he thought, walking towards the bungalow. If he did that to get my attention, then well, he was successful.
Jeongguk.
He’d woken up this morning realising that it was the day he would be meeting his husband-to-be. No, it wasn’t fate, it wasn’t a dream, not even a prophecy coming true. It was just the way his legal advisor had prescribed they should deal with the situation with the Kims’ impending bankruptcy.
Buy them out, but do it tastefully. Jeongguk tasted the words in his head. Marry the elder Kim brother. It saves you the trouble of bad press, gives you legitimate power over their business, and people call it an alliance instead of a hostile takeover.
With that legal counsel, his fate had been sealed. The Kims were competitors. Same business, different brand. One of the Jeon insiders placed in the Kims’ business, where he had no business being, had leaked their next brilliant innovation, and the Jeons had been able to release it, patent it, beat the Kims at their own game, and run their business to dust. Well, almost. Their pride still stood its ground in the way they conducted themselves.
Jeongguk had no idea what had happened. He was not related to the business, but he was related to the Jeons by blood, and now he had to pay the price for it. Because, as laughable as the reason was, there really were no more Jeons up for sacrifice, none of the marriageable age anyway.
So when the information had been leaked, and an angry Mr Kim Sr had rained down on them like a ton of bricks with the video footage of the IP theft, the Jeons’ legal advisor had been called for, and after consulting with the Kims’ legal counsel, he had delivered the foolproof plan. The coming together of the brands in the most heartwarming way, saving both families—one from poverty, and the other from faceloss.
Jeongguk hadn’t been given an option. Gone were the days when he believed that he’d find his partner by stroke of fate, some sign, a sound of bells ringing in his ears. So he had given into the plan, the lure of being useful to his family for once in his lifetime getting the better of logic, and he had agreed, provided the Kims’ elder son had no problems with marrying a man five years his younger.
Where romantic novels had told him that violins and harps would play in his mind when he went to meet the one, the only thing he could hear as his car sped along the roads that led to the Kims’ bungalow in the countryside, was the sound of the flowing stream and that of the friction of his car’s tires against the road.
Until the air sweetened with the most delicious sound of music he had ever heard.
He forgot about time and place, and brought his car to a screeching halt, opened the door and walked out towards the source of the music. He wasn’t prepared for the sound or the sight that greeted him—an ethereal being, sitting by a stream in an area filled only with his presence, his voice, and his melody melting into the soft waves of the river that was the audience before Jeongguk decided to appear, uninvited.
When Jeongguk walked back to his car after his conversation with the singer by the stream, his heart felt a little heavier than it was in the morning. It was as if a realisation hit him suddenly, that he was leaving behind all the chances of running into such beautiful coincidences with the choice he was making today.
The choice of saving his family from disgrace by agreeing to marry someone for convenience, and not for love.
When he resumed his journey towards the Kims’ bungalow, Jeongguk briefly wondered how he had landed in this position. His father was the youngest of the Jeon brothers, and he was his father’s youngest son. No one in the family had any expectations from him. And from the time he realised it, he decided to use it to his full advantage, saved all his older brothers all the fights, and allowed them to have an extra share in business when he chose to launch his own venture with his hyung from university, and let the family business be.
His father had also been the kind who believed in ‘you only live once’ — in fact, Jeongguk’s own family, his parents, his older brother and sister and him, were all alike in thought. The larger family still ran on his grandmother’s orders. And since his grandmother was a stickler for traditions, rules, and maintaining appearances, therefore when Jeongguk had broken free, the entire family, much to their disdain, had stood behind him like a rock, supportive of his decision, and encouraging him.
Now it was time for him to pay it back.
Jeongguk shook his head as the Kims’ bungalow came into his line of sight, getting rid of the thoughts and readying himself for what was going to follow. The Kims’ stood out on the porch, waiting for his arrival, and Jeongguk ran a hand through his hair. This was it.
Jeongguk had thought that a typical arranged marriage set up wasn’t how they described it in the books or on TV. However, he was thoroughly disappointed from the word go. Typical didn’t even cut it. The entire set up was formal, every single person present sitting stiff in their positions as if they would be punished if they moved, and the amount of food spread out on the table was making him doubt if the Kims were really going bankrupt.
He held his tongue like he was supposed to.
Suddenly, the room was abuzz with a newfound tension as if it was holding its breath to reveal a grand secret—and when Jeongguk looked up from his feet to let his eyes focus on the person who came to sit in front of him, he realised that sometimes, a person demanded grandeur. It was one of those rare times that he felt small in front of a presence. For even though he was the youngest in his family, by virtue of his ability to excel at everything he touched, he had never felt feeble.
But now, sitting in front of Kim Seokjin, his husband-to-be, he felt not only the age gap, but also that he was a mere mortal, sitting in front of some sort of a divine creature—someone whose aura demanded respect, and submission. Kim Seokjin’s photographs did nothing to his actual beauty or personality.
Watching Seokjin closely, Jeongguk instantly knew that this marriage would not work out for him. He would have to endure it, but this man wasn’t made to be his life partner. It wasn’t from arrogance, or from not wanting to submit—but from feeling inadequate to match the stature of the broad shoulders that carried Seokjin’s personality like they had stretched themselves to prove themselves worthy of being on the man’s body.
Everyone started talking again, their eyes darting from Seokjin to Jeongguk, and from Jeongguk to Seokjin, trying to understand how to begin a conversation that was not really required. Because the marriage had been fixed already,
“I would like to speak to Jeongguk-ssi alone,” Seokjin’s voice shook Jeongguk out of his trance, and honestly, scared him a little.
They were ushered out into a small, decorated terrace, where they were supposed to have their ‘talk.’ And for a little while, both the men stood at the railing, staring out at the horizon. Jeongguk knew that even Seokjin didn’t want to marry him. His situation wasn’t really that different from Jeongguk’s. But he also knew that none of them really had a choice in the matter.
“You’re five years younger to me, Jeongguk-ssi,” Seokjin broke the silence.
And to Jeongguk, it felt like he had committed a crime. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. And Seokjin laughed. His windshield laughter filled the air around them, and Jeongguk finally found himself smiling, some of the tension leaving his body.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Seokjin said between his laughter. “I just meant that I never thought I’d be marrying someone so young. You’re… you’re even younger than my dongsaeng.”
“If I knew,” Jeongguk found his sense of humour returning, “that I’d grow up to marry you, I’d have chosen to be born at least a couple of years earlier.”
Seokjin looked at him and smiled. His face looked gentle now, the entire stiffness and tension of his posture leaving his body. “I need to tell you something, Jeongguk-ssi. That’s why I requested this time alone.”
“Please call me Jeongguk,” Jeongguk responded, “and feel free to share anything you want to.”
Seokjin looked back out at the horizon, as if steadying himself for the words that were going to follow. But the moment was broken even before it began. A voice called out from behind the two of them, a voice that ran chills down Jeongguk’s spine.
“Hyung,” the voice said, quiet, as if he didn’t want to be heard. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I realised that you wanted some privacy. I was… I was hiding back here. If you’d allow me, I will just leave before you begin talking.”
Seokjin turned towards the voice behind them immediately. Jeongguk didn’t dare move for a few minutes. He was held spellbound.
“Tae,” Seokjin said softly. “So they asked you not to come in front of him today?”
That made Jeongguk flinch. He understood the implication, too used to family dynamics by now. Slowly, he turned around and let his gaze fall upon the ethereal being that was Seokjin’s brother. The one he’d met the second time in the day, first as a stranger, and now, as someone who was going to become his brother-in-law. A strange lump of emotions made its way to his throat and settled there, with no intention to leave. The more he looked at Tae, the more he realised that it would now become a permanent presence.
Seokjin cleared his voice, “Jeongguk, meet Taehyung, my younger brother. Tae, this is Jeon Jeongguk.”
“Your future husband, and my brother-in-law to be,” Taehyung gave Jeongguk a once over, any memories from their initial meeting this morning not even featuring in his expressions as a giveaway. “Welcome to the family, Jeongguk-ssi. We will see and hear each other more, it seems!”
And there it was, the acknowledgement that Jeongguk didn’t know he was even seeking.
“I’ll leave you two to it, sorry about the disturbance hyung,” Taehyung bowed his head and turned away to leave.
“Don’t be stupid,” Seokjin waved him off. Then he turned towards Jeongguk and said, “he’s not allowed to be present in today’s proceedings.”
“Not allowed? He’s your own brother?” Jeongguk asked, astonished.
“They do not want him to become a hindrance in the process.”
“I’m sorry I don’t get you,” Jeongguk said.
“Well, I am obviously so much older than you, and he’s just… I think two years… yeah, two years older, so there’s more chance of you two connecting, and they really need me to be married off before Tae. You know, stupid traditions,” Seokjin shrugged his shoulders.
“Ohh,” Jeongguk realised his heart was beating too fast, threatening to beat out of his chest.
He tried to shake away the feeling, putting all his attention on Seokjin instead. “You were about to say something before… he…”
Seokjin smiled. “I was.”
They left the terrace a few minutes later and joined the gathering below, expectant eyes trained on them as if they had a chance at changing their fates. Seokjin walked slowly and took his seat. Jeongguk stood rooted in his spot in the middle of the living room, quite a few pairs of eyes on him, his voice dry, his heartbeat erratic.
Then he looked at his father, opened his mouth, and said in the steadiest voice he could muster,
“I want to marry Taehyung.”