Work Text:
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ Jeon Jeongguk ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
ೃ18 year oldೃ
ೃSecond generation chaebolೃ
ೃVirginೃ
ೃBusiness studentೃ
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ Kim Taehyung ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
ೃ30 year oldೃ
ೃMysterious ೃ
ೃVirginೃ
ೃViolinist ೃ
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺ Taekook༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
ೃA love started with infatuation ೃ
ೃTaehyung is a teaseೃ
ೃJeongguk is a patient ೃ
ೃTheir story is set in 2ykೃ
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊
Jeon Jeongguk found himself at the age of eighteen, standing at the heart of Paris—the city of love. Why was he here? Because he craved change. Paris was his last hope to fill the colorless void in his otherwise privileged life.
Don’t misunderstand—his life wasn’t dull. As the only son and heir as a second-generation chaebol, excitement and luxury surrounded him. Yet, a hollow ache remained in his heart, a feeling he couldn’t shake. That’s why he chose to attend one of the top business schools in Paris.
His father, Jeon Junghyun, had built their family empire from the ground up at the age of twenty. Through a mix of grit, luck, and relentless ambition, he transformed from a middle-class man into one of the richest in South Korea. Now, Jeongguk stood as the only heir to that legacy.
He was never fond of the idea of siblings, having been the cherished only child for as long as he could remember.
His father’s love, and the endless attention, filled most of his emotional needs, making him indifferent to the idea of sharing love or affection.
Jeongguk settled into his new Parisian apartment, a place his father had picked out for him.
His parents stayed for a week to help him adjust, though Jeongguk wasn’t sure whether they were truly there for him or just enjoying yet another honeymoon.
His parents' love was so intense, almost suffocating, that it made him shy away from casual flings. He quietly hoped for a love as deep and true as theirs, but in his heart, he doubted it would ever come.
The week passed, and soon it was his first day at the university. The day itself was unremarkable, neither thrilling nor boring—just another routine in a life he was eager to shake up.
That night, Jeongguk soaked in his bathtub, the warmth of the water mingling with the coolness of the wine in his hand.
The city outside buzzed with life, but inside, he felt a familiar solitude. He sighed, lost in thought, as the steam curled around him.
When he stepped out of the bath, freshly dried and wrapped in a plush robe, something made him pause.
Music—soft, haunting, and beautiful—floated through the air. It was the kind of sound that sank into your bones, pulling you toward its source. Jeongguk, almost in a trance, moved to the balcony.
He stepped into the cool night air, and there, across from him, he saw the source of the music.
His neighbor—a man—stood with a violin in his hands. The instrument rested against his neck, and his eyes were closed, completely absorbed in the melody he created.
The music wasn’t just beautiful; it was spellbinding. But it wasn’t the notes that captured Jeongguk—it was the man.
Jeongguk felt his breath catch in his throat. The stranger looked otherworldly under the moonlight, his features soft yet sharp, his presence magnetic. It was as if Jeongguk had become a puppet, each note tugging at invisible strings, pulling him closer to the edge of the balcony.
He leaned on the railing, mesmerized. Time slowed. He wondered what color those eyes were—he had to know. What kind of gaze could create music that stirred his very soul?
The man’s eyes slowly opened, and for a brief moment, Jeongguk’s heart stopped. He was pulled in, like a star caught in the gravity of a black hole.
Those eyes—deep, warm brown—seemed to hold all the secrets Jeongguk longed to uncover.
And then, a smirk appeared on the man’s lips, like dawn breaking through the night. It was small but deliberate, and it sent a jolt through Jeongguk’s body.
The stranger winked, playful and teasing, like a butterfly’s wings brushing against his skin.
In an instant, the man disappeared into the shadows, the music fading with him. Jeongguk stood there, breathless, left only with the cold night air and the lingering echo of that haunting melody.
He wasn’t sure if what he’d seen was real or just a figment of his imagination, a dream conjured by the lonely nights in Paris.
But one thing was certain: Jeongguk’s life, once void of color, had been touched by something—someone—extraordinary.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊
One night turned into two, then three, and before Jeongguk realized it, listening to the soft, captivating melody had become part of his nightly routine.
It seemed like the mysterious violinist was the very color he had been searching for in his monotonous life—a vibrant palette he had unexpectedly discovered in the quiet nights of Paris.
But still, this charmer left Jeongguk confused, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. Was he real? Or just a sweet, mesmerizing delusion?
It was a Sunday afternoon, and Jeongguk, like many other free days, was exploring the beautiful corners of the city. He found himself in a stylish, upscale restaurant, sipping coffee as he enjoyed the cozy warmth of the place.
A soft ding signaled the entrance of another customer. Jeongguk paid no attention at first, until his eyes widened in disbelief.
There, sitting at the chair opposite to him, was the charmer from his dreams—the same man who had haunted his nights with that soul-stirring music.
How could his nocturnal fantasy have stepped into the daylight?
A sly, almost chilling smirk curved onto the man’s lips.
"Hello, neighbor. Never thought I’d see you here," came the deep, melodic voice Jeongguk had never ever heard.
It stirred something inside him—something deep and unnameable.
“You’re real,” Jeongguk murmured, still dazed, barely believing that the man before him wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.
The enchanted beauty let out a laugh and Jeongguk had never heard such a melodic laugh before.
"What did you think I was? A dream? A fantasy?" the charmer teased, his eyes locking onto Jeongguk’s with an amused glint. "How interesting."
“A charmer,” Jeongguk whispered, captivated once again by the man’s effortless beauty.
"Am I charming you?" the man asked, leaning closer—so close that Jeongguk could see his own reflection in the depths of the charmer’s warm, brown eyes.
“Yes,” Jeongguk breathed, feeling his throat tighten. “So dangerously.”
The man blow out softly, his breath grazing Jeongguk’s lips, making his pulse quicken.
"I'm no danger, little dove," the charmer murmured, his voice a melodic caress.
Jeongguk felt small, almost insignificant under the weight of the man's gaze. "And I'm no little dove," he mumbled, his pride bruised by the diminutive nickname.
The charmer chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "So what should I call you, then? Not-so-little dove?"
"Jeon Jeongguk," he answered, his voice quieter than usual, as if waiting for the charmer to speak his name.
"Jeon Jeongguk." The man’s lips twisted into a smirk as he repeated it, the name rolling off his tongue like honey. "A beautiful name for a beautiful dove."
Jeongguk inhaled sharply, eager for more. "Your name. Tell me your name."Jeongguk urged, leaning closer.
The charmer’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned back slightly, savoring Jeongguk’s anticipation. "What’s the rush, dove? We have all the time in the world."
“Won’t you order something? Or… am I not welcome to dine with you?” The charmer’s smile widened as he glanced around the restaurant. “Aren't you a polite host, let's order.”
“Oh, right,” Jeongguk said, shaking himself from his daze. He called for the waiter, eager to make the most of this unexpected date.
This moment, this meeting, felt like the beginning of something more—a vivid brushstroke of color against the once blank canvas of his life. Even if it was just a single shade, it had already transformed everything.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊
Jeon Jeongguk found himself unknowingly attached to the violinist, whose name he still didn't know. One thing he had learned was that the beauty had a notorious sweet tooth and despised coffee.
"The reason?" The beauty had mused with a smirk. "Bitter taste would make me bitter."
Jeongguk had laughed,a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the café, a luagh so hard that the violinist had stared at him longer than he should have. But the longer that enchanting gaze lingered, the quicker Jeongguk's laughter faded.
"Why stop, little dove? I rather like seeing those bunny teeth peek out from those delicate lips," the violinist murmured, grazing Jeongguk's lips with long, slender fingers. Jeongguk's heart stalled-how could it beat again after feeling a touch so striking, so tender?
The charmer came and went like the wind, leaving Jeongguk sitting longer than he should have in the café, still feeling the lingering brush of those fingers as if they owned him.
That night, Jeongguk returned home, waiting for the melodies to fill the air, but they never came.
He waited, listening intently, but the violin was silent.
Something snapped inside him, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of the door of the opposite building, the floor he had guessed belonged to the charmer.
Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing the man.
"Little dove. So eager, aren't we?"
"You... What kind of magic did you put on me? Damn it!" Jeongguk growled, his frustration boiling over as he stepped forward. The charmer stepped back, not in fear, but with a teasing challenge in his eyes.
"No magic," that siren beauty chuckled softly, his lips twitching into a tempting smile. "It was charm, remember? You said so yourself."
Jeongguk's breath hitched at the sight of his charmer biting his lips, the act nothing short of sinful.
Jeongguk slammed the door shut behind him, eyes locked on those warm brown depths. "Who are you, my charmer?" he mumbled, his voice softer, almost pleading.
"Who am I, little dove?" came the reply, dripping with amusement.
"I disgustingly love that nickname," Jeongguk grumbled, placing his hands flat on the wall, caging the charmer in his embrace. "Just cut out the 'little'."
"Show me, then. Show me you're not so little," Taehyung breathed, his words a tantalizing tease as their lips hovered mere inches apart. Jeongguk caught the unspoken consent in his eyes.
And then he closed the distance, their lips meeting in a gentle yet searing kiss. The taste was sweet-sweeter than anything Jeongguk had ever experienced in his eighteen years of life.
Taehyung moaned into his hold, a sound that sent shivers down Jeongguk's spine.
Jeongguk groaned, his tongue sliding past Taehyung's lips, exploring the warmth of his mouth.
He sucked, nibbled, their teeth clashing in the heat of the kiss.
Needing air, Jeongguk pulled back slightly, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, a thin string of saliva still connecting them.
"Tell me your name," Jeongguk whispered, his forehead pressed against Taehyung's, his voice raw with desire.
"What should I call you when I wreck you beneath me, my charmer?"
"Taehyung," the man finally answered, still panting. "Kim Taehyung."
And with that, Taehyung pushed Jeongguk back against the wall, reversing their positions, taking the lead as he captured Jeongguk's lips in a second, fiercer kiss.
Jeongguk knew then that the canvas of his life, once void of color, was now being painted in more than just one hue. It was becoming filled with the vibrant colors of a rainbow.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊