Work Text:
“Jeongguk,” came a deep voice from behind them.
Still smiling, Jeongguk turned to face the stranger. “Taehyung-ssi,” he said heartily, extending his hand. “I’m surprised that you remember me.”
“So am I — you’ve grown a head taller since I saw you last.” The man shook hands with him. “On leave from school, are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sensing his brother’s confusion, Jeongguk murmured in his ear, while the tall stranger motioned his friends to enter the theater without him. “Kim Taehyung — the butcher’s son,” Jeongguk whispered. “I’ve met him a time or two at the shop, when eomma sent me to fetch an order. Be nice to him — he’s a capital fellow.”
Bemused, Seokjin couldn’t help thinking that Kim Taehyung was unusually well dressed for a butcher’s son. He wore a smart black coat and the new style of more loosely tailored trousers that somehow didn’t disguise the lean, powerful lines of the body beneath. Like most of the other men entering the theater, he had already removed his hat, uncovering a head of dark, slightly wavy hair. He was a tall, big-boned man who looked to be about thirty, with strong features, a long blade of a nose, a boxy smile, and eyes so black that one couldn’t distinguish the irises from the pupils. His was an utterly masculine face, with a sardonic humor lurking about the eyes and mouth that owed nothing to frivolity. It was clear to even an undiscerning viewer that this man was rarely idle, his body and his nature patterned by hard work and keen ambition.
“My elder brother, Kim Seokjin,” Jeongguk said. “This is Kim Taehyung.”
“A pleasure,” Taehyung murmured, with a bow.