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Taehyung first met Jeongguk in an exclusive club in downtown Seoul. 

It was the pre-release party for the singer’s new album, and Taehyung was the plus one of his best friend and idol, Jimin, who had left him on his own to shove his tongue down his boyfriend’s throat the second they arrived (Taehyung didn’t blame him, Min Yoongi was hot as fuck). 

He isn’t bad at socializing, quite the opposite, but that night, for some reason Taehyung could hardly understand, he’d been on edge. 

There was a presence nearby. A scent. Demanding his attention. 

It happened like it does in cliché romance movies. 

You look across the dimly-lit room and lock gazes with the one who’s already looking your way.

And before you know it, you’re falling. And deep down, something tells you you’re gonna be falling for a long, long time. 

It was Taehyung who had made the first move. He had glided past the sea of drunken bodies and stopped against the counter beside Jeongguk, whose dark eyes were on Taehyung the entire time, a little surprised, a little lost. A lot enamored. 

“Hi.” Taehyung greeted through a smile he couldn’t bite back. 

“Hi.” 

For an alpha, Jeongguk sure seemed... timid. And his scent was- it was breathtaking. A cool, calming breeze of the rainforest. Perhaps that was what made Taehyung’s smile widen like a smitten fool in those slow and hazy moments. Or perhaps it was just Jeongguk, his very presence. 

“Um. Congratulations. On the album. It’s– wonderful, I love your voice.” 

“Thank you, um. Thank you.” Jeongguk’s lips had curled into a shy smile. The prettiest set of eyes Taehyung had ever seen crinkled from their angelic corners. “Would– would you like a drink?” 

“I’d love a drink. I’m Taehyung, by the way.”

“I know. Jeongguk.” 

“I know.” 

And the rest, as the poets say, was history. 

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Three years later 

The clinking of champagne flutes echoes behind the neon rave of the Celine afterparty. The numbing cheers and hoots of his crew and fellow models follow.

Against the backdrop of a Parisian rock band belting out Nirvana’s entire discography, Taehyung, a little drunk on Bollinger and a lot high on the night, celebrates the successful closing of his runway show as the new face of Celine. Another one of his dreams crossed off the list. 

“Taehyung, darling!” The brand’s director swoops Taehyung in a warm embrace. “You were simply sublime tonight. Magnifique!” Hedi praises in his enchanting French lilt. The apples of Taehyung’s cheeks flush softly. 

“Why, thank you. It’s all because of you, Hedi.” 

Taehyung looks down in a moment of sincere humility. His sight blurs but doesn’t relent in the glamor of his own self, an indeed sublime combination of leather and sequins and diamonds, all things extravagantly luxurious, reminding Taehyung of just how far he has come. An unknown model from a small agency to a bright star in the center of the haute couture world. Taehyung doesn’t take another second to shake off the tears and convey his gratitude to his team once again, to each person present there who made this dream of his come true. 

Although there are many more Taehyung would love to see and thank, his ever so supportive boyfriend being on the top of that list, he’ll just have to wait to be back home for that.

For now, Taehyung allows himself to get lost in the swirls of these blinding lights, the vivid and vivacious shades of reds, yellows and violets, mirroring the haze of his bottomless happiness. 

The alcohol weaves with the loud and deep bass of the music and tingles his spine in the most pleasant of ways, makes him sway like a feather caught in a whirlwind. 

“Tae!” a model yells from the stage, “come on up, babe!” She winks slyly at him before tucking her chin out towards a pole standing cold in a conspicuously exotic corner.

And oh, oh fucking hell. Taehyung has never been one to pass on some wild fun. 

So that’s how he finds himself spinning from the pole with another French model, his giggles loud over the music as he curls one slender leg ‘round it and tips his head back to really sink in the depths of this dizzying world, warm yet cool, dark yet bright, happy yet bittersweet. 

It’s a chaos of feverish emotions and sensations. Loud music and louder people, infinite lights and infinite scents, but within a matter of moments, everything around him comes tumbling down into a steep halt. 

Because there’s an all too familiar presence nearby. A scent. Demanding his attention.

It first makes itself known as a breeze of rainforests, then in the form of a hypnotizing black gaze and finally as a dazzling lopsided smile.  

Taehyung’s breaths catch in his lungs as he does a double take towards the club’s first floor balcony, the spot where the unskippable silhouette of his boyfriend is standing, leaning on the railing, arms crossed, eyes dark on him and smile languid, both shining with mirth. 

“Jeonggukie?!” Taehyung all but yelps. 

Because it’s un- fucking -believable. 

How could Jeongguk be here, in an exclusive club in freaking Paris when his own schedule is loaded to the brim. His brand new song just came out, for fuck’s sake. 

So either Taehyung has finally gone mad from all the alcohol-charged spinning, or Jeongguk, his Jeongguk, is really here. 

Only one way to find out. 

Taehyung stumbles down the stage and rushes up the stairs to the first floor in clumsy and hasty steps. 

When Jeongguk meets him halfway at the edge, his strong arms instantly finding Taehyung’s body and his own locking behind his neck, fingers in his hair, that’s when Taehyung releases his choked breaths.  

“You’re really here.” The words come out in a breathy whisper, as if afraid that any louder would ruin this blissful reality. 

Jeongguk is really here. Not some crazed delusion, not a hazy daydream, but him. As dazed and as homesick as Taehyung. 

In a moment to ground himself, Taehyung runs his hands down Jeongguk’s sturdy chest clad in a fine gray vest over a crisp white shirt, garments that can only be parts of a formal three-piece suit, which, if Taehyung weren’t busy rubbing his cheeks on every inch of Jeongguk’s neck accessible to him, he would question because Jeongguk never wears a suit, much less a three-piece. 

In the time it takes them to scent each other, after a week too treacherously long, the commotion within and around Taehyung has generously lulled. All that remains is their quiet connection, his alpha’s rainforest scent weaving with his own potion of roses in a transparent pink bottle of love. 

Jeongguk shuffles back, although seeming reluctant. Taehyung whines, but takes the opportunity to squish his lovely boyfriend’s face and shower him in endless kisses amidst endless I love yous and I missed yous. 

“You look good on a pole, baby,” is the first thing said lovely boyfriend says through his rich laughter, “remind me why we don’t have a pole at our place again?”  

A severe flush runs up Taehyung’s cheeks and he smacks Jeongguk’s arm playfully, whining, “Shush! What’re you doing here?! I thought you had an interview with Rolling Stone today!” 

Jeongguk shrugs in an attempt to seem cool, but the light peach blush spreading on his own cheeks is a direct contradiction to his actions. 

“Left as soon as it ended. I wouldn’t miss your show for the world.” Jeongguk gives up on trying to be cool when he cups Taehyung’s face, and brushes their noses together in something reminiscent of a touch. “You were great, Tae, so fucking amazing, god. Took all my breaths away, you always do. I’m so incredibly proud of you.” 

Taehyung’s lips wobble as they part, and a stuttering breath evades before he can catch it. “You were at the show?” he asks with unblinking, wet eyes. 

Backstage, all the time it took him to get ready, Taehyung had been soothing the discord of his nerves by murmuring Jeongguk’s name to himself, as if it were some sort of a chant that would dispel his anxiety. His thoughts had been preoccupied with only one thing: Jeonggukie would be watching later, he’d be proud, I can do this. For him. 

To think Jeongguk was there, with him, for him, Taehyung doesn’t stop his tears from gushing out. 

Jeongguk coos and takes him back in his arms, kissing the wetness off his face. He nuzzles Taehyung’s forehead, softening the creases there with a kiss as he whispers, “Sorry I couldn’t catch you earlier. I so badly wanted to, but I knew you’d appreciate a surprise more.” 

Well, he isn’t wrong. Taehyung does like a good surprise. Jeongguk has always been on top of his game when it came to those. 

The model who’d called Taehyung to the stage earlier, Momo, breaks them apart, much to Taehyung’s dismay. They stumble through hasty and awkward introductions, just enough to satisfy Momo’s curiosity (Tae, you never mentioned you had a mate!) (Oh my god, Momo, he’s not my mate… yet). Before anyone else could catch sight of them, Taehyung hauls Jeongguk out the door. 

Turned out, the surprise wasn’t limited to Jeongguk showing up at the afterparty in a fine ass Armani suit. As they hurried out the club and Jeongguk led them to a busy Paris street instead of following Taehyung to his hotel, the second high-pitched yelp of the night left Taehyung’s throat.  

For tucked in a shadowy corner, patiently awaiting the two, was a sleek black limousine.  

Taehyung had been glued to the pavement, stunned as he gawked between the shiny vehicle and Jeongguk, who once again resorted to a cool and casual shrug instead of words. 

Safe to say, he was pulled inside the car by Taehyung, urgently straddled and kissed the entire drive through the late-night streets of Paris. He’s seen enough of those, but the alpha underneath him, now that is one delight Taehyung will never tire of having.  

It was only when the flashes of bright liquid gold seeped in Taehyung’s vision even through the black-tinted windows that he detangled himself from Jeongguk’s reddened neck, and questioned their plan for the night.

“You’ll see,” was all Jeongguk revealed before pulling Taehyung in for another stream of wet and messy kisses. 

Which leads them to now. Standing smack dab in front of another shiny vehicle, only this one is white, reflecting the shine of the moon and the golden of the Iron Lady who stands tall and proud on the other side of the river, and even more huge, so huge Taehyung has to tip his head back to take in the sheer size of this gigantic fucking– 

“That’s a fucking cruise!” 

The third screech of the night. Thankfully, this one is consumed by the gentle ripples of moonlit waters and the fondness of Jeongguk’s chuckles. 

“Well. Google said a view of the Eiffel tower from the Seine river beats all others, so.”

“So you booked a whole damn cruise?!”

“Duh.” 

Taehyung is speechless. 

Surely, he missed some memo about tonight being some special fucking night, maybe some anniversary he’d forgotten about? 

“Is it our anniversary tonight or something?” Taehyung squeaks out as Jeongguk guides him through the cruise with one hand warm across the small of his back. 

“No,” he chuckles, adding in a murmur under his breath, “but it could be.” 

“What?” 

“What?” 

Taehyung is confused. 

And Jeongguk seems flustered, if the deepening of his blush from the tip of his ears all the way down to his neck is any evidence. 

Before his boyfriend could turn into a whining bun like he does when embarrassed, Taehyung diverts his attention to the surroundings. 

As they step on to the deck, the first thing Taehyung notices is that it’s enormous. And so very empty. Jeongguk didn’t just book a cruise, he got them a private cruise ship that could very well be the epitome of the most luxurious thing Taehyung has ever seen. 

A grand pool lit with gentle purple light takes up most of the middle deck area. The rest is minimal save for the beautiful fairy bulbs illuminating the entire space in an incandescent golden glow. 

In a shy corner underneath the weave of gold and silver, Taehyung spots a circular table immaculate with white drapes and white roses in the middle, tall antique candelabras adding a touch of royalty to the night. 

“Really,” Taehyung exhales in sheer, unending awe, “what’s the occasion, Gguk? All this is…” 

Jeongguk, with a silent smile, ushers him around the deck to the balcony from where the entirety of the Eiffel tower shines splendidly in Taehyung’s eyes.

They stop in front of the high railing, marveling up at the wonder. Jeongguk’s hand never slips from Taehyung’s back, a clear reflection of how his support never wavered even once in the three years Taehyung has known him. 

The river ripples gently as they sail further into the horizon. A million stars of gold and silver dance on the waves, their elegant shimmer pulling Taehyung into a world of fantasy dreams. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk’s deep voice adds another layer of magic to this still un-fucking-believable night. “You did cross another huge milestone in your career. I think that calls for a grand celebration, baby, don’t you?” 

“I–” Taehyung’s insecurity gets cut short by Jeongguk’s soft tut. 

“Though honestly? I’d love nothing more than to spoil the love of my life without needing any reason.”  

A gust of cold wind blows those words along with it to the horizon, yet they remain echoing deep inside the ocean of Taehyung’s wildly beating heart. 

“Who are you and what did you do to my baby?” he jokes in an attempt to keep himself from bawling right there. Where did that timid baby alpha he had met back in the club go? 

But really, throughout their friendship and in the shift towards serious courtship, Jeongguk had grown so confident in his ways of loving Taehyung. Slowly, patiently, they both learnt how to love each other in the right ways, and every side of Jeongguk Taehyung has seen till now leaves him in awe. Be it this suit-clad, confidence-emitting, swoon-worthy Jeongguk, or his whiny baby alpha in sweats and old hoodies with his hair tied in a messy bun. Taehyung adores all of Jeongguk to no end. 

“Hey!” whines Jeongguk on cue. Taehyung’s laughter rings merrily across the river. 

“There he is,” he coos, cupping his baby alpha’s face and smothering him with fond nuzzles. 

“Thank you, Gguk. Really,” Taehyung pours all his affection and gratitude in the following words, “You believed in me when even I couldn’t. You supported me through thick and thin, you’ve been with me through the ups and downs, and wow this is sounding like a wedding vow, but I guess that’s how grateful I am to have you.” 

Jeongguk returns his sincerity with an equally enchanting smile, his doe eyes crinkling from their soft edges. Just when Taehyung is about to lean in for a kiss, a deep voice from the back startles and separates the two. 

“Pardon, messieurs.” A man, the maître d' as Taehyung judges from his impeccable suit, speaks in a handsome French accent that’s harder to grasp; all Taehyung catches are bits of, “the dinner shall soon be served,” and some pieces of, “the finest wine for the beautiful couple.” 

And that’s enough to make Taehyung flush feverishly and hide his warming face in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck, his shy whine buried under the alpha’s endeared chuckles. 

The candlelight dinner is quaint, as lovely as it can be surrounded by the dreamy night and ocean sounds. 

When they’d reached the table, the first thing Jeongguk had done was present to him the bouquet of white roses that was displayed in the middle. Contrary to what Taehyung first thought, it was not a centerpiece, but a little congratulatory gift for the omega’s new endeavors. 

If the thought alone had made Taehyung tear up slightly, then the note he found stashed inside surely finished the job.

Some soft sniffling and crying and a lot of cozy hugging later, the dinner goes by within endless conversations they couldn’t have during the week they were apart, amidst floaty laughter and playful banter which never ceases to mesmerize Taehyung, for just how easy it’s always been with Jeongguk. Whether they’re having high-end cuisine on a private cruise or gobbling greasy fast food straight from delivery boxes, with Jeongguk, every aspect of life is delightful in pink. 

Taehyung first hears it when he’s two substantial bites in his decadent chocolate and strawberry tartlet. 

The deep and amorous voice of a woman singing in French floats towards their corner, followed closely by the satin cries of the violin. 

When more instruments join and the music kickstarts the midnight, Taehyung reels in realization. 

“That’s…” His favorite song. A different version of it, yet just as nostalgic. For countless midnights have passed within the gentle sways of their bodies slotted together, under the dim yellow light of their living room, dancing to the same old love song over and over. 

“Dance with me?” 

Jeongguk’s standing in front of him, reaching his hand out for Taehyung to take, which he does within a heartbeat. In a gentle glide, he’s being held close and held fast, pressed to a heart that’s his second home. 

Accompanied by the lullaby of the ocean, the serene winds and the luminance of the moon, they sway to the lovesong like they always do without tiring of it, Taehyung’s head nestled on Jeongguk’s shoulder, arms curled around his nape, fingers in his hair, and Jeongguk’s own holding him by his waist, nose buried in the crook of his neck.

Unhurried moments like these call for an ode on quiet appreciation, on cherishing and on preserving, so that’s what Taehyung does. Tucked inside the warm and safe embrace of his lover, in a world where roses bloom in midnight rainforests, he delights in the slow swing of their bodies and the lulling hum that flutters ever so often between them as he sings the lyrics in English.  

“... Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be... ”

The song steadies into a gentle pause. 

Jeongguk stops and straightens out from Taehyung’s hold. 

Taehyung is slightly confused when he knits his brows together and questions Jeongguk on what’s going on. Why is he suddenly kneeling on the ground on one knee, why– why is he taking his hand in his and bringing it to his lips, kissing each of the knuckles as he gazes in Taehyung’s eyes, softly searching. 

Taehyung, somewhere, somehow, knows why. But his heart is this close to an explosion, it pours from his eyes before Jeongguk has even said a word. 

“J-Jeon—” 

“Taehyung.” 

Yeah, yeah. Taehyung is just about ready to fucking die.

“Remember when you made me read your favorite book?” 

Taehyung nods like a child dying to know the end of a fairytale, only with hot tears gushing from his eyes. 

“It was Christmas and you wanted me to ‘follow the tradition’ of reading Emma while we snuggled in front of the fireplace, a mug of hot cocoa in hand.” 

Oh, sweet nostalgia. It was three years ago. They had only been dating for a few months then. But as it so rarely happens, they were already besotted with each other, wanting to know everything that made the other happy, and doing it all. So Christmas that year was spent at Taehyung’s cozy apartment, quietly reading together, merrily baking and eating together and oh, how wonderful and warm the holidays had felt that year, and then the next, and the next.

“There was a line in that book that I’ve always thought about.” 

Jeongguk squeezes Taehyung’s hand, looking as enamored as he did the first time they met. 

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” 

Taehyung draws in a sharp breath. 

“Guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve racked my brain for all the ways I could tell you just how much you mean to me, just how badly I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but after many many failed attempts at writing a stupid useless script, I’ve come to accept the conclusion that it’s simply an impossible feat, to word my love for you. So I’ll just ask this.”

Jeongguk pauses to exhale, sudden nervousness gripping his eyes before they harden and glaze over with just the faintest of gold. 

“Taehyung, baby.” 

“Will you marry me?” 

And by this point, Taehyung has lost all sense of the world. His heart feels as if on an eternal standstill, breaths squeezed tightly by his lungs, afraid that even one sliver of a gasp will break this moment. And his head, his head is lighter and dizzier than it had been on that fucking pole and there’s a part of him that wants to scream into the void, tell the entire damn universe that yes, yes, Fuck Yes I’ll Marry You, are you fucking crazy you don’t even have to fucking ask just take me right here right now and–

“Aha! That’s why you’re wearing a fucking suit!” is what comes out of his mouth in a gibberish yelp instead. 

Fuck. You’ve officially lost it, Taehyung, congratulations.

“Taehyung, say yes already! My knee is fucking dead!” Jeongguk barks out a laugh. It’s contagious, makes Taehyung laugh too, because really, what the fuck. 

“Fuck, oh god, fuck yes, of course I’ll marry you, Jeongguk!” And now he’s crying again. Because Jeongguk is jumping up and pulling him into the tightest hug he’s ever given, enveloping Taehyung’s entire body and kissing him deeply and it’s just now that he’s realizing- Jeongguk is shaking. He’s crying too. Out of happiness, they both are. 

The song resumes from where it had left. The night is suddenly brighter, curling into soft shimmery shades of pink like the rose quartz sitting on his ring finger. 

The engagement ring, it’s beautiful and bewitching. It shines like a star from every angle, and when Jeongguk brings it to his lips and kisses it and then him again, sealing something within the universe with a quiet, fervent: I love you, the ring blankets Taehyung in his beloved’s scent. And Taehyung has never felt warmer, safer, more at peace, more at home.  

Taehyung’s long list of dreams never included – get surprised by lovely boyfriend after runway, drive through the late-night streets of Paris in a limo, and get proposed to on a giant fucking private cruise as a string quartet plays your favorite lovesong – but he gets to cross it off anyway. 

And he’ll get to cross more. 

Many more milestones, many more surprises, many more late nights of driving through his dream towns and many more slow dances in cozy spaces. A beautiful wedding in an open lawn overlooking the ocean. One little ray of sunshine with doe eyes and boxy smile. Many, many trips to the aquarium or the park or nearby children’s library. First days of school, countless birthdays, Christmases, holiday traditions. Every lovely morning of the rest of his life.

As the song comes to its bittersweet end, Taehyung’s list of infinite dreams plays in his mind like a movie without an end, just a long sequence of happy memories. And Taehyung just knows their life will always be. . . 

La vie en rose

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