The Chateau Mormont is even more gorgeous in person than the brochure promised; the still photographs incapable of capturing the magnificence of the vineyard — its luscious greenery surrounded by a calm, mirror-still lake or the gardens of orchid in full bloom, set against miles and miles of endless blue sky.

It’s the perfect place to fall in love, Jaejoong thinks, stepping into the sweet spring sunshine. Even the weather is perfect.

A well-worn dirt path takes Jaejoong past the gardens to the entrance of the Chateau, where hanging glass chandeliers and a large winding staircase greet him.

He steps through the intricately carved doors and takes the stairs, palm gently grazing the aged mahogany support as his feet sink into plush Venetian carpet.

It’s perfect.

And just when Jaejoong thinks he cannot fall in love with the Chateau anymore than he already has, the sight at the top of the stairwell takes his breath away.

It’s Yunho.

Clad in a dove grey suit, leaning casually against the bannisters, Yunho is the picture of elegance. He is talking to their sommelier, his head tilted back in laughter, revealing the long line of his neck. He looks so happy, so incredibly young and vibrant and handsome that Jaejoong finds himself rooted to the top of the stairs, catching his breath.

He stands there, transfixed and that’s when Yunho turns around, catching Jaejoong’s surprised gaze.

It is as if time slows down for the two of them, and all Jaejoong can see is Yunho walking towards him, backlighted by the glass chandeliers which cast a soft halo on his chestnut hair. 

All Jaejoong can hear is the rapid pounding of his heart roaring in his ears as he stands, rooted to the spot, helplessly drawn to Yunho like a moth to a flame.

And now, Yunho stands before him, impossibly real and handsome, like a charming prince in a fairytale. He bends, takes Jaejoong’s hand, and gently brushes a soft kiss to the back of his knuckles.

Looking into those brilliant hazel eyes, Jaejoong forgets how to breathe.

“You’re here,” Yunho says.

“I—“ can’t imagine being anywhere else, Jaejoong thinks, but then he blushes and tugs his hand from Yunho’s grasp. “We shouldn’t— people are starting to stare.”

“Let them,” Yunho says, cupping the back of Jaejoong’s neck as he leans closer, as if to kiss his cheek. Jaejoong’s heart stutters in his chest, at their nearness, and the feeling of Yunho’s warm hand on his neck, anchoring him. 

Yunho’s lips skate lightly past Jaejoong’s ear as he whispers, urgently, “I had to convince our sommelier that you are my fiancee. She is an aggressive one, that Jessica.”

“Oh,” Jaejoong says, the force of Yunho’s words coldly slamming him back into reality. “O-of course.”

Yunho pulls away with a mischievous smile, “I’m glad you’re finally here.”

Jaejoong clears his throat, willing himself out of the fairytale stupor the Chateau, and Yunho’s convincing act had cast over him. He steps back to put some distance between them and says a little stiffly, “you’re early.”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Yunho teases, which makes Jaejoong crinkle his nose, “I believe our sommelier would beg to differ.”

“It’s a big winery,” Jaejoong says, a little petulantly, “I got lost.”

“I guess we can’t all have an impeccable sense of direction.” Yunho grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You are way too cheery for eight in the morning.”

“Jaejoong,” Yunho deadpans, “you invited me here, at eight in the morning to drink free and expensive alcohol. I think it would be hard to find a reason for me not to be cheery.”

Point, Jaejoong concedes as Yunho chivalrously holds out an arm. 

“Are you ready?”

Jaejoong turns to see their sommelier approach, her hair pulled in a bouncy high ponytail atop her head.

“I’m Jessica,” she sing-songs, “follow me this way, please.”

And that’s where it all goes down hill.

 

“Remind me of your name?” Jessica says, syrupy sweet as she closes the heavy oak doors behind her.

Jaejoong blinks. “I’m Kim Jaejoong—“

“Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence Mr Kim, I’m sure you already know at an exclusive place like the Chateau de Mormont, we have no tolerance for tardiness.”

“Well—“

“Wine is an art form that deserves respect,” Jessica continues, her tone becoming shriller as she speaks, “we are serious connoisseurs of wine. if you believe your schedule is more important than punctuality then perhaps you should have thought twice about signing up for this exclusive package. There are other, cheaper wineries that also offer recreational wine tasting classes which may be more suitable to your tastes.”

She glares at him from over her glasses and Jaejoong feels himself sink lower into his seat.

“I think we get the point,” Yunho says, curtly just as Jessica purses her lips, ready to start on another scathing tirade. “Let’s move on with the program.”

In a flash, Jessica’s disapproving scowl melts into a simpering smile.

“Right you are, Mr Jung,” she titters, “as always. It’s such a gorgeous day and we wouldn’t want to forgo such fortuitous weather. Let’s move on to the tasting.”

When Jessica walks away, busying herself with the wine glasses, Jaejoong finds a warm hand on his knee, squeezing for the briefest of seconds.

“Ignore her,” Yunho mouths, rolling his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Fermented grape juice can wait five extra minutes.”

Jaejoong stifles a quiet laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and relaxes, wondering how Yunho can turn only the most exclusive of experiences into something so completely mundane.

“Thank you for waiting,” Jessica says, primly placing three half filled glasses of wine before Jaejoong, “we will being our tasting with a French Pinot Gris.”

Jessica launches into a twenty-five minute mind-numbingly boring history of the Pinot grape and the region it was harvested. As she natters on about the French peninsula and soil acidity, Jaejoong feels his eyes glaze over. His mind drifts back to the wedding, all white, in a chapel, naturally, Ara in a sweetheart-cut gown, and yards and yards of tulle, and--

“Mr Kim,” Jessica says, sharply, and Jaejoong jolts awake from his wonderful daydream of white silk and lace.

“Yes?”

She sighs, long sufferingly, then enunciates, like Jaejoong is a very impaired two year old, “your Pinot Gris, if you please.”

Jaejoong stares at the selection of three white wines, placed in a straight row before them. Jaejoong blinks – they all look the same, and he’s pretty sure they’re all going to taste the same. And really, how is he to know which one is the Pinot Gris if they don’t have labels like soju bottles do, and really what would have listening about the soil acidity have helped with deciphering which white was which—

Panicking, he glances over at Yunho who is easily reclined in his chair, hiding his amused smile behind a wine glass.

Yunho catches his eye, and subtly taps the leftmost glass with his fingers, indicating Jaejoong should start from there. He picks it up and lets out an audible sigh when Jessica primly nods and moves on.

“Good,” Jessica says, “now swirl, and smell.”

Yunho swirls the glass, his long elegant fingers resting lightly on the stem and raises it to his nose, lightly. Jaejoong tries to copy the smooth motion, to little avail, almost tipping half the mixture onto himself.

“It smells spicy, almost like pepper.”

Jaejoong thinks the assertion is ridiculous – but coming from Yunho’s smooth, dulcet tone, it’s very near convincing and Jessica coos, beaming at him.

“Very interesting observation, Mr Jung,” she says, leaning over him so her cleavage is in his clear line of sight, “you have a very refined palate. Indeed, many wine experts have noted Pinot Grigio varieties to be very crisp and refreshing, which may account for the spiciness you encountered.”

Jaejoong inhales deeply into his glass, expecting to smell gochujang and pretty much smells… nothing.

“Um,” he hesitates, blanking, “I smell roses?”

Jessica turns away from fussing over Yunho to frown disapprovingly at Jaejoong. “Florals are not a common descriptor for this type of wine, Mr Kim. Perhaps you should try again,” she sniffs delicately, “but that is all right, not everyone has the kind of palate suited to enjoy wine.”

Jaejoong is just about to sink a little deeper in his seat when he feels Yunho’s fingers, warm on his own.

“Excuse me,” Yunho says pointedly, “my fiancée and I are trying to enjoy this bonding experience together which is difficult with you antagonizing him.”

“Sorry Mr Jung,” Jessica simpers, batting her eyelashes dramatically, “you’re right of course, let’s just move along.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Jaejoong murmurs miserably under his breath to Yunho, when Jessica finally turns away.

“It’s okay,” Yunho says, his glare melting away into a fond smile as he turns toward Jaejoong, “neither do I. But that’s what this is about isn’t it? Learning to enjoy wine.”

“It’s not very enjoyable,” Jaejoong grumbles.

“Well, I can drink to that,” Yunho says and Jaejoong manages a soft laugh when Yunho clinks their glasses.

Jaejoong sips tentatively from his glass, and almost struggles not to spit the liquid out the second it touches his tongue. The acidic taste goes down hard, burning down his throat and he almost chokes on the bitter lingering aftertaste.

“Oh my God,” Jaejoong coughs, a minute later, “what is that?”

Apparently Yunho feels the same, because he shudders a little as he places his glass down, and pushes it far away from himself. “Obviously a drink neither of us can appreciate it.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing Ara couldn’t make it back from New York,” Jaejoong says wryly. “I’m sure she would have fired me as her wedding planner for this.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Yunho says, wryly, “unlike us plebs, Ara actually can appreciate fine wine. I think she would get along quite well with Jessica, actually.”

“Oh god,” Jaejoong groans quietly, watching as across the room Jessica begins pouring out three more glasses of red wine, “I can’t believe we have to sit through six more glasses of this.”

“Well, technically we don’t have to.”

“We don’t?”

“We could just. Leave?”

Jaejoong shakes his head with a laugh, suddenly noticing the way Yunho’s warm honey colored eyes sparkle in amusement, how they crinkle at the edges when he smiles.

He swallows, and his throat is dry. This time, maybe not just from the wine.

Jessica walks back and leans over, casually brushing Yunho’s shoulder with her fingers, a phony smile plastered on her face. “Gentlemen, are you ready to share your thoughts on the wine?”

“Well,” Jaejoong says briskly, taking a cue from Yunho, who is goading him on, pulling silly faces behind Jessica’s back, “I thought it tasted like rotting vegetation.”


 

It is a remarkably satisfying feeling to watch Jessica’s face crumple in confusion and then outrage. Jaejoong steadies himself for an angry outburst…

That never comes.

“We will leave now, thank you for the lesson,” Yunho says calmly, he reaches for Jaejoong’s hand under the table, intertwining their fingers, and then he takes off, so quickly, Jaejoong is almost dizzy from the vertigo.

And just like that, they sweep out of the Chateau, leaving behind a gaping Jessica who stares helplessly after them.

They run gleefully, like naughty children, down the mahogany staircases, through the winding dirt path, and they don’t stop until they’re collapsing into fits of giggles, panting hard in front of Yunho’s midnight blue Corvette.

“Come on,” Yunho says, throwing open the passenger door, “we didn’t get much of a head start.”

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Jaejoong says, his cheeks are flushed from exertion and laughter, but he sobers up, “this was all meant for you.”

“I didn’t like seeing her treat you like that,” Yunho says simply and Jaejoong feels his heart melt a little, at the protectiveness on Yunho’s face. “Also, you can’t deny that was some pretty ty wine.”

Jaejoong laughs, mirthfully. No, he agrees, he really, really can’t.

“Come on,” Yunho says, smiling, like they’re sharing a secret. “I have a better idea.”