Sehun doesn’t like socializing.  It’s a simple fact.  He doesn’t enjoy having to plaster a smile on his face, shake hands with people he cares nothing for and will no doubt be forgotten in the next half an hour.  There’s nothing to gain through menial pleasantries and sweaty palms aside from a possible headache and the need to pull out the antibacterial hand sanitizer from his pocket.  Nothing about wandering around in a room full of men and women he avoids on a daily basis makes him comfortable.

So it’s also safe to say, Sehun doesn’t like office parties.

The music is woefully festive and the lobby is decorated with garlands of greens and reds and golds all strung together and tacked around the walls along with the random smattering of candy canes that dangle in the dips.  Everyone around him is someone from the company, someone who has an office or a cubicle and Sehun’s sure he knows all their names by now - just not their faces.

Sehun’s place is in the mailroom, sorting letters and packages and distributing them into the carts so another employee can wheel them up to the correct recipient.  On the occasion, when someone calls out sick, Sehun has to man the cart, scowling and doing his job as quickly and as inobtrusively as possible.  His entire goal is to go unnoticed.

“Ah, Sehun!”  A hand claps down on Sehun’s shoulder and he scowls at being discovered in the corner, a watered down drink clutched tight to his chest.  “You made it.”

It’s Lu Han from the fifth floor, office 5D at the end of the hall, human resources department and he’s wearing a reindeer headband with bells on the ends of the antlers.  It goes remarkably well with his broad smile and crinkled eyes, all things considered.  Sehun grants him a proprietary smile and hopes Lu Han will find someone else to draw his attention.

“What are you doing all by your lonesome?” Lu Han questions, the drink in his hand sloshing dangerously.  Sehun wants to grab his hands to still the glass before the wine makes it over the edge, but he doesn’t.  He settles for peering at Lu Han with his eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know anyone here,” he counters.

“Nonsense,” Lu Han scoffs with a wave of his hand.  “You know me.  And there are plenty of other people, although I think most of the pretty ladies are over by the mistletoe.  Jongin hung it there earlier and has been lurking under the doorway for over an hour.”

Which explains why Sehun had to endure an uncomfortable pat down when he showed up, Jongin stealing his chapstick out of his pocket with a triumphant laugh before darting off.  Sehun’s going to demand he buy him a fresh pack on Monday when they go back to work.

“Come on, we’ll make the rounds together.”

Sehun makes a squeak of protest, but Lu Han is persistent, linking an arm in the crook of Sehun’s elbow and pulling him out of his corner.  They’re nearing a clump of people Sehun has no desire to converse with, so he takes a huge swallow of his drink, hoping the alcohol in the punch is enough to take the edge off.

Everyone is happy - mostly because of the free booze and the fact that holiday bonus checks were issued that morning - and Sehun discovers that he doesn’t really need to do much more than stand there.  Lu Han does all the talking for him, introductions spilling from his mouth like a second nature.  It’s no wonder he’s in human resources.

Sehun smiles and shakes hands.  He refills his punch without ice and drinks it down until there’s nothing left and his mind is just a bit fuzzy.  All the colors seem to blend into a medley of Christmas and Sehun scrunches his nose at the paper tree in the middle of the snack table because he’s never really thought red and green looked good together.  They clash, red too robust a color to hang out with dull, drab old green.

Sehun flicks at one of the branches, snorting out a laugh when the tree wobbles, spinning a little before righting itself.  Yeah, he’s tipsy.  Lu Han isn’t with him anymore and Sehun twists around to see Lu Han hanging off someone else.  He hears a snippet of conversation and is amused to discover that Lu Han believes the man beside him is Sehun.  It’s the perfect opportunity to sneak off without notice.

Enough people have seen his face to know that he was here, so Sehun heads for the door as stealthily as he can lest Lu Han realize his mistake and come hunting for him.  He breathes out a sigh of relief when his freedom is in sight, a stack of coats his only obstacle.  His is buried in the pile somewhere and it’s hard to differentiate his leather jacket between the others, fingers fumbling through layer after layer.

The double doors open, letting in a gust of biting, cold wind and Sehun shivers, casting a glare over at the culprit only for his heart to stop, purpose forgotten.  Zhang Yixing - the son of the company owner and occupant of the office on the seventh floor, two down from his father and decorated with a little wreath on the outside - has just arrived.  There’s a billowing red scarf around his neck, wrapped in endless loops that cover his neck and most of his face.  Sehun sees the curve of his eyes and the pink tip of his nose and his mouth goes dry.

It’s such a tantalizing image - Sehun’s fingers bend, wanting to reach out and bury in the folds of red, find Yixing underneath the vivid fabric.  No one has ever made the color look so alluring.

Yixing makes it to Sehun’s side, already unwinding his scarf as Sehun watches, stricken with a nauseating sort of wonder because he’s always liked Yixing.  The few times he’s wheeled a squeaky mail cart into his office, Yixing has been there, smiling and asking him about his day, offering to let him sit a moment on the small couch by the door if he wants because it must be tiring walking around all day.

If it were any other person, Sehun would politely decline and continue on his way to avoid any sort of further communication, but Yixing is an exception.  Yixing is the only exception.  The first time Sehun laid eyes on him, Yixing was smiling, his long dark hair falling in his eyes until he swept it aside and Sehun’s stomach had dropped.  The attraction was instant, burning deep and Sehun has prided himself on keeping his hands to himself, but Yixing is making it very difficult.

“Leaving so soon?” Yixing asks when he catches sight of Sehun.

Sehun nods, hands still buried in the mountain of coats as Yixing sheds his own and sets it on top.  “It’s late,” he gives as an excuse, albeit a flimsy one.

Yixing laughs, a sweet tinkling that makes Sehun’s ears heat.  “It’s not that late for a friday night.  Do you have other plans or can you spare a little more time for my sake?”

“Um,” Sehun begins with a of his lips, “I don’t have anything planned, no.”

“Great.”  Yixing links his arms with Sehun’s much the same way as Lu Han had only this time, Sehun doesn’t want to pull away.  “You can be my .”

Still tipsy, Sehun is a little confused when he ends up back in the center of the party when he was so sure he was about to leave and spare himself the inevitable hangover in the morning from drinking too much.  But Yixing is at his side, smiling and laughing and tugging Sehun around as if he’s incapable of doing so himself.

Sehun feels warm, limbs heavy and heart beating rapidly.  He spies Jongin lounging against one of the doorways with a sloppy grin, a cup in each hand and several of the women from accounting in his orbit.  Lu Han is also gravitating in that direction, pulling who Sehun now recognises as Yifan from the secretarial pool along.  He probably still thinks he’s Sehun and Yifan is too polite to correct him.

“Mistletoe!” Lu Han squawks in delight.  “Kiss me Sehun!”

Sehun’s jaw drops and he sidesteps out of view when he sees Yifan’s eyes grow large as Lu Han drags him down by his collar.  That was a close call.

“Are you alright?” comes a voice near his ear and Sehun jumps a little, gazing down at a concerned looking Yixing.  “How much have you had to drink?”

Sehun looks down at the cup in his hand.  When had he picked that up?  At least it explains why he feels so heated and off kilter.  “Come on, let’s get you some air.”

Yixing leads and Sehun stumbles after.  The elevator is small, a box barely big enough for the two of them to fit inside without it feeling cramped and Sehun sways to the terrible music that crackles through the speaker.  At his side, Yixing is watching fondly although Sehun is unsure why and he’s definitely sure it’s Yixing and not the elevator that makes him feel like he’s about to be plunged into ice water when the ding goes off and they step out.

He recognizes the wreath on the outside of Yixing’s door before he realizes they’re walking down the hall and he lets out a soft ‘oh’ of surprise before he’s dragged inside the office.  It’s quiet and the only light in the room a dim lamp that rests on the desk.  “Why are we here?” Sehun inquires, still tripping forward because Yixing is guiding him further in.

He’s crowded against the desk, the edge digging into the backs of his thighs and Sehun blinks down at Yixing, heart pitter-pattering up a storm beneath his ribs.  “Is this better?” Yixing asks with a tilt of his head.

“Better?”  All Sehun can see is Yixing’s mouth, lips red and parted and are they stained with wine?  Sehun swallows, unable to think, the gears in his brain that would tell him to stop right now before you end up fired clogged with longing and the desire to, just once, go for what he wants.

Sehun leans forward, expecting Yixing to back away, but he doesn’t.  He peers up at Sehun with such a challenging look, as if daring him to do it.  So Sehun does.  He grabs Yixing by his collar and bends for a kiss.  His lips are soft, yielding easily and Yixing makes this little noise of encouragement that drives Sehun, has him wanting more.

Sehun sees red behind his eyes, tastes it in the wine still leftover on Yixing’s tongue.  Yixing’s breath is hot on his face and Sehun wraps an arm around him in an attempt to keep him from ever escaping.

It’s one kiss after another, Yixing bringing Sehun down so he doesn’t have to stand on his tip-toes and Sehun nearly toppling them both over because he’s still not sober.  In fact, he thinks Yixing’s kisses are making him drunk, addicting enough to make his head spin and cheeks burn with a blush.

Yixing draws back and Sehun follows, losing his balance and tipping forward way too far until Yixing rights him with hands on his arms.  Yixing is looking up at him with a sweet smile that Sehun wants to kiss, but he’s out of reach and Sehun uncharacteristically pouts.

“I think it’s time to get you in a cab home,” Yixing says softly.

“I want to stay with you,” Sehun admits and then gapes because he really didn’t mean to say that aloud.

Yixing laughs, surprising Sehun with a kiss on his cheek.  “When you’re sober, I’m going to ask you on a date,” he explains.  “And we’ll do this the right way.”

Sehun feels all bubbly, bouncing on his heels even as he’s freezing, standing by the door with Yixing at his side as they wait for a cab.  Yixing has his red scarf on again and Sehun keeps reaching for it, Yixing eventually stealing his hand and lacing their fingers together to make him stop.

Sehun eventually succeeds in stealing one last kiss, nosing his way through the layers of Yixing’s scarf to press his lips to Yixing’s before he’s pushed into his cab, still laughing.  “You’re incorrigible,” Yixing laughs, but he’s blushing and Sehun’s heart is hammering.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday,” Yixing affirms with a nod.  “When we’re sober and hangover free.”

“It’s a date.”  Sehun closes the door to the cab before Yixing can protest, grinning like an idiot and nearly giving the driver the wrong address.  Monday is going to be a good day.