The party venue turns out to be another classy, penthouse apartment in the center of the city, with a clear view of the colorful London Eye in the distance. Unlike Chanyeol’s place, the owner chose to decorate it like it was a palace with wing back chairs, Victorian sofas and ottomans, gleaming mahogany tables, and floor to ceiling drapes in expensive fabrics.

Though everybody else lounged or strolled comfortably around the place, Jongin was honestly scared to touch, much less sit on anything. That all changed when he met the lucky owner of the place—Jongdae. The small man was literally a ball of energy, and in the five minutes it’d taken for Junmyeon to introduce them, Jongdae had spilled wine on himself, on the floor, and toppled over a vase full of flowers with his flailing arms as he told a story.

Jongdae laughed. “I better go find a broom and mop to clean this up. It was very nice meeting you Jongin.”

“Nice meeting you—” But Jongdae was already off and away chattering with someone else. “Too….Is he always like this?”

“No,” Junmyeon says, hiding a grin behind his hand. “He’s worse around my brother and Baekhyun. I used to call them little terrors when we were kids, but then Chanyeol grew. Now they’re just terrors.”

Jongin chuckles. “I wish I’d had brothers or sisters.”

“You were an only child?”

“I don’t know.”

“How so?”

After their long night of conversation three days ago, Jongin feels comfortable enough to answer. “I was an orphan.” He honestly can’t remember the last time he talked about this. When was the last time he let anyone get this close? “A lovely couple…My adoptive parents brought me to the UK with them when I was just a baby. They took care of me, gave me an education, and let me make my life when I turned old enough.”

Junmyeon nods. “Where are they now?”

“They died.” He feels the numbness at the edges of his heart. “Car accident five years ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Junmyeon says softly.

Jongin hates it when people tell him that, because he hates the underlying pity that comes with it. But he doesn’t hear that in Junmyeon’s words. There’s only sincerity. “Thank you,” Jongin says, his voice catching a bit.

“Let me get you something to drink. Get this party started and all that, okay? Wait here.” Junmyeon squeezes Jongin’s shoulder and then heads to the kitchen, weaving among the other guests.

The small gesture is oddly comforting. No one has taken care of him since his adoptive parents died. Sure, Sehun is there for him, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same to have Junmyeon, who only just met him a few days ago, take care of him. First, by walking him home and feeding him in the process. Then, by making sure he didn’t celebrate another New Years alone. And now, by making him feel comfortable in an environment where he feels like a complete outsider.

There’s a fluttering in his chest that is getting harder and harder to ignore for what it really is.

“Jongin?”

He glances up and does a double-take. “Sehun? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Sehun takes the seat beside him. “I thought you were at a thing with your fiancé’s family and I see you flirting with a gorgeous little man.”

“I am at the thing.” Jongin points at the kitchen island where the refreshments have been laid out. Junmyeon is preparing the drinks. “That’s Chanyeol’s older brother.”

Sehun makes a duck face. “Interesting. You never told me you liked both brothers.”

 “I-I don’t…I mean, I didn’t—That’s not true.”

Sehun raises a hand. “Save it. You know it’s futile to hide anything from me.”

“I’m so screwed.” Jongin sags against the wall. He can’t fall for Junmyeon. He’s supposed to be Chanyeol’s fake fiancé! “I’m so, so screwed.”

Sehun laughs. “This is going to be fun.”

Jongin glares at his best friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here because my hot date promised Jongdae to make an appearance,” Sehun says. “Apparently they’re old friends or something.”

“Who’s your date? I thought you were going out with our pizza delivery guy?”

“That was last month.”

Jon