"Dear God. If I hear "All I want for Christmas is you" one more time, I am going to scream. And you can't stop me."

Cue the DJ hired for the company's Christmas party putting the offending track on play. 

"Fuuuuu..." A hand none-too-gently slammed down to stifle Kibum's infuriated yell. "Kibum-ah. This happens once every year. Could you not relax for just one bit?"

"Lskdfjglkhv." Kibum incoherently murmured through Minho's hand as his narrowed eyes glared threateningly at the offending man.

"Nope. Not gonna let you go until you promise to behave... ouch! Dammit, Kibum!" Minho roars, pulling his bitten hand back and nursing it close to his chest. Kibum quirks up his slashed eyebrow and smiles challengingly at his legal department colleague/best friend, who was admittedly looking like old-school Hollywood royalty in his dark blue, slim-fitting, double-ed Givenchy suit that perfectly suited his tall, lithe athletic build.

"You could warn a body like a civilized fellow, you know. I'll sue you for assault upon my person."

"Whatever, Mr. Hotshot Attorney. You attacked me first."

"Well, excuse me for trying to keep the Christmas spirit alive." 

"Better have that bite checked out for rabies, babe." A platinum blond man rebelliously wearing a black gold-buttoned gakuran, wifebeaters, shredded jeans and heavy boots to the formal event appeared beside the pair.   

"Jonghyunie-hyung!” Kibum whined at the newcomer. “You're my teammate, so you're supposed to take my side. Take your man away, please!" 

Kim Jonghyun grinned up at Kibum and fist-bumped his boyfriend. "Nah. He takes precedence on account of his conjugal rights."

Minho smirked and snuck an arm around the smaller man's waist. "Babe, I love it when you do legal talk. Mind if I enforce my conjugal rights later?" 

Kibum made a gagging sound. 

Jonghyun rolled his eyes. "Stuff it, Kib. It's Christmas. We're allowed to be as cheesy as we like." To emphasize, the petite man stood on tiptoe, while his boyfriend leaned down to receive the kiss with a smile on his face.

Kibum rolled his eyes at the disgusting display. "I'm way too sober for this ."

Jonghyun waved him away while still making out with his boyfriend, and then called out, "Go forth and be merry, my dear padawan. Don't let that Tom Ford ensemble go to waste, and don't do what I wouldn't." 

Minho chimed in, "You're not allowed to do me, though." Then, crow laugh.

"You're a pig, Choi Minho," he retorts while walking away from the sickeningly sweet couple. 

The smile on his face faded as he widened the distance between him and the couple. How in the world was he going to tell them?

With a heavy sigh, Kibum made his way through the rowdy crowd aka his company colleagues in full drunken revelry on the hotel ballroom floor to the (hopefully well-stocked) open bar.

If he weren't mistaken, he was only 15 minutes late and pretty much everyone was already wasted and unruly. An overly hyper couple with a total disregard for other people while they were dancing and making out barreled into him, causing him to become inelegantly deposited across the lap of an unfortunate person sitting at one of the tables closest to the floor. 

He murmured an absentminded apology to the guy and sent a hard glare toward the blissfully unaware couple as he walked away. "I give them a month." 

At 27, Kibum knew that he's way too young to be so cynical about love and dating, but he couldn't help his views after having witnessed many of his friends' relationships fall by the wayside in the past year alone. As for himself, his work was way too demanding for anything permanent. A one-night playmate was easy enough to find when the need arose.

But there were times when he envied what those two goofballs had: a domestic arrangement, a comic bromance filled with shared interest in sports and good-natured bickering, and a worthy life (if Jonghyun were to be believed) all rolled into one. If he were being honest with himself, he would say that he envied the warmth of being in a loving romantic relationship with a friend the most. He wondered at times what it would be like to have someone like that to come home to. 

You have more things to worry about than your love life, Kibum. With another sigh, he said to the bartender, "I suppose it would be too much to ask if you have some Hibiki 17 years."  it, it's Christmas. I'm getting royally smashed.  

"Good choice. And they actually have it here." 

Kibum was shocked at how the company was generous enough to provide the booze despite the hefty price tag.  However, he wasn't exactly in the mood to talk about it. He surveyed the newcomer from the corner of his eye. Medium height, that odd mix of slim and stocky, mahogany hair, handsome enough face. His voice sounded nice. The man appeared absorbed in reading the labels on the booze cabinet out loud (correctly, Kibum noted), then continued, "I actually prefer that one. I like smoky whiskeys like Laphroig more than the sweet ones." He apparently knew his liquor. 

Kibum turned his attention back to the bartender, who nodded his head. "I'll have a double, neat, please." He tried to ignore the newcomer. 

"I'd buy you this drink, but it's already on the company tab." 

Eyeroll.

After downing his drink in one go, he signaled the bartender for a refill. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the man was still there drinking water, which was odd considering how he seemed into liquors earlier.

He had to laud the man's persistence, though. Kibum was just about to finally tell him off when the guy suddenly laughed and said in a rueful tone, "Ok, that was lame and probably a little creepy. I'm really bad at this, and this wasn't exactly the first impression that I wanted you to have of me. I apologize."

Curiosity piqued against his will because of the unexpected admission, Kibum looked at the man properly for the first time and almost staggered when hit full force by the self-deprecating grin that transformed the man's face from pleasantly handsome to heart-stoppingly radiant. That's so not fair. 

Dear God, what are you?

"I'm Onew, not God," the man said with a surprisingly shy smile on his face (considering how douchey he was being earlier), and Kibum realized that he had spoken aloud. It took all his strength to keep himself from doing a facepalm.

The man called Onew continued, "I saw you when you arrived, and I really wanted to meet you."

Unnerved by his stupefied reaction to the man's smile, Kibum sipped on his drink to ground himself and then deliberately took the outstretched hand. "Kibum." His mind scrambled for something else to say. Think, Kibum, think! "Do you work here?" DO YOU WORK HERE?  

His mind was a headless chicken.

You could have asked him about his weird name, you know.

Onew let out a little chuckle (so potent, much to Kibum's dismay and delight) and said, "You could say that I'm with tonight's staff." Pretty well-dressed for staff, he thought as he eyed the other man's well-fitted suit, which tailoring and fit evidently screamed Dior to Kibum's experienced eye. He also didn't just totally check out the man's physique. Nope. 

Before Kibum could say another word, he heard a message alert. The other man took out his phone and glanced at the screen. "I really have to go, but I'll look for you again later, ok?" 

Kibum couldn't think of anything else to say but "Ok."

It was totally unheard of, Kibum being unable to think of anything clever to say. He's not sure how to feel about it. 

***

Kim Kibum is not really a fan of surprises. He likes planning and ticking off check lists and organization. At times, it's even a point of pride that his meetings with other people were perfectly orchestrated. Even his one-night stands were carefully selected and deliberately homed and locked in, complete with background checks.

However, the second surprise of the evening (the first being his unusual reaction to a stranger) came in the form of said stranger sitting down in front of a grand piano wheeled into the center of the dance floor when the DJ took his break. 

At first, he thought it was just his alcohol-addled mind (after about four refills of his fine whiskey) playing tricks on him, but there he was, that incandescent dude in his heather gray Dior suit blinding everyone with his smile under that spotlight, and then he was addressing the company crowd in the warmest voice that Kibum's ever heard. 

"Hi, I'm Onew. Your company bosses were nice enough to invite me although I'm not really that good." Then, a slight chuckle that sent shivers up and down Kibum's spine. "Even so, I'm glad to be here, and although I'm pretty sure you'd rather be dancing to EDM or pop music so masterfully churned out by our awesome DJ, DJ Koo," he motioned to the bald man, who bowed at the smattering of applause and cheers, "I hope you could enjoy my set." Then, he settled his hands on the piano and went to town. 

Onew was more than an adequate piano player. He was gifted enough that he got most of the primarily millenial workforce on their feet trying to dance to an eclectic mix of Sinatra, the Beegees, Disney, Hyukoh and EXO, even having them attempt waltzing to Louis Armstrong. However, despite being a good dancer himself and having numerous colleagues try to drag him to the dance floor, Kibum felt no such compulsion to join the writhing bodies on the floor and was perfectly content to be sitting by the bar and be lulled into somnolence by the man's voice, which felt like a flannel blanket, a hot cocoa, and a hug by the fire on a frigid day. 

To clear his head, Kibum asked for cold water. No