Jumin would never deny the importance of networking, but sometimes the events that he's made to go to are so inane that he's tempted to write off everyone attending as either useless or a threat. Most of the events his father drags him to for the sake of his girlfriends fall into that category, and the D-list celebrity party his father's newest girlfriend insisted the chairman bring his son to is no exception. She'd specified that Jumin ought to bring a date, and after a week of arguing with his father about it Jumin finally agreed to come on the condition that he could bring Rika and V along. If not for them, Jumin would be sitting at the corner outdoor table alone and mostly helpless to the opportunistic women looking for a chance to get near his wealth that insist on speaking to him despite his best efforts to indicate to them that the only way he could possibly care less about them would be if one were to remove the visceral revulsion.

There are far too many people here. About fifteen minutes earlier, a wayward dancing foot had broken a pot and spilled soil and hydrangeas onto the floor by the deck that no one had bothered to clean up. Jumin doesn't remember the name of the person whose house the event is being held at—well, actually, he purposely made himself forget.

"Jumin?" Rika says, a bit loudly in an attempt to be heard over the blaring music. Perhaps choosing a table right next to one of the speakers wasn't such a good idea. She's swept her blonde curls into a loose bun atop her head, her bangs framing her face in a way that draws attention to her green eyes.

"Yes?" Jumin shouts back, hoping she hears him. A few people around them turn to look at them and Jumin chews his cheek in frustration. He was too loud. V shakes his head subtly at Jumin's expression and Jumin's shoulders relax. The opinions these people may hold of him are completely inconsequential.

"Are you having fun?" Rika asks.

Jumin's eyebrows knit together, unable to tell if she's being serious or not. She stands up as if to answer her question for him, the skirts of her green dress swishing around her knees as she moves around the table, and grabs both V and Jumin by the hands and tugs them out of their seats. V wore a simple long-sleeved black shirt for the occasion, and Jumin nearly collides with him as Rika pulls them toward the crowd where several people are dancing.

"Rika—" V starts.

"Come on," Rika says, and with a few words to some of the other guests clears a small space for the three of them to stand together. Jumin puts a hand on his hip, a small sign of protest. Rika tries to brush some hair behind her ear but most of it is in the bun. "Look, we're here anyway. There's no point to being miserable, right? You invited us so you wouldn't have to be."

Jumin's about to argue but he knows Rika isn't wrong. V stays silent, watching Jumin carefully.

"… Still, what are we going to do standing here?" Jumin asks. Usually he just talks to people at parties like this but there's no reason to reach out to anyone here.

"Dance, of course," Rika says.

"… It is better than sitting at a table where we can't hear each other," V agrees slowly after Jumin is silent a beat too long. Jumin looks at his friend, who meets his gaze.

"I guess that's true," Jumin says, and Rika pumps a fist in the air excitedly. Her sudden motion isn't out of place with the way people around them are moving, and she easily falls into the jumping and footwork of the others on the floor. The bass pulses up through Jumin's feet and he cranes his neck stiffly to try to spot his father over the many bobbing heads. Hopefully the man wouldn't be making a complete fool of himself, though Jumin supposes by being here in the first place he already is. After a few moments of awkward shuffling V starts dancing in rhythm with the other guests too. His friend isn't any good at it in comparison to Rika or to the D-listers, many of whom have been professionally trained in dancing. Jumin's face flushes, transfixed for a moment on the jerky way his friend's knees bend and the concentrated effort of his arm motions that don't match Rika's fluidity at all.

The song's end is superposed with the beginning of the next song, and the dancers change their movements accordingly without missing a beat. Jumin feels lost, standing mostly still in the sea of people. A hand grabs his, and he whips his head around in alarm but it's just Rika. She takes his other hand in hers too and uses her arms to propel Jumin's into motion, taking a step back to compel him to take a step forward. His eyebrows raise and he looks instinctively at V, who's watching them with a smile while continuing with his poor dancing.

"Would you like a drink?!" a person carrying a tray with shot glasses offers them in a shout. There's a bar on the far side of the yard but the host must have instructed that servers offer drinks to the guests anyway. Jumin is impressed that she made it here without spilling any.

"No," Jumin answers. He's not fond of these kinds of drinks.

"You look like you could use one," Rika jokes, shaking her head no at the server, who moves on to ask the next couple without sparing V a look.

"No," he says again, but he gets her point and tries to put a little more effort into following her in the dance. She guides him through until he's moving enough on his own for her to let go of his hands when the song changes. The sudden emptiness of his hands and the slowing of the tempo make him uncomfortable, and he watches Rika for some indication of how to keep up.

"Mr. Han!" he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns, and a woman he's never seen before takes advantage of his surprise and places her hands on his shoulders. The sudden contact cuts his breath short and he freezes.

"I'm Mi Kyong Lee," the woman introduces herself, her fingers lacing together behind Jumin's neck, his hair slipping between her fingers. His stomach churns, goosebumps pricking up all over his body. "It's so nice to meet you. I've read several of your intervi—"

He wants to shove her off but he feels like he can't move, and he curses the song for being so slow because she doesn't even seem to have noticed how still he's standing, and causing a scene here would be a terrible idea. Where are V and Rika? His head jerks around at the thought, and he sees his friends with their arms wrapped around one another, lost in each other's eyes.

"Mr. Han?"

His eyes find the woman again—she looks older than him but not by much, like the age of most of his father's girlfriends, and he feels a wave of nausea hit him. Shaking, his hands move slowly up to grip her wrists and pry her hands from his shoulders.

"Don't. Touch me." He hisses, dropping her hands and stalking away from the crowd without so much as a glance behind him. The skin of his neck and shoulders crawl and feel dirty, and he curtly informs the guard standing at the door into the house that he needs to use the restroom, not realizing until after he's headed inside and slipped off his shoes that the meaningless gibberish the guard had uttered after him were directions. Well… whatever.

It's quiet inside, a few people sitting on the couches to talk to each other and one or two in the kitchen. His eyes scan the room until he sees a hallway and assumes the restroom is down there. This is a very large apartment, to have a yard big enough for the kind of party being thrown here.

The first door Jumin opens is to a bedroom, but the second one actually is the restroom, and he locks the door before turning on the sink and splashing water onto his face. His head is spinning, the contents of his stomach mixing unpleasantly. He swallows and slowly unbuttons his suit jacket, realizing his hands are still trembling as he folds and places it on the closed toilet. Perhaps he'll just leave it here, he doesn't really want it anymore. He undoes one of the top buttons of his shirt to help him breathe easier, then grips the sink counter to steady his balance.

"Elizabeth the 3rd sheds three to twenty-eight hairs every ten minutes," he mumbles under his breath. "One bottle of wine contains about 2.8 pounds of grapes. The UK, US, Singapore, and Japan account for 71% of foreign exchange trading…"

Slowly, he feels his heart rate go down again, and the floor feels more solid. He swallows one more time, re-buttons his collar, adjusts his tie, and tugs his sleeves down again, then gives his jacket a final glance before leaving the restroom.

V and Rika must be looking for him. He moves easier now that his jacket is off, and the music has become fast-paced again. It's difficult to see them in the sea of faces, but V's hair gives them away and Jumin makes his way back into the crowd, trying not to feel nervous.

Rika waves when he re-joins them.

"Where did you go?" she asks.

"Restroom," Jumin says. V looks at him with concern, having stopped dancing.

"Are you all right?" he asks. "What happened to your jacket?"

"I took it off," Jumin shrugs. "Didn't want it." V doesn't break his gaze and Jumin looks away. "I'm fine now."

It's quiet for a moment, except for the music and the people talking around them.

"If you say so," V concedes.

"Are you two having fun?" Jumin asks, and Rika nods.

"They played a slower song and we got to dance together," she says. "It was nice… then we realized you were missing."

"Oh."

Jumin doesn't know how Rika manages to talk to him and still dance at the same time. A thought then occurs to him, and he glances around to make sure Mi Kyong Lee is out of sight.

She is.

Good.

"Gonna dance, Jumin?" Rika prompts, and Jumin nods, slowly falling back into motion. This song is the most enjoyable one they've played so far, and he stops trying to follow Rika's motions and instead just lets the rhythm compel his arms and feet. He's a quick learner and he's still doing better than V is. Perhaps when he goes home he'll watch some dancing tutorials online and try to become better at this. It's a valuable skill to have, after all.

A few more songs play and Jumin can feel himself relaxing. Rika tells jokes and talks even as they're moving, and V occasionally contributes what he knows about music production to the conversation. Jumin finds himself moving faster and more naturally and pretty soon Rika's even able to elicit a laugh from him.

When a slower song comes on, Jumin feels his muscles tense, glancing around to be sure that no one would try to touch him again. Maybe he should just sit down this time…

"Jumin?"

V is facing him with his right hand outstretched. Jumin tilts his head, expression blank.

"Would you like to dance?"

Oh…

Jumin hesitates. He does know how to dance to slower songs, but after his experience earlier he's not sure he's really ready to let another person touch him again. But… it is V.

Even as the people around them begin moving, V waits patiently, and then Jumin presses his hand to V's, lacing their fingers together. V's hand is warm, and Jumin steps forward to stand closer. Light-headedness creeps into the back of his skull, but not nearly at the level that it had earlier, so Jumin doesn't break away. V's hand feels nice in his, and he places his other on V's waist. V puts his other hand on Jumin's shoulder, closing them off from everyone else around them.

"I'm going to go see if I can get some contacts for the next party," Rika says, and Jumin glances over. For a moment he'd forgotten she was here.

"Good luck," he and V say in sync. Rika smiles at them and disappears into the crowd.

The chatter feels quieter now that they're alone, with the slow song playing.

"You asked me to dance to save me from anyone else asking, right?" Jumin says after a few moments of silence. V is better at dancing to slower music, too.

A second passes before V nods. "I'm sorry I didn't do anything to stop whoever it was earlier."

"I didn't think you saw," Jumin says.

"I didn't," V admits. "But I kind of guessed after you vanished."

It feels out of place for the song to be as loud as all the faster pop music that was playing earlier. Jumin leads the dance and V doesn't miss a beat.

"The last time we did this was at my father's wedding," Jumin says, wondering if V remembers. "You did it to save me then, too."

They were in high school then. His father met her about a year before the wedding, the only girlfriend he'd had since his separation from his first wife to convince him to actually go through with getting a divorce. Jumin dreaded the wedding and genuinely considered not going at all, but V was there to convince him to be more sensible about the kind of impact that'd have on his future relationship with his father. So many adult women at his father's wedding had wanted to dance with him, the older ones touching his face and his hair with no regard to how he felt about it. About an hour into the reception, V found Jumin sitting outside the wedding hall, his back pressed flush against the cold wall so he could feel his shoulder blades align, trying to relax. They'd sat outside together for what felt like hours but couldn't have been that long, until Jumin felt ready to return. They'd gone in together, and V danced with Jumin for the rest of the night to make sure everyone else left him alone, only leaving once when Jumin's father remembered he had children. Jumin's relationships with his half-siblings were virtually non-existent, since he was the only child Jumin's father had custody over, but they danced a 'family dance' that meant nothing except in image anyway. His father separated from his second wife less than a year later.

"I still have some of the photos you gave me from that," V says.

"I forgot I gave those to you," Jumin says.

"You said you didn't want them so I didn't bring them up again," V reminds him. "They're really nice photos, though."

Jumin smiles, though he's not sure what at. V's eyes widen, lips parting. Jumin looks behind him—what?

"I forgot… there's people here," V says, still moving but more cautiously. "Maybe I should've had Rika dance with you, since this might look like…"

V trails off and Jumin stares at him, bewildered. Dance with Rika? Look like…?

"What are you talking about," Jumin questions. V's cheeks pink slightly, which confuses Jumin more.

"The rumours…" V says, getting a blank stare in return. Jumin doesn't understand why he's beating around the—"People might think we're a couple," V elaborates at last.

"Oh," Jumin says. "But Rika already knows and is fine with it."

"I'm not worried about Rika…" V says. "I mean the media. The public. Your job, Jumin?"

"Oh," Jumin repeats, and feels his lip twitch in annoyance. "Well… we're not one. So it doesn't matter."

V stares at him with owlish bewilderment before his expression softens into a smile.

"I really admire you, Jumin."

Jumin is grateful that the song ends then, breaking his hand from V's to adjust his tie, warmth washing itself over his body. "I admire you too," Jumin says as the song transitions into a faster one. V tucks a hair behind his ear before adjusting his position for the new song. The change seems to have thrown V off because his motions are more awkward than before, and Jumin grins as he begins dancing.

"How have you not gotten tired yet?" Jumin asks over the throbbing bass.

"The slower songs are timed well for breaks," V says. "And… I'm not really putting a lot of energy into this."

"I can tell," Jumin says. V laughs, and it sounds nice so Jumin laughs too, finally feeling like he's having fun. He's been outside long enough now to be more used to the volume, and he and V keep up a conversation for the next few songs. The music feels almost sentient, sparking life into their movements like lightning across the sky, the steady beat of the bass guiding feet to the floor and up again, legs crisscrossing them left and right. Well—V looks a bit like he's being electrocuted, but the smile on his face offsets the disturbing imagery.

Jumin feels himself getting tired, and signals for V to leave the crowd with him. The table they'd been sitting at at the beginning of the party was now occupied by a group of people laughing jovially over small plates of snacks.

"I can't believe I'm actually having a good time," Jumin says, sinking down to sit on the deck beside V. The sun has started to go down, the sky streaked with pink and orange.

"I'm glad you are," V affirms, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"It's because you're here," Jumin points out, and V looks away from him to stare at the floor.

"I'm… happy that I was helpful."

Something in V's tone makes Jumin turn to look at him with an arched brow. "Of course you're helpful."

V looks about to say something when a voice interrupts them. "Oh, there you are!"

Jumin and V look up to see Rika bounding over from near the snack stand, her dress bouncing as she moves. She flounces down next to V once she reaches them.

"Rika…" V greets. She loops her arm through his, leaning her head against his arm.

"How was your dance?"

"Dances," V corrects, and Rika nods.

"That's what I meant," she says. "I forgot that talking to people can take so long."

"It was nice," Jumin answers her question.

"Good!" Rika enthuses. "V's an okay dancer when he doesn't have to move much."

"That's because dancing to fast music is hard," V justifies, nuzzling Rika's head with his cheek. Rika giggles at this, perhaps at the sensation, and turns her face to V. Their noses touch, and Jumin knows what will happen and that he should look away, but he can't stop watching them, and their lips meet.

He's finally able to tear his eyes away, his heart sinking for some unidentifiable reason. An insect crawls across one of the salmon pink bricks near his shoe and he watches it run around in little circles. The effort of dancing earlier starts settling in, body tired, and he starts pinching the skin at the base of his fingers on his left hand with the second joints of his right index and middle finger. The tension and release feels good, and he uses it to distract himself from his friends, who are talking now in voices that feel distant. The sounds of the other guests seem to fade too, though the deep bass still makes the floor beneath him vibrate. His own heart races and he can't understand why.

He glances sideways over to V and Rika again. Her hand clasps V's and his face is pointed toward her now, away from Jumin, but Jumin can imagine the adoring expression he's no doubt giving Rika. Rika's eyes sparkle, her smile dazzling, looking so happy that Jumin's heart twinges with guilt.

It's not that he's… not happy for his friends—he is. V has been the closest person to him for almost all his life, and Rika…

Rika is amazing. Selfless, kind, intelligent. Beautiful. There's no doubt in Jumin's mind as to why V would love her, no doubt in his mind that his best friend deserves someone as incredible as she is, someone who's able to reach out and understand people in a way that Jumin has never been able to, someone with experiences nothing like V's or Jumin's, who grew up together and knew so many details of each other's lives. It's no wonder V has committed himself to her so wholly, and Jumin can almost see the future in his mind. Their relationship would only strengthen, and maybe V would even ask Jumin to go with him to buy a ring to propose to her. Jumin, of course, would offer to pay for it, and V, of course, would refuse. He'd ask Jumin to be the best man at their wedding for formality even though he wouldn't need to ask, and Jumin of course would agree. They'd stand together in matching clothes that Jumin helped V select and watch as Rika approaches, the same pretty smile on her face with nothing but love in her eyes for the man at Jumin's right, and as they took their vows Jumin would step away, close enough for the guests attending to know of his importance but far enough to be safely cropped out of the photos. He'd feel the weight of the ring in his suit pocket, having watched it meticulously for the entirety of the night, ready to present it for Rika, ready to formally pass his place as the most important person in V's life onto her at a ceremony before all their friends. V and Rika would lean into each other and her arms would come together behind V's neck and, just like a minute ago, they'd kiss, and the room would fill with cheers…

He can feel it again, a wave of nausea offsetting the floor's balance, and he grips the edge of the deck to keep himself from teetering, knuckles going white. What good does it do him to imagine these hypothetical situations—and yet, he can't shake them, and they shouldn't make him feel this way, the happiness of the two greatest people he's ever known shouldn't make him sick.

Jumin glances over at them again and can't maintain his gaze, looking away. He wonders if Rika can sense it… if that's why she wrote "Hope you find the love of your life soon" on that gift bottle of wine, if that's why she tells him that he should have more attachments than to her and V. But Jumin doesn't want anyone else…

He wonders if it's just the prospect of being left out. He, V, and Rika have become something of a trio, and a consummation of their relationship in marriage might put their status as a couple ahead of his status as their friend. But… it shouldn't, right? Why would romantic love necessarily have to take precedence over friendship—over that other kind of love, which has lasted Jumin since childhood and which he opened up to Rika. That other love, which saved him on the worst nights of his life, which brought V and Rika to this event and allowed Jumin to release his inhibitions and laugh and dance and genuinely enjoy himself when he thought he was going to be miserable? That other love which can coax him out from behind the thick walls he's needed to build to keep himself safe? Rika's compassion and V's ingenuity, their shared goals and support for one another that makes them perfect for each other…

Jumin's fingers find their way to his sleeve and he runs his thumb back and forth over the button, his missing suit jacket making him feel exposed as the outdoor chill goes up his spine. He wonders if V and Rika notice how quiet he's gone. He hopes not, wouldn't want them worrying…

He needs to be more positive, to shake these ugly feelings away. As the best man, he'd get to dance with both V and Rika, like he did tonight. The stress would melt away, just the same, but it would be better because it'd be a party he'd want to be at—a happy party, a celebration of V and Rika and of their endless love and it would be good and fun. Yoosung and Luciel would be there, and Zen too, and perhaps for once Zen would actually keep his mouth shut about not wanting to be near Jumin and just enjoy himself. Rika would put her hand in Jumin's like V did earlier that night, and by then Jumin will have brushed up on his dance skills and it would be glorious, him and Rika together, V standing aside and watching them with happiness at how well his lover and his best friend get along together… Jumin would see Rika up close, her glittering green eyes, her soft hair, she'd look up at him in earnest, smile never fading for a second, and Jumin would feel…

He remembers the suit jacket folded on the toilet seat, the dizziness, the smile on V's face—

Dirty.

He'd feel dirty, to be at his best friend's wedding and enjoying his dance with Rika. To be at his best friend's wedding and feel the kind of nausea he did when a stranger put her arms around him without his consent. It makes sense but it's terrible—Rika looks at him with eyes of utmost understanding, like she's seen everything he is, through every precaution he's taken to try to stop it. She looks at him like she knows, and maybe that's what's caused this, that he understands so well what it is that V adores about her and that maybe Jumin adores it too. That maybe Jumin could… feel as V feels, too. There's no other way to explain this awful jealousy that fills him. It must be that love, the love that V talks about, that Jumin never wanted to know or understand. That love which can only lead to his destruction, which Jumin wondered might lead to V's destruction before he got to know Rika, to know how genuine and good she is and the kind of light she brings to V's life. The kind of light she brings to all their lives, which Jumin and V couldn't have had on their own without her. Yes… how could Jumin not have fallen for her too? But he needs to stop… needs this to end… needs to—

"Jumin!"

V and Rika's voices shake him from his trance and he looks up with wide eyes at them, Rika's bangs dangling near his face, V's jaw clenched but relaxing when Jumin's eyes meet his.

"Sorry," Jumin looks away uncomfortably. "I got distracted."

"You always do," Rika says warmly. "Nothing to apologize for."

"Mm."

He tries to stand but the dizziness lands him on the deck again.

"Are you feeling all right?" V asks, concern laced in his voice. Jumin pinches his nose, frustrated with himself for letting them see him this way.

"I'm a bit dizzy," he says. "I… think it's all the noise."

Rika takes out her phone from a pocket in her dress and looks at it briefly before putting it away again. "It looks like the party will be over soon," she says reassuringly.

V offers Jumin his hand to help him up and Jumin takes it, it's as warm as it was earlier and not clammy at all and when he's on his feet and V lets him go, Jumin runs his fingers through his hair.

"Should we get some water?" Rika asks.

"Do they even have water here…" Jumin mutters, and Rika laughs.

"Of course they do! Here, follow me, I found it earlier when I was talking to people," she says, walking off to weave through the crowd.

Jumin takes a deep breath.

"You look kind of pale," V comments. "Maybe you should eat something… I saw people with chapssal donuts earlier."

"Too sweet," Jumin says, but starts following Rika through the crowd. "You're right, though, of course. I should probably eat something."

He hears a soft laugh behind him and smiles to himself instinctively at the sound, a small chill running up his spine through the haze and the dizziness and he knows he wants to hear it again, wants to see V's smile again, wants to live for a long time as V's friend and to know that V is happy. Feeling this way is his mistake, not V's or Rika's or anyone else's, and if he can't make it go away then he'll wear the smile forever, even if he has to fake it. Their love, their future, and Jumin's love for them as their friend are more important than attachments that he never should have had.

A/N: … Most of my inspiration for fic comes from music, I'm starting to realize, but I've been looping The Killers' "Hot Fuss" for about two months now and the entire album has inspired probably at least six JuminV fics that I've started and not finished yet. This one was inspired by "Mr. Brightside" (probably because just going off of the lyrics you can't exactly tell who it is the singer is jealous of, or if he's jealous of both the man and the woman). It ended up turning into something of an exploration of compulsory heterosexuality and trying to explain away his feelings for V as feelings for Rika. It was pretty fun to write, though I regret that it turned out so sad. I hope you guys are enjoying the Christmas update (as a JuminV fan I think so far most of us are probably just sobbing honestly). Thanks for reading and reviews are always appreciated!