Summary: The trainees let off some steam at a house party. SM holds an important photoshoot.

A.N.: Yay! We made it to the first big story milestone. I can’t believe we’re finally here. This chapter was a refreshing change after all the angsty stuff I’ve been putting Yunjae through. And the next few chapters should be a lot of fun to write—and hopefully read. ^^

A.N. 2: I wrote some oneshots in the Fireflies universe that take place before this chapter, if you want to read them in order. Hot and Dirty. But you can skip them and it won't affect your understanding of the story.

Your comments are the ♥best.♥

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“Gunbae!”

I clink my shot glass against a dozen others held out into the center of our group. Soju slops over our hands, spilling down onto the plates and bottles cluttering the table. Glad I’m not the one who’ll have to clean up this mess tomorrow. I toss back the bitter liquor, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The fast-fading pain reminds me how healthy my throat is now. How healthy all of me is.

Taehyun slams his glass on the table and lets out a long belch.

“Aish! You’re so gross.” Soori wrinkles her nose, playfully slapping his shoulder. In response, Taehyun grabs her and starts trying to belch in her ear while she struggles to get away, giggling. Everyone ignores them, chattering and laughing as we walk away in small groups.

We’re all a little drunk and a little giddy. School exams are over and we have a week with no practice as SM gives trainees a chance to visit their families before the grueling summer training. Most of us chose to stay in Seoul, hanging out with friends and letting off steam. Tonight, we’re at a house party on the outskirts of the city. Whose house, I have no idea. Probably another trainee, judging by how many SM people are here. Whoever they are, their parents are wealthy. The house is huge, a maze of rooms with traditional long-beamed wooden ceilings and inlaid furniture. Out back, a garden slopes down through stands of trees to the river. I almost feel like we’re in the country, with nature surrounding us.

I take a sip of beer, looking around the crowded living room.

The furniture has been pushed back to form a makeshift dance floor. A throng of dancers move against each other in the dark room as Lexy’s Grasshopper plays. The song is up-tempo, but I can see some couples already starting to grind on each other. Things will get slow and dirty in there soon.

As I walk by the dancers toward the exit, a girl in a skintight red dress gives me an enticing look. She’s dancing with her slim arms over her head, tangling them in her long, dark hair. Her body moves in a slow undulation, inviting me to come over and touch.

I nod at her, but keep moving toward the exit. Her disappointed eyes follow me, puzzled by my rejection. Sorry. A few months ago, I’d have jumped right in and enjoyed what’s she’s offering, but not now. It’s not that I don’t find her attractive. She’s exactly my style: pretty eyes, nice figure, straight hair. Or what my style used to be, anyway. I’m not sure what it is now. I only know it’s been a very long time since I met anyone I want to have with. No matter how alluring the girl is, my body isn’t interested. It’s like being offered kimchi when you really want cake. It’s fine. You could eat it. But it won’t satisfy your craving.

“Yah! Yunho! Come here!”

As I walk into the next room, Junsu beckons to me. He’s standing with Heechul and Kangin near a billiards table. I can tell from here that Junsu is wasted already. Great. I hope he doesn’t throw up. If he does, it’s Heechul’s problem. He drew the short straw of being designated driver tonight.

“What’s up?”

Junsu is weaving in place, tilting dangerously forward, then catching himself. When I walk up, he clutches at my arm to steady himself.

“Yunhooo! Tell Heechul to let me be in your group. He says I can’t.” He pouts.

Heechul rolls his eyes. He’s exasperated with the tipsy singer. “You’re already in a group.”

“But we !” he whines. “Everybody knows we . I wish they’d put us out of our misery and reassign us already. Then I could be in your group. You guys are the best right now.”

It’s true. We’re at the top of our game. There’s no point having false modesty about it when we’ve worked so hard to get there. We’ve put in hours of extra practice over the past few months to perfect our performance. Once my hormones stabilized, my stamina returned and I was able to keep up during our intense training sessions. Dancing became my refuge again. It’s the one skill I can always rely on. Something I know I’m better at than anyone. It comes easy to me—although I wince when I think those words, reminded of Jae’s lecture. 

Jae.

He’s like my fun-house mirror image. Our strengths and weaknesses are exaggerated opposites, but somehow they work together. We’ve both come so far this past year. His vocal lessons with me made his own voice much stronger and now he’s unquestionably the best singer in our group. One of the best at SM, in fact. He and Junsu were called to Lim’s for a special performance and impressed the hell out of him. That gave Jae the boost of confidence he’s needed. He’s come into his own as a performer, revealing an unexpected shy charisma during performances. I’m proud of him. And while he’s still not the strongest dancer, he’s improved a lot. It’s been a long time since Heechul has sarcastically suggested we call a doctor for Jae’s seizure. 

Jae.

I scan the room to see if he’s here, but then something hits my arm. Hard.

“Ow! What the hell?” It’s Junsu.

“Listen to me! I’m serious, Yunho.”

“I’m listening. What?”

“Let me be in your group.”

Kangin interrupts. “For the last time, no. There’s no room for you.”

“What? Why not?” Junsu is indignant.

“Because we’re the Four Seasons. Four, get it?”

Heechul nods. “All our routines are designed for four singers and dancers. We’d have to rework everything to include you.”

“So?” Junsu’s expression is mulish. He gets like this when he’s drunk: latching onto one idea and worrying at it like a dog with a bone.

“So we’re not fixing something that’s not broken,” says Kangin in annoyance.

“It’s like you don’t want me to join,” Junsu says, suspicious.

“What gave me away?” says Kangin, sarcasm dripping. “You’re right. I don’t. Four Seasons doesn’t need you.”

“Okay, but what if…” Junsu gets a crafty look on his face. “What if you were the Five Seasons?” He grins at us in triumph. Jesus. How drunk is he?

“Are you brain damaged?” Kangin asks in disbelief. He looks done with this conversation. Heechul rests a hand on his arm, calming him, then speaks to Junsu in a soothing tone.

“There are only four seasons, kitten.”

“No!” Junsu is stubborn. “Not true. What about hunting season? Or holiday season? I could be Christmas. Or…or…” His eyes go wide and he snaps his fingers as inspiration strikes. “Nighttime! I’ll be nighttime.”

“Oh my god. I can’t take this much stupid. There’s not enough liquor in the world,” Kangin moans, pinching the bridge of his nose in pain.

“Yah! I can hear you,” says Junsu.

“Stop talking. Please stop talking.”

“Why don’t you grab another drink, hm?” says Heechul to Kangin. “I’ll see if I can’t sober this one up a bit.” His hand comes down firmly on the back of Junsu’s neck.

Kangin nods and exchanges a quick glance with Heechul. I watch closely, trying to catch a moment of secret communication pass between them.

Sometimes, I think I hallucinated what happened in the practice room that day. They act so normal that I think there’s no way they’re more than friends. There’s no way their bland interactions could mask the fervent heat I saw. But every now and then I catch a sidelong look or see a touch that lingers a few seconds too long and I know I didn’t imagine their desire. How do they hide it so well?

Kangin heads off to the kitchen for another drink. I look over at Heechul, who’s force-feeding Junsu some bottled water.

“Have you seen Jae?”

“Not for a while. I’ve had my hands full keeping Christmas here out of trouble.” He gives me a weary look. “I swear to god, Yunho, I’m not doing this anymore.”

I’d feel bad, but we’ve all had to play babysitter before. And I can recall a few nights I had to piggyback Heechul all the way home while he slobbered on my shoulder. I grin as Junsu coughs up water onto Heechul’s designer shirt. Payback time.

“I’m going to look around and see if I can find him.”

“Oh fine. We’ll wait here.” Heechul looks at Junsu’s sputtering cherub face with bitterness. “Right here. All night.”

I laugh at Heechul’s despairing expression as I walk away.

I keep looking for Jae. I feel lightheaded from the alcohol as I wander through one overwarm room after another. The house goes on forever. It’s the time of night when people start pairing off. I pass couples making out in hallways, on stairways, and even in bathrooms. Bedroom doors close, one by one. Still no sign of Jae. I’m starting to get annoyed. Where is he? I refuse to believe that he’s hooking up with someone, that he might be behind one of those bedroom doors. He hasn’t been with anyone since his ulzzang- girlfriend ditched him right after we met. I can’t imagine him starting now. He better not.

I don’t let myself think about why the idea angers me so much.

Finally, I end up back down by the kitchen again. I grab another beer while I’m there, looking around at the trashed house. I’m about to text Jae when I see Kangin talking to a girl over by the dining room window. It’s Jinah. Thank god. I’ll bet she knows where he is.

I go over to ask her and notice that she’s playing with the buttons on the front of Kangin’s shirt. They’re standing very close. If it were anyone else, I’d think nothing of it. A boy, a girl, a little harmless flirting. But as I watch Jinah slide her fingers up to his shoulder, I frown. It seems…wrong. What is he doing? What about Heechul?

I realize then that I know nothing about their relationship. These two guys that I spend hours with every day of my life, who stuck by me through dark times, who I consider two of the best friends I’ve ever had, are strangers in this way. I can’t answer the simplest questions about their relationship. Are they dating? Are they in love? Would Heechul care that Kangin’s letting a girl touch his chest? I don’t know.

Although, I bet I can guess the answer to that last question. I would care.

I turn quickly and leave the dining room before they notice me. I avoid the dance floor—which is as dark and now as I predicted earlier—and slip out a set of sliding glass doors onto the back patio.

The cool night air is a relief after the stuffy house. It makes me feel less dizzy from the alcohol. I take deep breaths to clear my head, enjoying the soft, scented breeze from the forest. I walk down a short flight of wooden stairs to the shadowed lawn. A pebbled path winds toward the back of the lawn and scattered white benches glow in the moonlight. Far off under the trees, fireflies glimmer and fade in the dark.

I put my hands in my pockets and tilt my face up, hoping to see stars. But the yellow glare of Seoul washes out the sky.

“Yunho.”

I turn and see Jae sitting on a bench under a nearby tree. Finally. I join him.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry. I came out for some fresh air, and then it was so nice out here I just stayed.” His voice softens with reverence. “Did you see over there? Fireflies.”

I nod. “Pretty. I can’t remember the last time I saw any. It’s been years.” I’m not looking at them. My eyes are locked on Jae. He’s leaning back against the wooden bench, one knee drawn up to his chest. I can make out his dreamy expression in the moonlight, his faint smile a soft curve against his l