Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 1: The New Transferee

Korea National Sports University was where athletes were forged, not found. You didn't get in unless you had trophies, a glowing school recommendation, or incredible sprint times. Park Han had all three. When he stepped on the track, everyone knew this was the Korean National Ace for Track and Field. No questions.

He was handsome, tall and toned, and to the chagrin of many a fangirl, romantic relationships were the last thing on his mind. Park Han was focused on winning.

So when the coach said they were getting an international transfer, Han barely lifted his head. Transfers happened. They came, they cracked under pressure, and eventually they left. Their faces were a blur to him.

But this year some foreign kid was joining the team. Filipino, they whispered. Transfer student. Big smile. Loose stance from the few sports photos uploaded to his university profile, and what seemed like a grueling training regimen back home. Looked more like someone from a reality show than a national athlete.

Han didn't think much of it, until he heard the commotion. It came from outside the gym, the high-pitched screams and giggles, followed by camera clicks and excited chatter. Someone outside was getting swarmed.

The team turned to the window just in time to see a boy step out of a black van, holding a duffel bag and smiling uncertainly. He was taller than expected, with a sharp, elfin jaw. Wide dark brown eyes that took up his slender face. His healthy skin and cheeks were flushed under the campus sun, startled as he was by the reception. Dark chestnut hair framed his face in an overgrown wolf cut, and he wore a gray track suit that hinted at his lean, powerful frame. His country flag was a discreet emblem on the chest.

He bowed twice, to the coach and to the crowd. He smiled shyly at a group of students nearest him, which set off a chorus of giggles and a new round of tittering.

"Is that him?" one of the juniors muttered. "The Filo transfer?"

"He looks like an idol," someone else whispered.

"Can the handsome guys leave sports alone, for the love of almighty. This is why I never get any dates."

JL kept his head low, bowing deeply again to Coach Yang. "I'm Jay Lawrence Gaspar," he said in halting but clear Korean. "You can call me JL. It's an honor to be here. Please take care of me." His voice was gentle, and there was no hint of arrogance in it. Coach Yang nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. The older athletes greeted him, then offered handshakes.

JL thanked the assistant manager for his water bottle, and even helped carry hurdles to the side during warmups. His smile was sincere, his attention genuine. This was met with approval by some, but not all.

"What do we need another pretty face around here for? As if Kyungho and Steven weren't already making life hard for the rest of us," one guy joked.

"Watch Coach throw him in a time trial. He'll fold," someone said dismissively.

Park Han said nothing. He simply watched.

They lined up for 200m trials just before sunset. Having flown to Korea a few days before, JL assured them he was fine to run as soon as he arrived at KNSU. The field had gone quiet. Word had spread. Even a few girls from volleyball and badminton had snuck out to watch.

Jeongwoo and Chih En sat in the stands, calmly observing. Kyungho and Steven stood off to the side, arms folded, unreadable. Shuaibo and Woongki chattered a mile a minute behind their hands in a half-hearted attempt to not blatantly gossip, but Kyungho, who could hear every word, shushed them.

JL's hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his shoes. He'd taken off his track suit.  He took slow, steady breaths, crouched low at the starting line, and kept his eyes on the track.

"All right, new guy," one senior said. "Show us what you got."

JL nodded, once.

The timid boy vanished. One second, he was the unassuming, polite young man. The next, he was sharp-eyed, lethal, and predatory. There was a perceptible shift in his whole aura. It was unnerving to see the change as his muscles tensed, like a coiled spring. He'd spotted the kill and had already decided how it would end. Murmurs rose among the watchers.

The gun fired.

JL surged forward with a power that was simply shocking. He hugged the curve instinctively. His shoulders stayed low, his stride wide, his speed ruthless. If he made even a slight miscalculation, he would careen off the track and break something, he was going so fast.

But he wasn't worried about miscalculations. His lips parted in the barest smile halfway through the race -- just a flicker -- but it was enough to make the crowd near the bleachers gasp.

He didn't just win. He obliterated the times. He took corners with inhuman sharpness. His legs pumped like pistons. When he crossed the finish line, he stood up, and tugged off his sweat-drenched tee with one hand. 

The bleachers erupted.

Even Park Han blinked. Han, Korea's golden boy, the top of the national sprint team, scholarship recipient, first name on every list,  actually looked surprised.

Coach Yang glanced at the uproar in the stands, then at the timer, then at JL, who was now back to regular mode, smiling sheepishly by the finish line.

"...Double check that time," Coach Yang said to the assistant.

JL had his hands on his knees. Now he straightened up, slightly flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah... did I tank?" he asked, regretfully.

The assistant held up his clipboard. "He beat the record." 

The word spread like wildfire.