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

Chapter 12: Training, Torsos, and Twitter

At exactly 6:00 a.m., the peace of the mountain retreat was shattered by the violent clanging of two metal pot lids.

"RISE AND SHINE, MAGGOTS!"

Coach Yang stomped down the hallway in his jogging shoes, face glowing with morning vengeance, as he whacked the lids together like a one-man marching band.

"Wha -- what is that -- ?" JL shot up in bed, hair a puffball.

"Am I dead?" Woongki asked from the mattress beside Han's bed, voice muffled by his blanket. "I feel like I'm dead."

"I think we're being exorcised," Jeongwoo groaned from down the hall.

Kyungho groaned from the floor and dragged a pillow over his head. "My spine officially hates me."

In Room 3, Chih En blinked up at the ceiling in betrayal. "I can still taste the soju."

Shuaibo fell off his bunk with a thud and groaned. "I will never drink again. Probably."

Steven opened the door of Room 5 without a word, fully dressed and towel around his neck. "If you're not on the field in ten minutes, Coach says we're running up the east trail shirtless. And you don't get breakfast after."

Silence.

Then everyone scrambled.

***

The morning air was thick with humidity, already pressing down on their lungs as they stumbled out to the training field.

Most of them looked like extras from a zombie movie. Except Steven. Steven looked like a pre-workout commercial. His physique was flawless.

"Morning, princesses," Coach called. "Today's agenda: run, sweat, maybe puke. Then a friendly competition to see which of you has muscles and which of you have excuses."

Woongki lay dramatically in the grass. "Bury me here."

JL rubbed his eyes. "Wait, did he say competition?"

"Yes," Juwon muttered, holding his head. "Yes, he did."

Round 1: Push-Ups

"Down, up, down, up!" Sweat dripped onto the grass. Grunts and gasps filled the air. Steven led the count at first, arms flexing in perfect rhythm, biceps rippling under the weight of his own strength.

"Damn," Juwon muttered, watching. "It's like his biceps have abs."

Kyungho kept pace easily, shoulders wide, his body a geometric study in power and grace. Every rep looked like a photoshoot. His back alone could star in a fitness ad.

Woongki, attempting to keep up beside him, wheezed. "Why are you built like a marble statue? Unfair!"

"Focus on your own form," Kyungho grunted.

"Can't. Distracted by your -- " Woongki gestured vaguely at Kyungho's torso -- "everything."

Jeongwoo's push-ups started slow, but the moment his hair flopped into his eyes and he began the rhythm, something clicked. Rugged. Glistening. Determined. He was the only one who had completed army training, and he was in familiar territory. 

Someone, somewhere, a dedicated fanbase maybe, would pay a ludicrous sum to see him like this.

Chih En, usually so still, matched the pace with quiet precision. His shirt clung to him. There were fansites out there that would have murdered for a photo of him at that moment.