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

Chapter 54: Every One Except Yours

The day was almost ending. The locker room always had a particular kind of silence after training -- humid, sharp with the sting of muscle rub, the wet slap of towels, the soft creak of old benches. It smelled like eucalyptus and iron, and ambition left hanging in the air. Most of the team had filtered out by now. Showers had been taken. Bottles refilled. Laughter drifted off down the hallway in pieces, swallowed by distance and the clatter of cleats.

Only two boys remained.

Kyungho stood near the far wall, shirt half on, toweling off his hair in practiced, efficient swipes. His shoulders gleamed faintly with sweat that hadn't quite dried, his entire frame broad, solid, dependable in that way people always assumed didn't hurt.

Woongki lingered at his locker, pretending to search for something. A sock. A charger. A towel that had never existed. Anything to justify not leaving yet.

The silence between them had weight. Not the comfortable kind. The kind with history.

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" Kyungho asked, not turning around.

Woongki froze. Then pulled on his most theatrical voice. "What do you mean? My stunning fashion sense? My amazing track commentary? My tragic and eternal youth?"

"You know what I mean."

Kyungho didn't raise his voice. He never did. But it had a center. A spine. Something that cut even when it was quiet.

"You joke about everyone's love life like it's a game," he said. "Han and Steven. JL. Shuaibo and Chih En. You throw confetti like you're some queer cupid. But the one story you never talk about -- the only one you never touch -- is the one that's standing right in front of you."

The air dropped. Even the pipes seemed to hush.

Woongki slowly lowered the hoodie in his hands, not facing him.

"Kyungho --" he started, but his voice gave out halfway.

Kyungho stepped closer. Not all the way. Just enough for the distance to shrink.

"Why do you root for every love except the one that's yours?" he asked. 

Not angry. Just... tired. Tired in a way that made Woongki's ribs feel too tight.

"Because it's not real," Woongki said softly, still facing the row of lockers. His voice cracked just a little. "It's never been real."

"I almost kissed you that night on the stairwell," Kyungho said, each word careful and deliberate, like he was holding it out in his palm. "Don't tell me that wasn't real."

That cracked something.

Woongki turned then -- too fast, like his body moved before his mouth could stop it.

"That was years ago," he snapped. "Before you shut me out. Before the school nearly suspended us for 'disruptive conduct' and 'setting a poor example.' You think I don't remember?"

"I do remember," Kyungho said. "That's why I stopped talking to you. That's why I backed off. I thought it was what you needed."

"You left me," Woongki said, voice breaking. "And I had to pretend it didn't matter."

Kyungho stared at him. His hands clenched at his sides. He stepped forward now, fully this time.

"I was seventeen, Woongki. I didn't know how to protect you without disappearing."

There it was. The real sentence. The locker room buzzed with the fluorescent hum above them. Neither moved.

Woongki let out a shaky breath. His back hit the cool metal locker behind him. "You're good at disappearing."

Kyungho looked like he wanted to reach for him. Maybe to hold. Maybe to shake. But his hands stayed at his sides.

Then silence again.

And just before Kyungho turned to leave, Woongki said -- so quietly it barely registered: "I would've let you. That night."

Kyungho stopped in the doorway. He didn't turn back. But he stood there, frozen in the doorway like he'd just heard something too important to breathe through.

And Woongki, suddenly shaking, sat down on the bench. Head low. Hands over his face. The only sound in the room was the ventilation fans, whirring.