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

Chapter 56: The Ride to Busan

Steven took it with a grunt of thanks, drank too much in one go.

"You okay?"

Steven didn't answer for a second. Then: "I'm great. Just deciding whether to file a lawsuit or start journaling."

Kyungho gave him a flat look. "You're going to combust."

"I'm already on fire," Steven muttered.

He looked up again.

Han had passed JL a folder now. JL wasn't reading it. Just holding it in both hands like it was heavy in a way that had nothing to do with paper.

Steven leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes.

He didn't want to be the guy who needed to be chosen. He wanted to be the guy who got chosen because he didn't need it. Who loved openly, without bargaining. Without waiting to be loved back in increments. But right now? Watching JL sit next to the boy who'd once looked at him like gold and then walked away from it?

Steven wanted to punch something. Or write a sonnet. He wasn't sure which.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his earbuds. Untangled them slowly. Deliberately.

He tapped JL's shoulder once they stopped for gas. JL turned, startled.

"Want to listen?" Steven said, already offering one earbud.

JL hesitated.

Then took it.

The song started. Something soft. Something they'd shared on a rooftop once.

And Steven watched Han from the corner of his eye.

Watched the way his jaw clenched.

And thought, You had this first. But I'm here now. And I'm not letting go without a fight.

* * *

The bus hissed to a halt at a roadside rest stop, its brakes exhaling like a weary traveler. Fluorescent lights bathed the convenience store in a sterile glow, casting long shadows on the asphalt. Inside, the air was thick with the mingling scents of instant noodles, overripe bananas, and the faint tang of cleaning supplies.

Steven stepped off the bus, his muscles taut with unspent energy. He needed a moment away from the confined space, away from the proximity of Han and JL. The convenience store offered a temporary refuge, a place to collect his thoughts and steady his racing heart.

As he navigated the narrow aisles, his eyes landed on Han, who stood by the refrigerated drinks, examining the labels with meticulous care. The sight ignited a spark of irritation in Steven's chest.

"You're really going all in on this redemption arc, huh?" Steven's voice was low, edged with sarcasm.

Han turned, his expression unreadable. "Excuse me?"

"The seat switch. The strategy talk. The spreadsheet. You think you can plan your way back into his life."

Han's gaze didn't waver. "I know what I lost."

Steven's jaw tightened. "You don't get to decide that."

Han nodded once. "I can't take back what I did. But I can give him a reason to choose me again. If he'll let me."

"You're not the only one who loves him."

Han's voice lowered, calm but cutting. "Then you'd better keep loving him loud enough to matter."

He turned, walking away with the poise of someone who believed in his own redemption.

Steven watched him go, then muttered under his breath, "Wonder how hard it is to hide a body under the bus."

* * *

JL's Private Journal Entry

Written at 9:27 p.m., Busan hotel room. Light off. Screen dimmed. Steven next door. Han across the hall. My heart? Still stupid, still beating.

Today, I sat on a bus with one boy beside me and another boy across from me and the entire weight of those two positions felt like... who am I kidding, I'm not posh enough for fancy metaphors.

Steven shared his music. Not in a flashy way. No guitar-solo soundtrack, no orchestral crescendo to mark the moment. Just one earbud. One song. One hand, half-touching mine, an unfinished sentence.

I didn't look at him when he passed it to me. I just... took it. And maybe that was cowardice. Or maybe it was muscle memory by now -- taking what he gives because he always gives. And then feeling like I haven't earned it.

Because I didn't flinch when Han took the seat beside me earlier. I didn't say no. I didn't say anything.

And that silence, apparently, says a lot.

Han sits beside you like it's a war declaration. Steven sits beside you like it's a seat belt. I don't know which I need more -- to be protected or to burn.

Steven's hand is warm when it brushes mine, but not in a way that scorches. It's the kind of warmth you lean into, the kind you can build a life around. But Han... Han is made of ice and fire, in a way that defies thermodynamics. He bruises you with the heat of the things he doesn't say.

And yet, my heart does this thing -- it flips. One for the better choice, the safer one. But also for the possibility of being wanted by someone who was never supposed to want anyone.

That's the worst part. Being wanted by Han feels like being chosen by lightning. It shouldn't happen. But when it does, you convince yourself that standing in the storm was your idea all along.

Steven asked for nothing today. Not even eye contact.

Han asked for everything without opening his mouth.

I don't know how to be the kind of person who deserves either of them.

I don't know how to run without leaving someone behind.

I don't know why I keep craving pain when kindness is sitting quietly beside me with an earbud and a song.

But I do know this:

When Steven looked out the window, I wanted to kiss his cheek.

When Han looked at me across the aisle, I wanted to stop breathing just long enough to feel the silence crack.

Which means I'm a disaster.

Which means the days coming are going to hurt. No matter who runs fastest.

-- JL