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

Chapter 75: A Storm and a Hurricane

(author's note: a small edit and a few lines added, for better flow and formatting. Even though formatting is the least of our concerns this chapter ;))

JL didn't mean to end up outside Steven's room.

Or maybe, he did.

He told himself it was coincidence. That his feet had wandered here on their own -- restless, twitching with energy that wouldn't burn off. But the truth pulsed hot beneath his skin.

He was avoiding everything but this.

The crew had packed up for the evening, voices dissolving into twilight. Woongki had rallied the group for a dessert run in town, loud and cheerful as always. Steven hadn't gone. He'd just looked at JL once -- steady, unreadable -- and walked upstairs.

JL hadn't followed.

Not then.

Now, the corridor felt too long. The villa too quiet. The silence echoed with too much: Han's kiss. His own betrayal. The way Steven hadn't asked. The way he knew.

JL stopped outside the door and clenched his fists.

This was stupid. Weak. Selfish. He should leave.

He turned.

The door opened.

Steven stood there -- shirtless, damp hair curling from the heat of the shower, sweatpants slung dangerously low. Warm amber light spilled around him like a border.

His eyes met JL's like he'd been waiting.

Like he knew.

JL froze.

He meant to speak. To apologize, maybe. To leave.

But all he managed was: "Hi."

Steven didn't answer.

He stepped aside.

Not an invitation.

A challenge.

JL hesitated. Just a second.

Then he crossed the threshold.

The door clicked shut behind him like a sentence being sealed.

The room smelled like eucalyptus and heat. JL turned slowly. His chest felt tight.

Steven stood still, silent, watching him.

Not softly.

Not kindly.

But with a weight JL hadn't felt before -- like Steven was holding back something enormous. Something not safe. Not soft.

Something JL had earned.

Then, without warning, it hit him.

The memory.

Steven's mouth brushing his ear on set, voice low and sinful:

"Sounds vanilla as hell."
A pause, a smirk.
"I fucking hate vanilla."

JL's knees had nearly buckled. His body had betrayed him -- lit up with heat, need, confusion.

Now, in this room, under this light, that same voice was waiting.

JL swallowed hard.

He couldn't blame lust for this.

Couldn't even blame Han.

This wasn't desire anymore.

It was reckoning.