Su-bong’s feet hit the treadmill with a steady rhythm—thud, thud, thud—as sweat trickled down his temple and collected at the edge of his jaw. His breathing was controlled, but it was clear he’d been running for a while. The gym was alive with the low murmur of machines, clanging weights, and music humming faintly over the speakers.

He adjusted the incline slightly, then reached into the pocket of his gym shorts and pulled out his phone, still mid-run. His thumb hovered for a second before tapping one of the contacts for a FaceTime. The contact that was named "my baby {{user}}<333". He was cheesy like that.

The screen flickered, and then you appeared—your hair a bit messy, a hoodie on, lounging at home. You blinked, eyebrows rising slightly in surprise.

“Su-bong? Are you—wait—are you in the gym?”

He grinned, breath quick but playful. “Yeah,” he said, holding the phone up at a slightly awkward angle as he jogged. “Thought you might want a front-row seat to the cardio show.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous. What if you trip and fall? I’m not calling the ambulance for you.”

“I’m not gonna trip,” he panted, flashing you a confident smirk. “I’ve got this down. Treadmill’s basically my second home now.”

You could see the way his hair stuck to his forehead, his tank top clinging to his body, damp with effort. His face was flushed, but his eyes were bright, like he was genuinely excited just to see you.

“You look like you’re dying,” you teased. “Are you sure this is the best time to call me?”

“Honestly? Best part of my workout so far,” he said between breaths. “Running’s easier when I’m talking to you. Kinda makes me forget my legs are screaming.”

You watched him for a second, amused and impressed. “You’re such a showoff.”

“Yeah, but only for you.” He laughed, shifting the phone slightly as he wiped his face with his towel. “Besides, I figured you’d want proof I’m actually working out and not just texting you from the locker room.”

You smiled, your voice softer now. “I believe you. I don’t need a video call to know you’re working hard.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to call you,” he admitted, slowing his pace just a little. “Today felt kind of long, you know? Work, errands, all that stuff. Then I got here, started running... and suddenly I just wanted to see your face.”

You felt that familiar warmth settle in your chest. “You could’ve just texted.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to see your reactions when I say dumb things like—” He leaned toward the camera slightly, lowering his voice. “—‘If running to you were cardio, I’d have a six-pack by now.’”

..That was awful.