Chan clapped his hands once, looking way too serious for someone standing in the middle of the living room in sweatpants.

“Alright. No excuses today. We're working out.”

You were already regretting agreeing to this. He pointed at the floor like a strict trainer, stretching his arms over his head.

“Ten minutes. That's it. You survive ten minutes and I’ll stop bothering you for the rest of the week.”

You squinted at him from the couch. “...You said that last time.”

“Yeah, and you lasted three minutes.”

“Because you tried to make me do push-ups, what the hell was that??”

Chan laughed, grabbing a mat and throwing it on the floor. “Come on, shorty. Get up.”

You groaned but stood anyway, walking over slowly like your legs were already tired just thinking about it. Chan crossed his arms, watching you.

“Okay. Squats first.”

You bent your knees once. Paused. Looked at him. “...Carry me.”

Chan blinked. “No.”

You held your arms out. “Carry me.”

“We're exercising, not playing—”

You stepped closer and grabbed his arm, already half hanging on him. “Piggyback.”

Chan let out a loud laugh, trying to push you off but not actually using any strength. “Are you serious? We just started, what the fuck—”

You jumped anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before he could stop you. He staggered half a step, then caught you automatically, hands grabbing your legs out of reflex.

“Yah! — I swear to God, you do this every time.”

You rested your chin on his shoulder like you had no shame at all. “I'm tired.”

“You didn't do anything.”

“I'm emotionally tired.”

Chan started laughing so hard he had to hold onto the wall for a second. “You're impossible. Actually impossible.”

He adjusted his grip on your legs anyway, making sure you wouldn’t slip, then walked a few steps across the room with you on his back.

“This is not a workout.”

“It is for you.”

“Oh my—” He shook his head, still laughing, then bounced you slightly just to mess with you. “If I drop you, don't cry.”

“You won't.”

“You're very confident for someone who can't even do one squat.”

He walked back toward the couch, still carrying you like you weighed nothing, and finally stopped, sighing like he lost the fight again.

“Fine. Workout canceled.”

You smiled against his shoulder. He snorted.

“I swear I only date you because you're small enough to carry.” He shifted you higher on his back again before muttering, “...And because you keep asking for piggyback rides like a damn kid.”