Chapter Text
Two
Panic floods over everyone as the platform spins to a halt and the lights dim with the announcement of the final number. Lights start flashing, sharpening the lines of the players' features and highlighting the terror in their eyes.
Shifting his weight quickly, Gi-hun scans the positions of his friends around him, cautious about who to grab to ensure every one of them is secure in finding a room. In a blur he sees player 333 grab Jun-hee by the hand and dash off, the rush of their movement kicks Gi-hun into motion as he starts to reach out to grab Jung-bae.
Before he can wrap his fingers around his best friend's arm, however, Jung-bae is pulled out of his reach by Dae-ho. The two have become close, bonding over their shared service in the Marines, so Gi-hun isn't too surprised at the younger man wanting to ensure Jung-baes’ safety. Not that he has much time to process that before he's harshly pulled off the platform a second later.
His hand clasps tightly around the one that's pulling him. Young-il grips his hand tight. The connection is strong and determined as he pulls them towards an open door across the room. Gi-hun focuses his sight on the dark brown locks swaying with the rhythm of their sprint before him.
Suddenly, that sight is blocked by the blur of another player pushing between the two of them and knocking Gi-hun down in the process. He lands with a loud thud and looks up to see the player that pushed him is already moving towards the room Young-il just entered.
Wasting no time, Gi-hun reaches up and grabs the player's forearm and yanks as hard as he can, using all his strength to pull the player down, and himself up off the ground. Sucking in a deep breath, he dashes toward the open door, shoving another incoming player out of the way just in time for him to slide inside the room and slam the door shut.
Gi-hun rests his forehead against the cold door and splays his hands flat against it on either side of his head. His breath comes out in heavy puffs, escaping his lungs with a slight shake to match his shaking hands. Shutting his eyes, Gi-hun focuses on the sound of the voice coming through the speakers, counting down the time till the doors lock and their survival of the game is ensured.
Ten
Inhale.
Nine
Focus on the countdown.
Eight
Drown out the sound of the panic around you.
Seven
Exhale.
Six
Inhale.
Five
Don't think about the players you left for dead.
Four
Stop picturing their faces when you shoved them out of the way.
Three
SNAP!
Gi-hun barely registers the click of the door locking as he spins around to face the source of the sound that shook him to his core. There, in the corner of the room, Young-il is on the floor with a man slumped between his legs. His hair is a mess and his eyes are bloodshot and unfocused. His hands are shaking as they rest beside him, his breath coming out in the same heavy, shaky puffs as the ones escaping Gi-hun.
The motion of Young-il raising an arm to push the dead man off of him snaps Gi-hun into action. Two quick strides and he's towering above Young-il, the unbothered look on his face sends a flash of rage through Gi-hun. In one fluid movement, he reaches down, grabs Young-il by the lapels of his jacket, and hauls him off the floor. With all his might Gi-hun shoves him against the wall.
Gi-hun barely gives Young-il time to register what's happening before he’s yelling at him. His grip tightens as he pulls him towards him and then slams Young-il back again. The height difference between the two, as well as the pull of him closer to Gi-hun forces Young-il into an uncomfortable position. He rests his head against the wall, chin angled upwards as he reaches out two defiant hands to push back at Gi-hun. His defensive shove is wasted when Gi-hun remains solid and still.
“Why did you kill that man?!” Gi-hun scowls at Young-il, clenching his jaw as his eyes flicker down to look at the dead player collapsed on the floor. Staring at the body, the man's neck is clearly broken. He feels another question come to mind. A shiver spreads across his body as he turns his head back to focus on Young-il. His cold, unfazed expression urges Gi-hun to ask his next question. His voice lowers from its initial volume. The anger subsided only slightly, as fear washes over him.
“No… How could you kill another player, like that?”
“I did what I had to do for us to survive. Only two people could be in this room. Do you think they would have let us live if there were three of us in here?”
In-ho stares resolutely at Gi-hun as he responds to him with a stable voice. He knows for a fact they wouldn't have killed him. He would have had to think of an order for the guards fast. The safest option of course would have been to let the guards kill Gi-hun and the other player, and then escort In-ho out in a casket. He could easily have ended things there, concealed himself as dead, and returned to running the games from behind the scenes. But that option meant killing Gi-hun, and the prospect of ending the man's fight so short was something In-ho had no desire to see.
He wants Gi-hun to live. He wants to see how far he would go to end the games. He wants to learn how someone could keep believing in the goodness of humanity when there is so clearly none left. He wants to watch him lose that faith. To see things the same way In-ho does and to finally admit he was wrong.
At Least that's mostly how he feels. There is, unfortunately, a small part of him that has developed a desire to see Gi-hun win. To watch him succeed in ending the games, and to prove there is still some faith left in humanity.
It's this inner turmoil, a clash of ideals, that has In-ho acting so rashly lately. Risking his cover by killing in front of Gi-hun and, admittedly, edging towards a strange closeness with him. Something about their allyship turned into an unfamiliar companionship over a very short amount of time. In-ho has mentally justified it as a manipulation tactic from his side, but that doesn't explain the reciprocation from Gi-hun.
Sensing that budding companionship is at risk the longer In-ho takes to diffuse this situation, he reasons with Gi-hun with a strained voice of desperation.
“Gi-hun, what choice did I have? Even if we pushed him out of the room he would have died anyway.”
Sensing Gi-hun was about to tell him they did not know that for certain, In-ho rushes to dispute that thought, shaking his head as he does.
“There wasn't enough time for him to have found another room. You saw that we were some of the last people to have made it into a room in time.”
Gi-hun hasn’t loosened his grip at all, if anything it seems to have tightened with In-hos’ words.
“Would you have preferred I let you die Gi-hun?”
That catches his attention, In-ho notes as he watches the shift in his hard features, to a look of uncertainty. He opens his mouth slightly, as if to respond to In-ho’s question, but closes it immediately without a word.
“Should I have left? Would you have preferred to live with him rather than with me?”
In-ho flicks his eyes down to the lifeless body in the corner, ignoring the double meaning of that loaded question. He watches as Gi-hun takes a hesitant peek at the man, before looking back at In-ho.
For a few brief seconds, no words are shared between them. Gi-hun is still gripping his jacket tight, his eyebrows are still furrowed as his jaw clenches again. They share each other's breath and In-ho notices the match in the timing of their inhales and exhales. His eyes slide down to look at his lips without him even meaning to, and when he looks back up he sees Gi-hun has done the same thing.
Wondering how much time they have while the guards bring in the caskets and clear the dead players from the room, In-ho feels a strong impulse to see how far he can take this. He unfurls one of his clenched fists and relaxes it gently against the taller man's chest, fingers splaying across his collarbone.
His voice is calm and steady when he continues.
“What would you have done Gi-hun? If you entered the room before me and found another player here already?” In-ho tilts his head slightly, whispering the next words.
“Whose life would you deem more worthy of saving?”
The air turns heavy around them, In-ho could swear it’s physically weighing Gi-hun down. His whole body seems to loosen with a silent sigh. Tight shoulders and clenched fists relax entirely. His head dips, eyes dropping to stare at the floor as he slowly releases In-ho from his tight grip.
Gi-hun raises his left hand to rest against the wall, palm flat, directly next to In-ho. Their chests are inches apart now, moving in a harmonized rhythm. As if the increasing closeness from that shift in position wasn't enough to rattle his brain, Gi-hun begins a slow descent with his other hand along the form of In-ho. Fingers glide over his ribs and waist, and although the layers of his jacket and shirt are between the touch, it still manages to send a shiver spiralling down his spine.
As Gi-hun dips his hand lower, In-ho holds his breath, anticipating the moment Gi-hun will retract it. However, that moment never comes. Instead, the breath he's holding escapes his lips with a tremor as the wondering hand stops its journey at his side. Fingers wrap around In-ho to hold his hip bone with a firm and grounding grip.
Gi-hun is still looking down at the floor. His eyes are squeezed shut and In-ho is starting to wonder if Gi-hun is even aware of what he's doing. Studying the deep furrow of the taller man's brow, In-ho is pulled out of his thoughts by the tightening hand on his hip. His thumb curls into the dip between the jut of his hip bone and his stomach, while his fingers dig into the flesh of his lower back.
The grip makes In-ho entirely too aware of their size difference. Gi-hun appears to be towering over him, consuming half of his body with one hand, with ease. This elicits an unfamiliar feeling of smallness in In-ho.
The physical hold on In-ho has his heart racing harder than ever before, even when his life was at real risk in the games, years ago.
“I don't know…”
In-ho draws his attention back to their conversation, with the whisper of an answer from Gi-hun. He stares at the short, choppy black hair, now slumped even lower than before. In-ho finds himself imagining the longer, fluffy hair Gi-hun had in the previous games. Those long, carefree locks are something he never thought he’d miss. Gi-hun remains still as In-ho tentatively moves his hand from chest to neck. His fingers are delicate as they lightly rest against soft skin. The touch seems to pull Gi-hun out of his thoughts enough to open his eyes and raise his head slightly. Their faces are closer than ever now, and In-ho lets his impulses override the part of his brain telling him to stop things before he gets himself in too deep.
“I couldn't let you die Gi-hun.”
His words come out soft and careful as his thumb traces his throat lightly. In-ho can feel the quickening pulse of Gi-hun under his fingers, as he slides his thumb up to rest at the tip of his chin. In-ho slowly tilts his face up more, Gi-hun completely surrendering to the will of In-ho. Their eyes are now in line as In-ho delivers his final question with an underlying tone of insecurity, he wasn't even aware he was feeling.
“Would you have let me die?”
Gi-hun sucks in a deep breath, the question seemingly breathing new life into him. Or was it the small confession, In-ho wonders? It's a confession for himself too, to be honest. He's planned on keeping Gi-hun alive for the entirety of the games, but this wasn't about keeping him alive for his manipulation. This is about his desire to be with Gi-hun. To be near him at all times. To explore their companionship. To explore the emotions slowly resurfacing within him.
The slide of fingers against his hip pulls In-ho out of his thoughts once again, as Gi-hun subtly slides his thumb underneath his jacket and shirt. His fingers follow and the touch is so soft, yet feels intensely heavy to In-ho. He stares at the face before him. Gi-hun looks distracted, as if in deep thought. He finds himself wondering yet again if Gi-hun is even aware of the contact he is making. If he is even aware of the way his touch feels like fire to In-ho. Burning him with an unwelcome desire for more. More time alone and undisturbed. More silence with nothing but the sound of their echoing breaths breaking it. More skin against skin -
Before In-ho can give in to that dangerous thought, he watches as Gi-hun tenses up. His muscles go rigid, yet he remains unmoving. He appears to scowl but with a degree of something else mixed in. An underlying emotion In-ho thinks Gi-hun may be trying to cover up.
The calm air between them ends in a heartbeat as Gi-hun tightens his grip around his hip with a menacing force. His thumb digs in bruisingly deep, and fingernails bite at flesh. In-ho looks down for a brief moment at the sudden attack, then back up with an inhaled hiss. Gi-hun is looking at his lips. His expression has turned dark, and all aspects of their soft uncertainty are completely gone and replaced with a commanding glare. His fingernails dig in deeper and deeper, and In-ho is sure they're breaking skin. His voice is a low, deep rumble, that demands full attention. The ferocity in his voice sends a shiver down his spine and he finds himself hoping this isn't the last time he hears it from Gi-hun.
“We are not here to kill other players.”
In-ho barely manages to stifle a moan when Gi-hun pulls his fingers roughly along his hip as he steps away from him and heads towards the door. He can feel the cool of exposed flesh, and droplets of blood forming where Gi-hun scratched him. Unable to move, he simply remains staring forward, frozen in place as Gi-hun opens the now unlocked door of their room.
He flicks his eyes over to Gi-hun who has now stopped mid-walk in the doorway. He turns his head ever so slightly towards In-ho, his eyes focused elsewhere as he whispers a soft thank you before exiting the room.
The room feels as if it's dropped several degrees in temperature. The air feels sharp to breathe in as if it is cutting away at his throat with every inhale. In-ho feels a wave of regret as his thoughts catch up to everything that just happened. Instantly regretting allowing himself to lose control as much as he did. Getting close to Gi-hun to manipulate him is one thing, but allowing himself to get lost in a moment like that. To entertain thoughts that go against his Front-man agenda... He slams his fist against the wall behind him in a rush of anger. The stinging burst of pain instantly helps to ground him.
After a few calming breaths, In-ho finally wills himself to move. He turns towards the open door, hearing the sound of the surviving players talking amongst themselves. His face remains straight ahead but his eyes flick up to briefly look at the camera in the corner of the room. Refusing to acknowledge the warmth to his cheeks and ears, he makes a swift exit from the room and heads towards the other players.