Chapter Text
Everything's over. Hwang In-ho can see Gi-hun's world crumbling as his friend falls to the ground, lifeless. There's no coming back from this, he knows. For one insane moment he considered the entertainment value of letting Gi-hun continue. Considered being his brother in arms, but Gi-hun can't be anything other than a victim, a horse to bet on, naive, trusting and loyal. And Young-il?
Well.
Young-il didn't exist.
"Clean him up and deliver him to me when you're finished," he delegates. His guards immediately begin moving and In-ho hangs back and watches as Gi-hun resists, tears staining his weathered face. It's...satisfying.
"You're a coward!" Gi-hun screams as In-ho turns. There's much to do to get the games back on track, but he can't help but pause at the words. Even now, Gi-hun fights. He can't help the intrigue he feels at every decision Gi-hun makes, but he can't allow it to distract him at such a pivotal moment. So, he walks away as Gi-hun continues to call after him.
In-ho leans close to a square mask and firmly says, "No harm is to come to him." He doesn't have to tell the guard what will happen if something happens to 456. He knows his guards, knows that they'll follow orders to the letter.
For now, he has a rebellion to quash.
In-ho is a patient man. He trusts that his guards will deliver Gi-hun to him in pristine condition. He tries to imagine it, when the initial shock of grief passes, there will be nothing left but anger for a while. He wonders if he can break him. There's a part of him curious if he'll see that same distraught look that Gi-hun wore when Young-Il voted to stay, but there's another part that wants him to keep resisting, keep fighting even when there's no hope left.
So, he waits.
When they finally deliver Gi-hun, it's hard to maintain composure. There's still fire in Gi-hun's brown eyes, defiant and fierce. In-ho takes his time looking him over, his gaze lingering on the bruise darkening the high point of Gi-hun’s cheek. A thrum of irritation rises in his chest.
"Was this here before you escorted him to the showers?" In-ho asks, tipping Gi-hun's face to the side. But Gi-hun jerks his head back at the touch.
"Don't," Gi-hun mutters low and deep, his voice raw. He's stunning like this.
"N-no, sir. There was resistance," the guard stammers.
Of course there was. Gi-hun wouldn't go without a fight. "Resistance?" In-ho presses.
"He fell while struggling," the other guard says quickly.
In-ho turns back to Gi-hun. "Is that true, 456?"
The silence stretches between them, thick with tension. Finally, Gi-hun relents. "They didn't touch me."
"Good," In-ho says, his attention back on the guards. "Leave us."
They exit in an orderly fashion and soon it's just the two of them in his living area. Gi-hun is on his knees before him. "Why am I here?"
"If I undo your restraints, will you cause a fuss?" In-ho asks, ignoring his question.
"Maybe," Gi-hun says, the anger in his eyes not dying.
In-ho smiles behind his mask and he lifts his arm and Gi-hun flinches. It only amuses In-ho more that Gi-hun thinks he'd hit him after making such a fuss over the new bruise on his face. Instead, he lifts a remote to turn the television on the back wall on. Playing on screen are the remainder of the contestants. The guards are there, and the Os are pointing and accusing player 388 and 120. Though there's no audio, it's clear. "Are these the players who joined your little rebellion?" he asks casually. He knows, of course, but he lets the game play out a little longer.
"I wouldn't tell you," Gi-hun growls.
In-ho hums in response and pauses the feed. "I have video footage of player 120 shooting out cameras before the feed dies. In the interest of keeping things fair, they broke the rules of the games. All that's left is to eliminate them."
"Don't," Gi-hun says sharply his whole body jerking in protest.
In-ho holds his breath and wonders if he'll say it, if he's the type. He isn't aware of just how badly he wants to hear the word fall from Gi-hun's mouth until they're forming right in front of him.
"Please," barely a whisper. Gi-hun’s eyes are downcast, filled with that same broken despair In-ho had seen before—a look that says he knows he's lost, that he’s been outplayed yet again. It’s just as sweet as the first time.
"I can't bend the rules just for you, can I?"
"Then why am I still alive?" Gi-hun asks, not falling for it.
In-ho doesn't have a good answer for, not one that isn't a lie. "To witness the consequences of being a hero."
Gi-hun's glare burns into him, and In-ho feels a prickle of excitement under his skin. Gi-hun feels his emotions so strongly, just like—no, that's a dangerous path to tread. "I won't eliminate them from the games in exchange for your cooperation, Seong Gi-hun."
"Oh..." Gi-hun breathes, like he has finally pieced In-ho's intentions together. It was strange how much Gi-hun perceived behind the Frontman that he couldn't in Young-il.
"Fine," Gi-hun says, his jaw tense. "You have it."
"Good." In-ho pats Gi-hun's cheek before leaning down to undo his restraints.
"I have your word?" Gi-hun asks, his voice edged with doubt. "Their lives for my cooperation?"
"I'm a man of my word, if nothing else," In-ho assures him.
Gi-hun’s shoulders relax slightly, though his jaw remains tight.
"How kind of you," Gi-hun grits out.
In-ho just smiles.
In-ho walks away from the screen, leaving it running as testament that he hasn't ordered the execution of Gi-hun's co-conspirators. He leads Gi-hun to a small table dressed in a luxurious black tablecloth waiting for them, topped with an elaborate meal for two. In-ho doesn't miss the way Gi-hun’s eyes widen at the spread.
"Sit," In-ho instructs, and once Gi-hun in his seat, In-ho sits across from him.
Gi-hun is still, his eyes on In-ho's mask. "I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten properly in days."
"Whose fault is that? I recall you letting people starve in the last games just to create chaos," Gi-hun snaps.
"You promised your cooperation. Eat," he commands as he tucks into his own meal.
Gi-hun's fists are clenched on the table, but he eventually gives in. He takes the utensils and starts picking at the food. He knows why Gihun is hesitating. It's the same steak he was served the final night of his own games. It takes time, but Gihun eats. The slow grind of his jaw and the way his throat moves as he swallows stirs a strange warmth inside In-ho. He imagines how that throat might feel under his hand.
Gi-hun drops his utensils with a clatter once he's finished. "Why am I here?"
"You're too disruptive to keep in the games," he says, before taking another bite.
"You could just kill me," Gi-hun snorts.
"What fun would that be?"
"Right, you're all about fun."
In-ho stands and he can see Gi-hun's body go rigid. "Stand up."
Gi-hun hesitates, but he eventually gives in and stands. His hands are clenched at his sides.
"Take your shirt off."
Silence stretches between them. Gi-hun’s expression twists into disgust, but he obeys, stripping off the shirt and tossing it over the back of the chair. "You're sick," he mutters.
Let him think what he will. In-ho's gaze is clinical as he studies Gi-hun's torso. The scar on his abdomen from three years prior is clean—a testament to the surgeon he hired to patch him up. His attention shifts to the freshly cleaned wound on his arm. "Just a graze," he muses.
"I could have told you that."
"Pants too," In-ho says. He's just being cautious.
"No."
"Are you going against your word?" In-ho asks. He was clear about what the consequences were, he's surprised Gi-hun would risk his friend's lives.
"No." Gi-hun's voice is firm. "You asked for my cooperation, not my consent. They aren’t the same thing."
In-ho is intrigued by the fierce determination in Gi-hun’s voice. It's the same defiance that had captivated him since their call at the airport.
"They aren’t?" In-ho tilts his head, his eyes taking in Gi-hun's form, his chest, the slight pudge of his stomach, the way his pants hang off his hips.
"If you really think they are, then you're sicker than I thought," Gi-hun says.
In-ho chuckles. He hadn’t intended it that way; his concern was purely for Gi-hun's physical well-being. But if Gi-hun wanted to believe he was a monster, In-ho would let him. "Fair enough. I'll show you to your room. It's being recorded so I wouldn't do anything stupid if I were you. Besides, you should get your rest. I have a lot of work to do to prepare for the next game thanks to you."
"The next game..." Gi-hun whispers in defeat.
In-ho moves behind Gi-hun, his hand on the small of his back, guiding him through the room and towards the hallway where the VIP rooms are. A temporary solution.
"Did you think we'd halt everything just for you?" he muses before he opens a door and urges Gi-hun inside.
"Rest well, Seong Gi-hun."
It's been an hour and In-ho's eyes are fixed on his monitor as he sips at a glass of scotch. His eyes keep straying toward one particular feed. The VIP room that he's stored his prisoner.
Gi-hun sits on the bed, he's hunched over with his hands clenched in the lavish black silk sheets. In-ho has caught the moment that he breaks, and Gi-hun cries. He cries for the loss of his friends, for Jung-bae, maybe even Young-il? But most of all, he's sure that he weeps for his failure and his guilt. It's raw and unfiltered.
In-ho knows he shouldn’t linger since there are countless tasks waiting for his attention. Yet he watches, unmoving, until a crackle from his radio drags him back to duty. It will be a long night of clean up, but he'll keep his word. 388 and 120 will be allowed to compete in the next game unharmed.
"You want me," Gi-hun says in the morning. His eyes are weathered from crying long into the night, but In-ho still finds him beautiful. There's a strength there that In-ho can't help but admire.
"You assume a lot, 456," In-ho replies, keeping his voice even and measured.
"You want my consent," Gi-hun presses. "What do I get in return?"
He steps closer, close enough that In-ho can smell the faint traces of the soap used to bathe him the night before. In-ho wonders, briefly, what Gi-hun washes with back at his tacky little motel.
"Are you negotiating?"
"I want two things."
In-ho raises an eyebrow, surprised by his boldness but not by the prospect of demands. Of course, the safety of his friends would be on the list, but what else? He has an inkling, but he's going to make Gi-hun say it.
"Surely you're not going to ask me to stop the games," In-ho smirks to himself, curious about what Gi-hun thinks he can leverage for his body. He can't deny he's intrigued at the offer.
"Take Jun-hee out of the games."
"Who?" In-ho feigns ignorance.
"Player 222. She's pregnant and shouldn't be here in the first place." Gi-hun's voice is firm, unwavering.
"And deny her a chance at the prize money for her baby?" In-ho challenges, amused.
"I have more than enough to help her myself."
In-ho pauses, weighing the request. "Fine. That's one thing. What's the second?"
Gi-hun's gaze doesn't falter. "Take off the mask."
"Excuse me?"
"If I'm going to give you my body, I want to know who I'm fucking. So, choose. Me or the mask."
"You aren't going to like what you see," he warns. His thumb instinctively brushes over Gi-hun's bottom lip and he’s pleased that Gi-hun lets him.
"When has this ever been about my comfort? About what I want?"
"I did warn you," In-ho says. He's told himself that it doesn't matter to him whether Gi-hun knows the truth. The mask was for the other man's comfort, not his. But as he slides his hood back and unclasps the mask, his heart pounds.
Gi-hun's gaze is unwavering as the mask is cast aside. Horror dawns over Gi-hun's face slowly. His eyes widen and he takes a half step back, "Y-young-il," he breathes.
"Young-il doesn't exist," In-ho says coldly.
What happens next catches him off guard. Gi-hun's hand lands on his shoulder, gripping tightly before his forehead falls on In-ho's shoulder. He exhales shakily, and for a fleeting moment, In-ho wonders if luck is still on his side. That is until Gi-hun speaks.
"I think I'd rather you just killed me..."
In-ho reaches up and threads his fingers through Gi-hun's hair. "No," he tells him, his grip tightening. "No, Gi-hun." He pulls his head up so he can look him in the eye.
"And for—"
In-ho cuts him off the only way he knows how, with a kiss. It's soft, but not without intent. He pulls Gi-hun closer by the back of his neck and when he gasps, In-ho takes advantage and deepens the kiss. He tastes of toothpaste, and he smells of the same generic soap they provide the guards with. He can feel Gi-hun's reluctance. It takes him a few minutes for him to relax into it, but when he finally gives in it's sweeter than anything In-ho has ever tasted.
"You killed Jung-bae. You let me grieve you," Gi-hun accuses between kisses and it shouldn't turn In-ho on, but it does. "I hate you."
In-ho just smiles as he pulls Gi-hun back in and lets their kiss linger before he finally breaks away. "I don't think that you do," he says. He doesn't know that Gi-hun is capable of true hatred, not when he already believes in In-ho's humanity. When he believes in something In-ho traded away years ago.
"I don't even know what to call you," Gi-hun says before his fingers slide up into his hair and he kisses him again. This time he's more assertive, he takes what he wants, he licks at In-ho's mouth, nips at his lips and In-ho thinks he can feel his anger. It's addictive.
"In-ho," he says when Gi-hun finally lets him breathe.
"Hwang...In-ho. Jun-ho's brother. This just keeps getting worse," Gi-hun sighs.
"Yes." He shouldn't be surprised that Jun-ho would find the only living link back to him.
Gi-hun leans his forehead against In-ho's and he can't help but reach up and caress his cheek, careful of the bruise he now sports. His fingers slide up the nape of his neck and then back into his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It has the desired effect as Gi-hun lets out a little sigh as he relaxes into the touch. "In-ho," Gi-hun murmurs almost sweetly.
"Say it again."
"In-ho," Gi-hun says as In-ho moves back in. The kiss is softer this time, gentler. It doesn't stay that way, however. Before long, Gi-hun is shoving at his shoulders, guiding him backwards in search of something. "Bed," he mumbles against In-ho's mouth as he keeps pressing.
He laughs at the urgency, but he takes Gi-hun's arm and leads him to In-ho's sleeping quarters. He's careful not to aggravate the other man's wound from the shoot out. Gi-hun’s heroics excite him, and he wants to experience that determination here. He wants to shove Gi-hun into his mattress and hear him curse, and beg, and call his name.
That scenario goes out the window when Gi-hun shoves him back. His knees hit the mattress and he's on his back. He doesn't pause to think, instead he unbuttons his pants and urgently disrobes as Gi-hun does the same.
When Gi-hun's weight settles on his lap, his mind goes blank. He doesn't remember in all his years feeling this frantic for anything, let alone a lover. His hands grip Gi-hun's narrow hips tightly as he clumsily grinds up against his cock. They share a needy groan before Gi-hun’s hands begin exploring until they brush over the scar on his shoulder. "Huh..."
"You're surprised I've been shot in my line of work?" In-ho says, amused.
"Shut up—no. Jun-ho has one too. Other side I think," he muses as his thumb caresses over the bullet wound.
He's filled with rage in an instant. One hand is gripping tightly at Gi-hun's hip, and the other is around his throat. "And why would you know what scars my brother has, Gi-hun?" he asks, his voice cold.
He expects fear, but Gi-hun surprises him again when he laughs, strained by the pressure of In-ho's hand. "Maybe the Hwang brothers have a type."
He may have been incapable of killing Gi-hun, but he'd given his kidney to save his brother, and he'd given up his humanity for his wife. He had nothing left for Gi-hun, not even mercy. "I'd be very careful if I were you," he warns with a squeeze.
Warm hands settle around his forearm, "Or I saw it when he was changing into tactical gear, you asshole," he laughs again.
"I wasn't sure you still had a sense of humour, Gi-hun."
"I'd have lost my mind already if I didn't," he says honestly as he leans back.
The mood has shifted, but In-ho is reluctant to let it go. Not when he's so close to what he wants, to what he's denied wanting for the last few days. It will be gone completely if he lets Gi-hun sit in thought, so instead he rolls his hips, rubbing his cock against the other man's and Gi-hun shivers and sighs.
"You've done this before," In-ho comments idly.
"What? Were you hoping that at my age I'd still be inexperienced? Is that what you want, the fantasy you built up in your head?"
"Just you," In-ho says. He doesn't say anything else as he reaches for the lube he’s stored in the nightstand. He coats his fingers and slides them along Gi-hun's perineum before he presses slowly inside, enjoying the way Gi-hun groans at the intrusion. It doesn't take him long to work a second finger in. Gi-hun's eagerness shows as he rocks back onto his fingers, and it has In-ho wondering how long he's been wanting this. How long he wanted Young-il.
It's Gi-hun that decides he's ready. "Get on with it," he says and waits for In-ho to withdraw his fingers. Once he does, Gi-hun reaches behind him and confidently guides In-ho's cock inside. The heat is glorious, the way he can feel Gi-hun squeeze around him. He swallows thickly and his fingertips dig into Gi-hun's hip in a bruising grip. Gi-hun is so easy for it, his mouth is slack as he fully seats himself in In-ho's lap. He wants to commit this moment to memory. He's won.
Gi-hun's fully seated in his lap, his hands braced on his stomach as he adjusts. He's tense as In-ho rubs soothing circles into the flesh of his hip with his thumb. It's slow when Gi-hun decides he's ready and he begins to rock back and forth, shallow, figuring out what feels best. It's clear when he gets it. His eyes clench shut in pleasure, and he begins to ride him in earnest, lifting himself before sliding back down. In-ho hums in pleasure and his hips snap up in time to meet him.
"You take me so well," In-ho praises him. Gi-hun looks annoyed, but he doesn't say anything. He just continues rocking in In-ho's lap. It's intoxicating.
But Gi-hun eventually slows down. In-ho can feel his leg against him, straining and shaking. His hand slides down and he's met with raised skin on his outer thigh, it’s the scar where he was stabbed in the finale of his own games three years prior. His eyes soften before he pulls Gi-hun forward until he's forced to brace himself with his hands on either side of In-ho's head. Their eyes meet for the first time since they've begun and it's intense. There's a tension there that In-ho's never experienced with anyone else. "Stop the slaughter in the dorms at night..." Gi-hun whispers against his ear. The shaking in his thighs has stopped.
In-ho's lip quirks and instead of answering, he wraps his arms around Gi-hun's waist before he braces his feet on the bed and begins to rock upwards. He doesn't look away from Gi-hun's face, even as the man's eyes widen and his mouth drops open as In-ho increases his pace, rocking upwards with force. He keeps at it, and the little grunts Gi-hun lets out only egg him on as he takes what he wants from Gi-hun.
In-ho reaches between them and grasps Gi-hun's cock before starting to jerk it in time to the thrusts and he watches as Gi-hun's mouth opens further, as his moans start to get louder, and louder. "That's it," In-ho says, admiring the way Gi-hun has completely surrendered to the pleasure.
"Y—" Gi-hun starts to say before he catches himself. "Sh-shut up," he mumbles before In-ho stills his hand.
In-ho is teetering close to the edge, but he knows it wasn't his name on the tip of Gi-hun's tongue, but rather the name of a man who never existed. He ignores the spark of jealousy and keeps up his tortuously slow pace. "Go ahead. Say my name."
He expects defiance, but Gi-hun gives him what he wants. He grinds his hips back against him and whines his name. "Fuck me In-ho."
It's a demand, one that In-ho is more than happy to oblige as he picks up his pace. He's close himself, and his name on Gi-hun's lips as he cries out sends him over the edge. His hips stutter as he finds his release inside. He keeps the hand working Gi-hun's cock at the same pace. It's only moments before Gi-hun cums and In-ho can't help but admire the pleasure filled look on his face as he spills into his fist.
It's perfect.
They sit like that for a beat as they catch their breath before Gi-hun shifts and In-ho's softened cock slips free. Gi-hun doesn't move, he settles back in In-ho's lap as he winds down. He looks like a mess, and when In-ho’s gaze finally reaches Gi-hun’s face, his dark eyes are glossy, and his mind is elsewhere.
In-ho can’t help himself. He pulls Gi-hun back down and catches his swollen lips in a final lazy kiss before he gently wipes at h is lash line. "You're quite pretty when you cry," he says. He knows it's the wrong thing to say, but he can't help himself because it's true.
Gi-hun pulls back with a disgusted look on his face before he climbs off In-ho's lap. "So, I was right. This, everything was all just to humiliate me," he spits as he throws his legs over the edge of the bed.
In-ho watches him silently and debates on dragging him back into his bed but ultimately decides against it. They aren't lovers. Not even close. "That's not why I joined the games."
"Like I can believe anything you say, 'Young-il,'" Gi-hun mocks, turning back to look at him.
"I joined to give you a chance to change my mind. To convince me the games should stop," he admits. It isn't In-ho's fault that Gi-hun failed in the end.
"Right. A chance is why you killed Jung-bae, why you—" his voice cracks as he speaks his fallen friend's name.
"It was you or him," he says like that's the truth.
"Then it should have been me," Gi-hun says as he stands. In-ho can see him favour his good leg now that he knows what to look for. "What now, are you going to try and keep me here forever?" He sniffs, trying to ward away his emotions as he heads towards In-ho's ensuite.
"No. Just until these games are through. You're too dangerous to leave on the playing field," he says honestly.
"I'm so flattered," he mumbles as he heads toward the shower.
In-ho would have him bathe. Let him relax in luxury the way he thinks Gi-hun deserves, but he holds his tongue. There's a lot to do to get the games back on track, including bringing more food to the island for the extra days they'll have to extend the games. Besides, it's not wise to indulge in these inane thoughts he's been having since he felt Gi-hun's mouth on his. So instead, he watches as Gi-hun readies the shower and enjoys what he can before cleaning himself up and he gets back to work.
He returns to work in full capacity, but eventually his eyes are drawn back to Gi-hun's feed. It's the middle of the day, but In-ho notes that Gi-hun has once again cried himself to sleep.
It's not as satisfying to watch as the first time...
He pulls his right hand aside and arranges for guards to be prepared to stop all violence in the dorms once the games underway once more.