Out Of The Frying Pan ( And Into the Fire)

by EJay

Summary:

Gi-hun wakes up confused and scared in an unfamiliar place.
He will soon know there is no escape from there.

Notes:

Hi guys. Thank you so much for the given support and as promised this is the part 2 of the series that will have multiple chapters.I really hope you'll enjoy it.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

The warm presence of the sun on his sleeping face didn't helped in the slightest to ease the absolutely horrible way Gi-hun was feeling. His body hurt everywhere, and no matter how strongly he wished to go back to sleep on his surprisingly comfortable pillow, his mind refused to obey him.

He didn't know why his body hurt like that. Maybe he had a bit too much to drink with Jung-Bae after driving folks all over the place at his exhausting job.Maybe the debt collectors finally caught up to him and they've beaten him up until he passed out.

He didn't understand his current situation, but all he knew was that his head was killing him, and he was absolutely certain he was going to puke and call in sick.

Groaning loudly before tossing and turning to avoid the light that shined brightly in his face, with his eyes still closed Gi-hun, slightly irritated, mumbled hoarsely with all his strength.

''Eomma, make me some samgyetang. I think I'm coming down with something.''

His throat stung each time he attempted to speak, but he needed to get his mom's attention 'He needed to talk to her just one more time' to have at least someone concerned for him.

Awaiting his poor mother's usual snark while slightly dozing off, Gi-hun mentally prepared himself to be scolded again, yet minutes continued to pass by with no one replying. All G-hun could hear was the deafening silence.

It was a strange thing, knowing how his mother usually nagged him about how he needed to get his life back together and how he needed to get Ga-yeong back, and how he needed to get a little more money just to just get by.

Debt collectors were breathing down on his neck, but Gi-hun still needed more money to treat his mother's illness and take care of her. 'Oh God, I'm so sorry '

Horse racing made him lose more than he ever gained, and loan sharks were chasing him everywhere, but he almost had it.

All the money 'He doesn't need it anymore.It's all worthless to him now. Everything was' he could use to get better. He just needed to play some children's games if Jung-Bae couldn't afford to help anymore.

Jung-Bae.

I'm so sorry.

Please forgive me.I didn't want for you to die in that place.

If you'd only talked to me, I would've helped you. Why did you choose to stay? Now you're dead too. You're dead too. J u s t  l i k e  e v e r y o n e. Sang-woo. Ali. Sae-byeok. Jung-bae. I'm so sorry I tried to stop it. I-I beg of you, please don't leave me here.

I tried my best, but even so 

This.

It's all my fault.

Oh. God. Why? I'm so sorry, everyone.

Please forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. I...

YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A PIECE OF TRASH THAT GOT LUCKY AND MADE IT OUT OF THE DUMPSTER.

"AAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH" Suddenly Gi-hun snapped his eyes open, screaming and panting with his eyes tearing up and nearly ripping open the bedsheets by how tightly he held onto them.

'What the—' Gi-hun, confused and already short on breath, lifted his shaky hand to his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He felt his heart beating erratically in his chest and the cold sweat running freely down on his back.

Gi-hun, panicked and nervous, moved his head side by side and looked aimlessly around the odd place in which he found himself in.

He didn't recognize this place in the slightest 'Where was he?' Gi-hun traced with his eyes the unfamiliar room to at least figure out his location and eventually call for help.

All that he saw, however, were only the paintings hung around pastel walls, the much too large bed in which he sat, the wooden nightstands on both sides of the bed, the dresser beside the bed, two doors that led somewhere, and the big glass window that made way for the sun to shine into the room.

Gi-hun slowly rose from the bed and began walking cautiously towards the window. He pulled on its handle, but unfortunately it was locked tightly, and studying it further, on the outside, Gi-hun could see a metal grate that was fixed onto the window's edges.

'Why is that there?' Gi-hun questioned himself, backing up slowly and nearly tripping himself up when Gi-hun made eye contact with the mirror of the dresser and saw his reflection.

He looked changed. Not changed, like he just re-dyed his hair red or put on some weight. Someone has changed his clothes.

Dressed up in what seemed to be a pair of expensively soft red satin pajamas, Gi-hun could only look horrified by his appearance as his reflection followed his exact movements.

He didn't mind the material, as he and his ex-wife owned such textiles before, what disturbed Gi-hun the most, was how unnecessarily short the pants were on him. 'Who the fuck would do such a thing? A-and  to an old man like himself? And where the hell were his clothes?' Gi-hun began to furiously pat himself down, with his face already a deep shade of red, checking to see if anymore changes were done to his body.

He turned and twisted in front of the mirror but couldn't find anything else wrong with his body, only the look of embarrassment on his face at being so indecently exposed was showed as Gi-hun stared at himself in the mirror.

No signs of his phone and no signs of clothes, either' That was just great' Gi-hun sighed and pinched his nose annoyed. 'Why would someone do that to him? He wasn't even that dirty last thing he remembered. They even got him a tux on his size time when he played on the game's final round and at least it was something decent, not...this....ah'

Suddenly realising the last thought that went through his head and opening his mouth, very stupefied, Gi-hun trembled slightly as he remembered some things that previously had happened.

Re-entering the second game.

The failed rebellion.

Jung-bae's death.

Him chasing, hunting, and killing poor Dae-ho.

Knees feeling weak as if someone struck his body with a hammer, Gi-hun being suddenly overwhelmed and unable to process the sudden assault of his memories, dropped to the floor, his stomach tightening up and bile going up his throat. 

"Ahh...ahh...ahhh." Hugging himself to calm down from the induced panic attack, Gi-hun, without too much success, leaned over and vomited all over the pristine floor all the contents of his stomach.

Thankfully it wasn't much considering he had eaten nothing consistent during his participation in his second game.

'Oh God, what have I done?' Beginning to weep softly and feeling overly disgusted with himself for his decisions, Gi-hun felt like a helpless, tiny baby.

Then he remembered something else. The baby. Jun-hee's baby. His promise and YOUNG-IL.

The bastard that killed Jung-bae and the others.

The star of his never-ending nightmares.

THE FRONTMAN.

A justified rage swelled up in Gi-hun's heart, yet he didn't have the time to be consumed by the hatred he felt for the other man even if the unmasked man handed him a knife to deal with the other participants as he saw fit.

Gi-hun would never do what Young-Il wanted. He never had. He never will. He didn't want to succumb to Young-Il's ideals.

'There was something wrong with that man. How could he have been so deceitful, so manipulative, to-to fool everyone like that? Didn't he see camaraderie? Didn't he get to know the other players when he played alongside them? Why would he stick by my side and went along with everything I wanted to do? Just for him to betray us like we've meant nothing to him? How could he?' Gi-hun closed his eyes and shook his head.

No. It did not matter now. He could deal with that thought process later; even if his heart was full of regret and sadness for falling for Young-Il's charm.

What was more important, was the baby.

Where was the baby?

Gi-hun, stumbling and shaking, rose from the floor, leaning his weight on the drawer as he got up and walked over to the door that was in front of him.

Cautiously checking if it was unlocked, he twisted the knob and pushed the door forward.

Prodding hurriedly with his hand stuck inside darkness, he immediately found and pressed on the switch.

Turning the lights on, this room appeared to be the main bathroom.

A modest and tidy room, with white tile walls and a tiny window by the corner. It had a simple porcelain sink with a small mirror that hung above but was fogged slightly with steam, a large bathtub in the corner that was large enough for two people, and a toilet.

Upon entering the room, Gi-hun spotted the fogged mirror and switched on the valve of the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. 'Someone used it recently.'

It wasn't what Gi-hun looked for, but he couldn't overlook the fact that someone lived in this place. The same person who probably kidnapped him in the first place.

Hastily exiting the room, he tried the other door that was beside the bathroom.

He kicked it with his bare foot, not wanting to check anymore, and sprinted down to observe that this door led to a tiny hallway in which another room was right beside his. 'How big was this place?' Gi-hun incredulously thought but unexpectedly halted himself when he heard small coos and soft giggles from the room nearby.

Widening his eyes, Gi-hun hesitantly approached the door and slowly opened it. The room was painted a gentle shade of pink, and placed on its walls were decorative butterflies and blooming cherry blossoms; plush stuffed animals that were scattered all over the floor, an open shelf that held diverse baby products, and, moreover, the air itself that carried the faint scent of lavender and baby powder.

However, what caught Gi-hun's attention the most was the cradle placed in the middle of the room, where faint breathing sounds could be heard.

Walking almost fearfully to the cradle and looking down, Gi-hun didn't want to believe that Jun-hee's baby, now his, apparently, moved her tiny feet and hands playfully as she looked at him.

The baby giggled at him and began cheerfully voicing her unspoken desire to be picked up.

Gi-hun felt a rush of emotions as he reached down, his heart swelling with love and protectiveness.

He gently lifted the baby into his arms, cradling her close, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of hope blossom within him.

''Ooop! Here we go, baby. Hi there!'' Gi-hun didn't hesitated for a second and began fondly stroking the baby's head.

As he cradled her against his chest, a wave of warmth washed over him, filling the void that had lingered for so long.

Her soft coos and gentle movements ignited a sense of purpose within him, reminding him of the love and responsibility that now layed ahead.

'He needed to protect this baby and keep her safe.'

The sight was almost comforting, remembering the hell he had to go through to get the baby to a safe space. The baby was unharmed and safe. The baby was here with him.

The only problem was, Gi-Hun at the moment didn't exactly knew where he was or what had happened after he freed himself from the baby's father.

He was on a rush of adrenaline back then, wanting with all his heart to get the baby to safety, even having the desire to sacrifice his life for her. He swore to Jun-hee, but then, here they were. Both of them.

The only thing Gi-hun felt before passing out after eliminating 333 was the slight pinch on his neck and then darkness.

'What exactly happened to him?'

'Where were they?'

' And most importantly...who would do such a thing?

A VIP?

His rescue team?

That detective, Hwang Jun-ho, maybe? Or maybe a good-hearted person who saved them and would release them once they recovered because they wanted what was best for them?

Not like there was anything wrong with either him or the baby. He still had hope. Maybe he or she or they weren't bad people. Maybe everything was just a big Hopefully?'

All those thoughts made his head spin, but he couldn't stay still and await their captor to show up. 'What if in the end they were bad people?'

He had to inspect this place and try to get some help by himself.

Putting the baby back down in her crib before assuring her he will be back for her, Gi-hun went back to the hallway and moved past the baby's room with the purpose of finding a working phone to call someone for help.

He ventured further into what seemed to be a living room that shared an open space with the kitchen. All very modern and elegant and very non-Korean. 

The placement, the style—so foreign and weird. 'Where in the living hell were they?'

Two windows, four walls, and a corner door. All so enclosed but also very large.

In one half of the room, there was a red couch, a plasma TV, shelves on the walls that were filled with books, and a centerpiece table with chairs, and at its opposite corner, a stove, a fridge, and a drawer with an incorporated sink.

Gi-hun ran quickly towards the drawer and tugged furiously at its compartments, hoping he'd at least find a knife for him to defend himself, but just like his luck in life, he found the cabinets impossible to open.

'Damn it'

Cursing under his breath, Gi-hun searched for another clue about his whereabouts and ran quickly to the windows.

Same metal grates on each of them and when he squinted his eyes to look outside of them and through the metal grates, all he could see were the trees and a variety of greenery.

Turning sideways, Gi-hun tried his chance with the door--a door that unfortunately, same as the drawers, no matter how much he pushed or pulled, stayed unopened.

'I'm so fucked'

No money, no phone, unknown location, no decent clothes—all hope seemed to be lost for Gi-hun as the dread settled in.

He couldn't deal with this; he couldn't deal with being caged like some-some kind of animal.

He needed out.

Breathing faster and faster, Gi-hun enraged to the point of screaming and crying, began kicking and punching at the door, hoping it would just break down.

No such luck apparently.

"Ssibalsaekki! Let us out, you miserable disgusting piece of shit!" Gi-hun screamed as loud as he could, temporarily forgetting that the baby was just in the next room.

 The door stayed closed no matter what Gi-hun did.

He was trapped in here and could almost feel how the walls were closing on him.

Gi-hun slammed his head harshly on the door's surface and began whimpering softly as he imagined countless bad scenarios that might happen.

Yet unexpectedly, as he became almost too self-absorbed in his misery, Gi-hun nearly missed hearing a phone's ringing.

It was coming from the kitchen.

Gi-hun turned back as fast as he could and scanned rapidly with his eyes for the source of the noise.

'There.' He spotted it. Just near the fridge. Practically unseeable. A retro wall phone.

'Who even uses those anymore?'

Having a whiplash of emotions in a span of a few minutes, feeling a pang of hope in his heart, Gi-hun almost ran too enthusiastically to pick up the phone.

"Annyeonghaseyo, please, is anyone there? Help us. I'm with a baby, and I don't know where we are!"

Gi-hun rapidly shouted into the phone, more or less pleading with the unknown person at the other end of the line.

All he could hear at the beginning was the quiet silence. No words spoken, no questions asked back.Just silence.

"Hello?" Gi-hun tried again, and then all of the sudden, he heard someone.

Not someone talking but instead someone breathing loudly at the other end, almost too excited, very much panting and exhaling as if they've had run some kind of marathon.

Gi-hun, feeling creeped out, hanged up the phone and dialed 112, waiting for the line to connect. 

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" 

A gruff, deep voice asked in an impatient tone awaiting Gi-hun's reply, yet the man clad only in silk pyjamas, froze on the spot.

The language, while familiar and definitely having heard it before, Gi-hun couldn't reply a single word.

"What's this? Another idiot phone prank? God damn it. I'm sick and tired of you, you little shits!"

Feeling how the man became annoyed by his tone and knowing for certain that the dispatcher was about to hang up on him, Gi-hun stammered the words he heard from watching the TV to formulate his intentions.

"No...I...need...doum-i pil-yohae? Gi-hun cried on the phone's line, awaiting hopefully a continuation.

The phone trembled in Gi-hun's hand. Desperation clinging to his every breath as he pleaded for help, the faint voice on the other end was a fragile thread of salvation for both him and the baby.

"A foreigner...ccclkk... Sir, do you...ccclk...understand…me? Wha...e…ncy....beep...beep...beep." 

But then once more, silence, sharp, suffocating silence. The line suddenly went dead, and Gi-hun could almost feel his heart breaking into pieces.

No signal. No rescue. He sank onto his knees, the phone slipping from his numb fingers, his spirit fracturing under the unbearable weight of despair.

Click

The loud sound of key opening the front door interrupted Gi-hun's anguish, and he fearfully turned his head slowly to look as the door creaked open.

'Someone was coming '

"Ah" Gi-hun gasped and choked on his spit, not believing his eyes the sight he saw.

There, in the doorway, stood a man, a little shorter than him but dressed impeccably and holding in his arms two paper bags filled with groceries.

The man's hair and eyes were both of a deep dark color, with hair styled to perfection, piercing eyes that sent shivers down on Gi-hun's spine and his face having an almost unreadable expression on it.

Gi-hun recognized the man, and he knew him. All too very well.

The man turned his head to stare down at Gi-hun, who clutched tightly the phone in his hands while sitting on the floor.

"Gi-hun-ya, you're finally awake." The man, as if relieved by the sight , showed a sign of a smile on his somber face.

Gi-hun, however, was not happy at all to see the man.

"Young-Il!" Gi-hun whispered, stupefied and shocked, seeing the man so casually walking toward him.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Guys, I seriously love Gi-hun even if I make him cry so much

"Did you had a good rest? You've made me quite worried for you when you didn't wake up sooner, but I've got to say, you've got the most adorable face when you're sleeping." There he stood, almost too casual and carefree to sense how truly off the situation between them was. Or maybe he just didn't care.

The man clad in black from head to toe, in casual pants and an opened shirt, did not even flinch or seem slightly surprised at seeing Gi-hun on the floor. Did not even look annoyed, instead he humorously laughed, one eyebrow raised, as he put down the groceries on the kitchen table.

"I hope I didn't make you wait for me for too long. I had to leave and take care of some leftovers." The man nonchalantly said, walking towards the shocked unmoving man still on the floor.

Gi-hun blinked once. Blinked twice. Opened his mouth and closed it back up, utterly perplexed by that man's audacity when he saw Young-Il bending down and offering him his hand to get up.

Gi-hun's face twisted in hot boiling anger, and he proceeded to slap the hand away without any desire of ever needing Young-Il's hand before he jumped back to his feet and backed away from the unimpressed but amused man.

"You!" Gi-hun growled and pointed, hand slightly trembling from either the anger that surged throughout his body or the cold breeze of air that Young-Il let in when he came through that door.

Seeing that man after their last encounter answered Gi-hun's big question of who was the person capable of bringing him and the baby to this place, what had only remained was the reason why.

"What's your game, Young-Il?" The taller man shouted furiously, demanding answers from the person that made the last years of his life a living nightmare.

Yet the person Gi-hun knew as Young-Il unexpectedly started to come closer into Gi-hun's personal space as the taller man had no more space to put between them when he backed himself away into the kitchen's drawer.

"Don't come any closer! I'm warning you." Gi-hun said, lowering his voice to the man, yet Young-Il still walked calmly forward as if completely unfazed by his words.

Having no other choice, Gi-hun clenched his fists and hastily jumped to throw the first punch and show that man what was meant to have happened when the man first unmasked himself the last time they met.

Gi-hun spent his time productively after he had won his first game. He started training daily to get into decent shape and learnt various methods of self-defence and how to use a gun properly, but also for the very moment when Young-Il, at that time, basically humiliated him by trampling over his feelings and shamelessly sliding that credit card between his lips.

With an enraged shout, Gi-hun put all his fury into his fist but without forgetting that nearly days ago, the same man put down all by himself two former participants and fought alongside him when they wanted to take his base by force.

"I can take you. I can take you any day! You're not the only one who got moves, you crazy psycho!" 

Gi-hun had trained for this. He could do this. For everyone that died in that horrible place. For Jung-Bae.Sang-woo.Ali.Sae-byeok.

He wasn't the same weak man he was years ago, yet Gi-hun's determination and righteous spirit did not do too much when Young-Il, simply caught his fist mid-air with his left hand and held it in place.

Gi-hun gasped, and Young-Il, smiling with the corner of his mouth, unexpectedly yanked him closer to his body, neatly pressing their bodies together.

'Were Young-Il's eyes gleaming just now, or was it the light from the room playing tricks on me?"

"Yes. I know. I've been watching you. You did so good, Gi-hun-ah!" Young-Il leaned closer and whispered what was meant to sound alluringly in Gi-hun's ear.

The uncomfortable tone and unfamiliar body language, however, sent shivers down on Gi-hun's spine, making the taller man nearly shift away from the man's touch.

Nearly stumbling and feeling apprehensive, Gi-hun asked, clenching his teeth, "What do you mean, Young-Il?" 

The shorter man suddenly pressed down with all his strength on Gi-hun's fist, making him wince in pain, then immediately pushed the taller man back into the wooden drawer, swept with his leg between Gi-hun's own, making him lose his balance in the process, then lowered the grip of his hand and grabbed both of Gi-hun's wrists pinning them on the wooden surface of the drawer.

Gi-hun grunted for being put in the uncomfortable position but remained shocked with silence as he observed the cold look from Young-Il's eyes.

Gi-hun didn't want to admit it to himself, but at that moment, he very much preferred to have that knife back, thank you very much.

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

They were supposed to scream. They were supposed to fight.

Gi-hun could even have tried to muster the courage to get rid of Young-Il for the things he had done.

For all the murders. For the bloodshed. For taking advantage of all the unfortunate people he caught in his despicable games.

Gi-hun wanted him to pay.

But right now Gi-hun could only watch the man nervously as he gazed into his eyes.

"Young-Il, Young-Il, Young-Il. Who is that?" Young-Il asked in an annoyed manner, lowering the tone of his voice and holding steadily the eye contact between them.

Gi-hun, confused, began opening his mouth to ask the man what he meant by that sentence. 'He was Young-Il, unless...'

Young-Il's face changed almost immediately, adopting a more relaxed look, but then he started leaning dangerously close to Gi-hun's own face.

"But I guess it's fine, since I have all the time in the world to teach you, my dear. It's In-ho. Hwang In-ho." 

'He lied about that too.'

'Wait a minute did he just said Hwang? As in?'

"Jun-ho?" Gi-hun asked in quiet mortification, shaking his head from left to right as if he just heard the most unbelievable thing possible.

"No, no, no " Gi-hun said in disbelief.

"My younger brother, yes. I guess I really have to thank him properly for keeping my identity a secret if we'll ever meet again next time.

I really have feared for the worst when I've seen you two talk and meet, but I'm honestly relieved for this, Gi-hun-ah." In-ho nonchalantly explained as he softly caressed Gi-hun's cheek, twirling the short locks of the man's hair between his fingers.

The words, delivered with such a calm conviction that twisted like knives in Gi-hun's gut, were a far greater betrayal than any lie.

After all this time searching for clues and hints of Frontman's identity or location.

'Jun-ho knew and conveniently betrayed him to protect his brother'

It wasn't just that Jun-ho had deceived him; it was that his brother, the very person Jun-ho had supposedly been searching for, cried for, and lied to him for, had chosen this very life, this horrifying game, to rule over it and mercilessly watch how thousands of people died each year.

Gi-hun felt a wave of nausea, a dizzying sense of disorientation. All the risks Jun-ho took and all the trust Gi-hun had unknowingly placed in him led to a profound, suffocating disappointment.

'How could he have been sorry for such an awful liar? Guess it runs in the family, after all'

Gi-hun wanted to cry and break down screaming, yet Young…no, In-ho held him closer and gave him a comforting smile instead.

"You...you've tricked me!" Gi-hun accused, horrified, eyes filling with tears, "All of us. You pretend to be one of us, pretend to help us, pretend to be my friend, and I-I trusted you. Was anything about your story even real? Or was it all just a lie too?"

Gi-hun started to hyperventilate, taking more and more air in his lungs.

"Oh, God! That's why you were looking so insistently at me? Were you having a good time watching us struggle? Did you had fun? Did everything go according to your grand scheme? And what do you mean by "you've been watching me"? TELL ME, IN-HO!"

By the end, Gi-hun ended up screaming and thrashing with all his might in In-ho's grasp, but no matter how hard he tried, the lack of physical strength couldn't do much for him to ensure his escape.

"Tricked you?" In-ho wondered out loud, but then an awful grin slowly stretched across his face. "No, Gi-hun, I've saved you!" 

"I care for you very much, Gi-hun! You have to understand that, puppy. But I also needed you to see," In-ho continued, slowly wiping the tears that started falling from Gi-hun's eyes.

"There, there," In-ho cooed softly. "I did everything for you. I had to. You're just so wonderful. So unnecessarily good and filled with hope. You've reawakened in me so many emotions after all those miserable years alone, and I had to have you closer.

I didn't entirely lie to you; I only told you what was necessary. The real truth now was that I indeed had a sick wife with a child on the way, but unfortunately, they both were in critical condition, and the only way for me to save them was to get more money.

The money that I had made from my work as a detective couldn't cover enough for the treatment, and when I asked some acquaintances for help, my boss took that as me asking for bribes. They fired me on the spot. 

Does it sound familiar until now? Same as you, I participated in the Squid Games and won in 2015, but by the time I returned with the money, my wife and child were long gone.

Il-Nam took me under his wing after my game, and ever since then, I've become the Frontman, doing the necessary good our society couldn't do for people like me and you."

"Oh, God!" Gi-hun whispered, mortified.

"And yes, everything went according to what I've wanted. Ever since you had won your game three years ago, you've utterly charmed me, and I've been irked to know, what made you so special? And I've waited and waited and watched you endlessly, tirelessly, devotedly.

Now that I'm thinking about it, that call at that airport, on that first night after you'd won and were blindfolded, I believed that was the moment when I couldn't get you out of my head, Gi-hun.

You are everything, Gi-hun! Did you actually think I was going to leave you be after witnessing the fire burning in your eyes and your splendid conviction?

I had to be near you and indulge in you. I'm truly sorry, as I said before, for killing Jung-bae, and I truly wished for you to be happy but also needed you to look at me.

But now you can. You can start anew. We can start life again. Together. Me. You. The Baby. It could be so perfect!" In-ho continued having an almost manic glint in his dark eyes, with excitement beaming from his face.

Gi-hun, however, couldn't look In-ho in his eyes after what the man had just said. His face paled considerably, and he wondered in his mind how all the pieces of the puzzle led to such a disastrous conclusion.

Gi-hun didn't want to look at In-ho anymore, but he had to.

"Happy? Are you fucking serious, In-ho? All those people died on that island. They are all dead because of you, and you want me to be happy with you? How insane can you be?" Gi-hun yelled, enraged, but In-ho simply shook his head.

"No, my dear. They've died because they were weak, and remember, most of them wanted to kill you and the baby. Who do you think saved you both?" In-ho pointed out.

"I DIDN'T ASKED TO BE SAVED... I wanted to stop the games and die, In-ho. On that final round, for the baby. I wanted to leave her everything. Don't you understand? I couldn't live with myself anymore. I..''

''The games are no more, yeobo. You successfully stopped Korea's Squid Games.

I've resigned from my position as Frontman, dealt with the VIPs, and successfully blown the island to pieces.

All just for you, my dear! And don't start telling me you suddenly want to die and abandon the child now? Not after seeing you two bond so nicely earlier. Do you really have it in your soul to do that anymore?

After all, the American foster care system is much different than our own regardless if you've won a substantial amount of money or not. They'll take it all away, and she'll be passed from house to house like a sack of rice." In-ho tilted his head sideways, scoffed when he saw the panicked look on Gi-hun's face, and started nuzzling on the man's neck. 

"STOP, already! What do you mean, America? Why did you kidnap us here? What do you even want from me, In-ho? Haven't you done enough?"

Gi-hun, held firmly by In-ho, started wildly thrashing and struggled with newfound vigour, violently kicking his legs trying to aim at In-ho's knees.

Yet, In-ho, catching onto Gi-hun's idea, grabbed him tightly by his right leg, raised it with ease, and placed it above his own waist, therefore now having their hips nearly touch.

"America is a clean slate, a perfect beginning for all of us when no one knows us and nobody will ask any questions if you'd choose to be good and stay, and if not, I don't plan on keeping the child.

And what do I want, you ask? Simple enough. You, my dear! Body, mind, and soul.

I want you to spend the rest of your days with me!"

 Gi-hun tried to pull away, but In-ho's grip was like iron, his fingers digging ever so slightly into Gi-hun's wrists. The air crackled with a sudden, intense energy, and for a long moment, all Gi-hun could do was stare, breathless, into In-ho's unwavering gaze.

"Please, stop already, In-ho! You can't just get rid of the baby! Please, I'll stay! Just let go." Gi-hun, eventually having no other choice, pleaded with the stronger man, lips wobbling and body beginning to hurt after being locked in that position for that long period of time. 

In-hun smiled and unexpectedly complied with his request but leaned over Gi-hun's face and gently kissed him under his eyes before letting go.

"You've won, naekkeo, but me too, as well. I suggest you go take a shower while I put the groceries away and start dinner. Be a darling and take a look at the baby after that too. She'll need to be fed and changed, and since you're already an expert, I'll leave it to you."

Gi-hun could only stare ahead at the empty wall before numbly complying with In-ho's order.

Notes:

See you on the next chapter. Feedback is appreciated ^_^

Chapter 3

Notes:

Sorry for posting so late and thank you for sticking with this until the end.

The hours after their "showdown" dragged on, were slow and dull. Just the kind of quiet Gi-hun thought he needed to clear his head, but somehow, it wasn’t enough anymore.

Not enough to make sense of everything that had happened, nor to calm the storm raging within him.

Gi-hun had to come up with a resolve and fast.

He dazedly followed In-ho's advice, and he returned to fuss over the baby to make sure she didn't need anything anymore, but beyond that, he felt conflicted.

Gi-hun’s heart ached as he looked at the sleeping baby in the crib, so small and innocent amidst the chaos that had swallowed their lives.

Worry gnawed at him, fear twisting tighter with every breath. No matter how much the baby smiled at him or how much she laughed, she was involved in this mess alongside him, and furthermore, she was simply reduced to a bargaining chip.

Gi-hun couldn’t shake the dread of the days ahead—days he’d have to spend with In-ho.

That man was obsessed with him.

In-ho’s actions felt incomprehensible to him.

'How could someone threaten a child’s life so easily?' 

Gu-hun couldn't ever think about overpowering the man or attempt to do anything reckless, not by how well that worked last time.

Even now as he basically shut himself in the baby's room and paced in circles in a panic, Gu-hun could feel somehow as In-ho's eyes were watching him.

In-ho brought him and the baby to America.

In-ho trapped them both in God knows where.

In-ho confessed his feelings for him and essentially blackmailed him; if Gi-hun wanted to leave, he'd abandon the baby.

In-ho probably knows by now; Gi-hun could never do that. Even if he wanted to be free, Gi-hun would never forgive himself for this.

Gi-hun promised Jun-hee he'd take care of the baby no matter what. He won't let despair take him, not now.

“I won’t give up on her.” Gi-hun whispered softly, as if speaking to the baby. “I won’t give up on you.”

Gi-hun had to play along with In-ho's fantasy, but not out of submission, but as a way to protect the fragile life before him and to find a way forward.

Because in the end, that child’s future was worth every sacrifice, and Gi-hun was determined to be the guardian she deserved.

Gi-hun stared blankly at the crib, back against the wall, deeply sighed and pondered what crimes he committed in his past life for him to become a madman's love interest. 'Maybe he lied about that too?'

He never thought someone might be interested in him like that ever again. Not after the divorce. Not after the games. Not after Sang-woo. 

Thinking about the unrequited feelings for his deceased childhood friend, those feelings only brought him now, regret and misery, and Gi-hun didn't want to dwell on imaginary what-if scenarios anymore.

Shaking his head, Gi-hun's mind returned to In-ho.

'Ssibal...these things happened only in the soap operas his mom used to force him to watch with her every day after school.'

It shouldn't have happened to him. Not like this. Not by the one who killed so many people.

But Gi-hun will get through. He has to play along and pray and hope nothing would go wrong.

It's all he could do to move forward and have a little stability in his life.

Gi-hun swallowed his nerves and decided what he needed to do.

'If In-ho wanted to play house so much, he'll give it to him.'

No matter how much he wanted to stay shut in and away from the man, confrontation was unavoidable.

Gi-hun carefully stepped out of the room and marched confidently back to the kitchen, chest puffed out and head held high.

The quiet creak of the floorboards and his not-so-subtle cough announced his presence as he approached the other man.

A faint smell of coffee mixed with something that smelt absolutely mouthwatering hit Gi-hun full force, but even more striking was how In-ho quietly hummed a very familiar old tune.

In-ho glanced up, his eyes catching Gi-hun’s with something softer than usual. “You finally came out,” he said quietly, like he was almost surprised.

''I did what you advised me to do, nothing else.' Gi-hun's voice was steady, but inside, a knot twisted tight.

Fussing over the baby was the one thing he could still control, the one thing that felt familiar.

''May I take a shower and change out of this? Or do I have to beg for that too? Or maybe you want me to call you master as well?' Gi-hun huffed and crossed his arms, indignant.

In-ho’s humming ceased. He slowly turned from the counter, a mixing spoon still in his hand.

His dark eyes, which had moments ago held a softer glint, now seemed to cloud with a subtle, almost imperceptible sadness. A sigh, soft and drawn out, escaped his lips.

“Gi-hun, my dear,” In-ho began, his voice dropping to a gentle, almost wounded tone.

“Is that truly what you think of me? After all the trouble I went through to ensure your comfort, to bring you and the baby to a place where you can finally be safe and cared for? I’m merely trying to make things easier for you, to help you settle in. There’s no need for such… hostility.”

He gestured vaguely with the spoon, as if Gi-hun’s words were a physical blow.

“Of course, you may shower. The bathroom is just through there.” He nodded towards the door Gi-hun had previously found, the one leading to the main bathroom.

“Take your time. Dinner will be ready when you are.”

The feigned hurt in In-ho’s voice was a chilling performance, a stark reminder of his deceptive nature.

Gi-hun felt a fresh wave of disgust, but he forced himself to nod, maintaining his outward composure.

He wouldn't give In-ho the satisfaction of seeing him break.

He turned and walked purposefully towards the bathroom, the quiet click of the door behind him feeling less like an escape and more like a temporary reprieve.

Inside, the warm spray of the shower did little to soothe the storm in Gi-hun’s mind.

He scrubbed at his skin, as if trying to wash away the lingering sensation of In-ho’s touch and the weight of his words.

His mind raced, replaying the last few hours, the last few days.

In-ho’s calm, domestic facade was more terrifying than any overt threat. It was a cage disguised as comfort, a prison built of forced normalcy.

'He's trying to break me with kindness' Gi-hun thought, the water drumming against the tiles. 'He wants me to accept this. To accept him.'

But Gi-hun wouldn't. He couldn't. Not now. Not when the baby’s future depended on him. He had to find a way out. This house, this isolated location, it was all part of In-ho’s grand design. He needed to understand the design to destroy it.

He began to mentally map the house. The baby’s room, the main bedroom, the bathroom, the open-plan living room and kitchen. Two windows with grates, one locked door. He remembered the retro wall phone, the dead line. No signal. No outside contact. In-ho had thought of everything.

But had he thought of everything?

Gi-hun finished his shower, dried himself, and found fresh, comfortable clothes laid out for him – a soft cotton t-shirt and loose sweatpants. More of In-ho's meticulous planning.

He dressed, feeling the weight of the situation settle anew.

When he returned to the kitchen, the scent of cooking was even stronger, undeniably delicious.

In-ho was at the stove, stirring something in a pot, his back to Gi-hun.

The quiet hum had returned, a domestic melody that grated on Gi-hun’s nerves.

The kitchen counter was neatly organised, groceries put away and a fresh pot of rice steaming on the side. It was a picture of perfect, unsettling normalcy.

In-ho glanced over his shoulder, a small, almost innocent smile on his face. “Ah, Gi-hun. Just in time. Dinner is almost ready. I made kimchi jjigae, just the way you like it.”

Gi-hun’s stomach rumbled instinctively, a traitorous response to the familiar comfort food.

He ignored it, his eyes scanning the room, searching. He noted the placement of every utensil, every pot, every shadow. He looked at the windows again, then the door. He tried to remember every detail of In-ho’s movements, his habits.

'He’s too comfortable here,' Gi-hun mused, watching In-ho. 'That’s his weakness. He believes he’s won. He believes I’m trapped. But I’m not. Not yet.'

He would play along. He would eat In-ho’s food, endure his presence, pretend to settle into this twisted version of a family.

But every moment, every breath, would be dedicated to finding the crack in In-ho’s perfect cage. He would watch, he would learn, and he would wait for his chance. For the baby. For his freedom.

The dinner was a silent affair, punctuated only by the clinking of spoons against ceramic bowls.

In-ho had set the table meticulously, two places laid out, as if this were a normal, loving home.

He served Gi-hun a generous portion of the steaming kimchi jjigae, the aroma a cruel reminder of a life Gi-hun had lost, a life where such simple comforts weren't laced with terror and a life he can't never return to again.

Gi-hun ate slowly, deliberately, his gaze fixed on his bowl, avoiding In-ho’s eyes. He could feel In-ho watching him, a heavy, possessive stare that made his skin crawl, a constant pressure on his very being.

In-ho, for his part, seemed content to simply observe, occasionally taking a bite of his own food, a faint, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

It was a performance of domestic bliss, and Gi-hun was a reluctant actor in In-ho’s twisted play, every bite a bitter pill.

'He wants me to acknowledge him' Gi-hun realised, stirring his soup, a tremor running through his hand. 'He wants me to thank him, to act like this is normal. Like he hasn't kidnapped me and blackmailed me with a baby. He wants to see me break, to see me accept this as my new reality. But I won't. I can't.'

He kept his face impassive, his movements simple, the very mask of weary compliance. He finished his meal, placed his spoon down, and pushed his bowl slightly forward.

“Thank you,” Gi-hun said, his voice flat, devoid of warmth, a hollow echo in the quiet room. He didn't look up, refusing to meet the gaze he knew was fixed on him.

In-ho chuckled softly. “You’re welcome, Gi-hun. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” There was a pause, a beat of uncomfortable silence, thick with unspoken expectations. “The baby will need feeding soon. Perhaps you’d like to… bond with her further?”

Gi-hun finally met In-ho’s gaze. There was a challenge there, a subtle test, a push to see if Gi-hun would resist this domestic chore, this pretence of shared responsibility.

“I will” Gi-hun replied, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. He rose from the table, the sense of In-ho’s eyes on his back a constant prickle.

He would care for the baby, of course. That was a given, an instinct deeper than any fear.

But his mind was already elsewhere, memorising In-ho’s reactions, his expectations, and the subtle ways he tried to assert dominance.

But then suddenly, In-ho rose up from his chair. ''As a matter of fact, I will come and help as well.'

''Ah'' Gi-hun nodded silently but showed surprise on his face.

Inside the baby’s room, the soft glow of a nightlight illuminated the crib.

The baby stirred, a tiny whimper escaping her lips. Gi-hun picked her up; the familiar warmth of her small body calmed his nerves a little. He held her close, and Gi-hun began to rock the baby in his arms.

In-ho took a long look at Gi-hun and the baby from his arms and smiled melancholically. ''Let me?''

Gi-hun, however, pulled the baby closer to him.

In-ho chuckled as if amused. ''I won't hurt her. I just want to hold her, my dear.''

Gi-hun snorted and gave In-ho a dirty look. ''Do you honestly expect me to believe that? After saying you'd abandon her if I left? No way in hell.''

In-ho’s melancholic smile tightened, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable crossing his features before it was quickly masked.

He lowered his gaze from Gi-hun to the baby, his voice dropping, softer now, almost pleading.

“Gi-hun, please. You don’t understand. I… I had plans. For my own child. When my wife was pregnant, I prepared myself for everything.

I took cooking classes, learnt how to clean and how to manage a home properly.

I doted on my wife, every day Gi-hun.

Every single day. I imagined holding our baby, teaching them, watching them grow.

I was ready to be a father. A good one.”

His voice cracked slightly on the last words, a stark, unexpected vulnerability that caught Gi-hun off guard.

He looked up, his eyes searching Gi-hun’s, a desperate plea for understanding.

“That baby… she reminds me of everything I lost. Everything I wanted to be. I wouldn’t hurt her. How could I?”

Gi-hun watched him, a complex mix of emotions stirring within him. A wave of profound, unwelcome sympathy washed over him, piercing through his fear and resentment.

This was the man who had orchestrated so much death, yet here he was, speaking of lost dreams and parental longing with a raw, undeniable ache.

It didn't absolve In-ho, not in the slightest, but it painted a picture of a man utterly broken, then twisted into something monstrous by his own grief.

Gi-hun clutched the baby closer, not out of fear, but as if to shield himself from the unsettling depth of In-ho’s pain.

This vulnerability, whether real or a calculated performance, was a new piece of the puzzle, and Gi-hun knew he had to analyse it to understand its implications for his own survival.

In-ho seemed to take Gi-hun’s silence as a sign of reluctant acceptance.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out, slowly, tentatively, towards the baby.

Gi-hun tensed, but didn’t pull away, his eyes fixed on In-ho’s face, searching for any hint of deceit.

In-ho’s fingers, surprisingly gentle, brushed the baby’s tiny hand, then stroked her cheek. A soft, almost reverent expression crossed his face, a look Gi-hun hadn't seen before. It was a look of genuine longing, of profound  unfulfilled sorrow.

“She’s beautiful.” In-ho whispered, his voice thick with emotion Gi-hun couldn't quite decipher. He didn’t try to take the baby; he simply stood there, watching, a silent, yearning presence.

Gi-hun watched him, a rotten idea beginning to form in his mind. This was it. This was the crack.

This was the humanity, however distorted, that he could've exploit.

In-ho’s obsession with him, his twisted desire for family, and his profound grief, these were not just chains but leverage.

Gi-hun felt a surge of grim determination. He would use every single one of In-ho’s vulnerabilities against him 'If he could'.

Gi-hun cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence.

"She needs to be fed now," Gi-hun said, his voice carefully neutral, pulling the baby slightly away from In-ho's reach.

It was a subtle assertion of his own role, a reminder that while In-ho might yearn, Gi-hun was the one actively caring.

In-ho nodded, his expression shifting, the melancholic facade beginning to recede, replaced by a more familiar, controlled demeanour.

"Of course. I'll prepare her bottle." He turned, moving back to the kitchen with a renewed sense of purpose, leaving Gi-hun alone with the baby and the unsettling weight of his new understanding.

Gi-hun fed the baby, his movements precise, his gaze fixed on the door to the kitchen. He could hear In-ho moving around, the clinking of glass, the soft hum of the refrigerator.

Every sound was a piece of information, every action a potential key.

He was no longer just a prisoner; he was a spy, meticulously gathering data on his captor.

Two can play this game after all.

Later, after the baby was soundly asleep, Gi-hun returned to the living room.

In-ho was gone and the kitchen was  spotless. The chilling efficiency of his kidnapper evident in every perfectly placed item.

He walked to the front door, testing the handle again. Still locked.

He defiantly looked out at the metal grates on the outside of the windows, cold and unyielding, a visible, undeniable barrier to the world beyond his reach.

' He will figure something out. In-ho can't keep us locked here forever '

He moved silently, a ghost in the house, his senses heightened.

He systematically checked every cupboard, drawer, and potential hiding spot.

He ran his hands along the walls, searching for loose panels.

He even got down on his hands and knees, peering under furniture, hoping for a forgotten key, a dropped phone, or anything In-ho might have overlooked. Nothing. In-ho was terrifyingly thorough.

He found himself walking back to the bedroom, the door slightly ajar.

He hesitated, then pushed it open. It was the same room he’d woken up in, large and impeccably tidy, dominated by a single, king-sized bed.

Gi-hun’s gaze fell upon it, noting the crisp, untouched sheets and the two pillows neatly arranged. A shiver ran down his spine. This wasn't just a bedroom; it was their bedroom.

'Oh God' Gi-hun thought, the realisation hitting him with a fresh wave of nervousness.

The unspoken expectation of sharing this space, of this forced intimacy, was almost too much for him.

'He can't possibly want to?' Gi-hun shook his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck, hot and bothersome.

However when he sat almost too harshly on the bed's mattress, the weight of his body revealed something unexpectedly. A single, leather-bound journal that was hid away from pryinng eyes.

Gi-hun’s heart hammered. A journal. It could contain information, a routine, a weakness, or something. A direct link into In-ho’s mind and a potential lead for his escape.

He reached for it, his fingers brushing the cool leather. The promise of answers was tantalisingly close.

But then he heard the distinct sound of the bathroom door, connected directly to this very bedroom, opening.

He froze, hand hovering over the journal, every muscle tensed. He snatched his hand back, shoving the journal back under the mattress with a frantic, desperate motion, just as In-ho emerged from the bathroom.

In-ho was dressed only in a pair of dark boxers, his hair slightly dishevelled and wet. The fabric clung to his lean, muscular frame, highlighting the sculpted lines of his chest and abdomen.

Gi-hun’s gaze involuntarily dropped, a purely physical response igniting deep within him, making his cheeks flush even darker.

He quickly averted his eyes, the heat in his face a stark contrast to the cold dread in his stomach.

In-ho, however, caught the movement, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, observing Gi-hun with an unnerving intensity.

“Couldn’t sleep, Gi-hun?” he asked, his voice soft, almost sympathetic, yet with a sense of knowing.

“It takes time to adjust to a new home. But don’t worry; you’ll get used to it. We have all the time in the world.”

Gi-hun forced a neutral expression. “Just stretching my legs,” he lied, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

“I need some water, my throat feels a little tight.” The necessity of reading the journal consuming Gi-hun's mind. '’Finally something’ 

In-ho simply smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes that made Gi-hun wonder if he had been watched all along.

“Anything for you, Gi-hun.” In-ho said, his voice a low purr. He then turned and walked towards the kitchen, leaving Gi-hun alone in the unsettling silence of the bedroom.

'All the time in the world' In-ho had said.

Gi-hun knew that was a lie. He didn’t have all the time in the world. He had to find a way out, and soon.

And that journal… it might be the first real crack in In-ho’s perfect facade, the key to understanding the man who held him captive, and ultimately, the key to his own freedom.

Gi-hun grasped the journal from under the mattress. He opened the old leather cover with shaky fingers.

As he began to read, his eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again, darting across the pages.

His breath hitched, a ragged sound tearing from his chest.

His fingers went numb, the journal almost slipping from his grasp. The words on the page swam, then sharpened into an unnerving clarity. It wasn't about strategies, or weaknesses, or escape routes, or even his own capture. It was about him.

Page after page, filled with every perceived glance, every quiet moment, every imagined future they would share, all laced with profound, unsettling declarations of love.

A profound, disorienting wave of surprise washed over him, leaving him dumbfounded. This wasn't the monster he thought he knew, not entirely.

The implications of this truth settled over him, heavy and suffocating.

This wasn't just a fleeting admission from In-ho; it was a meticulously documented, deep, consuming fixation.

Gi-hun felt a strange, unsettling mix of disbelief and a chilling confirmation.

He wasn't just a hostage; he was truly the object of an obsessive, dangerous love.

Gi-hun stared at the journal, the leather cool and smooth beneath his trembling fingers.

He had heard the words, but now he saw them.

A shiver, involuntary and deep, ran through him.

In-ho had told the truth.

It honestly made Gi-hun feel… seen, in a way he hadn't been in years, but seen by someone who wanted to own him, not cherish him. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow.

Gi-hun closed the journal with a slam and shoved it back between the mattress.

In-ho then returned from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. He paused, looking at Gi-hun.

“You should try to rest, Gi-hun. Tomorrow is a new day. A new beginning for us.” He walked towards the bedroom, but before entering, he paused at the doorway, turning back to Gi-hun.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already made all the arrangements for our new life here. Everything is taken care of. You just need to… relax.”

'It seemed like In-ho didn't want to make any moves on him, just sleep together in the literal sense.'

The door closed with a soft click. Gi-hun heard the faint rustle of sheets, the creak of the bed.

He imagined In-ho lying there, perhaps smiling to himself, already planning their future.

Gi-hun didn't dare to look. The thought of that shared bed, the unspoken expectation, sent a fresh wave of nervousness through him.

He wouldn't sleep. He couldn't. Not when every moment was a battle for his mind, his sanity, his very existence. He would stay awake, he would watch, and he would wait.

The night stretched on agonisingly slow.

Gi-hun laid stiffly on the king-sized bed, almost too overly cautious to the point he didn't dare to even breathe too loudly.

He was on the very edge, pressed as far from In-ho as possible without risking a fall, his back a rigid line of defiance.

Suddenly, a warm arm wrapped around him from behind, a gentle, possessive weight settling on his waist.

Gi-hun’s entire body stiffened, a silent gasp catching in his throat, and he instinctively jumped.

He could feel In-ho's body warmth against his back, a suffocating heat, and the soft brush of his breath on his neck sent a jolt down his spine.

A shiver of pure, startled surprise ran through him.

“Cold, my dear?” In-ho murmured, his voice thick with sleep, yet possessive, the words a low rumble against Gi-hun's ear.

His arm tightened around Gi-hun’s waist, pulling him further into the embrace, a silent but clear statement of his fondness.

Gi-hun’s mind screamed in protest, a frantic, hidden turmoil against the forced proximity, but his body, exhausted and vulnerable, remained still.

‘'So stubborn’’ In-ho teased lightly and began tracing softly, almost tenderly, patterns on Gi-hun’s side, a gesture that felt utterly affectionate.

Gi-hun’s heart hammered, a frantic drum against his ribs, threatening to burst through his chest.

“I didn’t lie to you back then, you remind me so much of her. Both so stubborn. Nothing could ever change your mind.” In-ho’s voice was a soft, melancholic whisper against Gi-hun’s hair.

Gi-hun recalled In-ho’s earlier confession about his deceased wife and his lost child.

But he couldn’t pretend anymore. He forced his voice out, a strained whisper that cut through the quiet.

“I am not her. I am not your wife and I’m not a replacement for her either”

He finally turned, his face pale in the dim light, meeting In-ho’s gaze directly.

“And I don’t want to be treated like a possession or as someone that has be owned either. I’m a human, In-ho.”

In-ho's hand went to Gi-hun's cheek, and he began to caress it lightly.

“I understand.” In-ho murmured, his voice laced with a strange, almost painful tenderness. “You just make me feel emotions again.” 

In-ho’s gaze softened further, a profound sadness settling in his dark eyes.

He didn't release Gi-hun, but his arm relaxed slightly, the possessiveness easing into a more gentle hold.

“I know, Gi-hun,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I know you’re not her. But you… you make me feel human again. You make me feel alive. You make me want to live, to be better. You make me believe in love once again.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, a deep, shuddering breath escaping his lips, as if the admission itself was a heavy burden.

Gi-hun stared at him, the raw honesty in In-ho's voice disarming him for a fleeting moment.

The anger and fear that had been a shield began to crack, revealing a sliver of bewildered empathy.

"But... at what cost, In-ho?" Gi-hun's voice was softer now, tinged with a desperate sadness.

"At the cost of my freedom? My life? The baby's future? This isn't love, In-ho. This is... this is a cage." He gestured vaguely around the opulent, yet confining, bedroom.

"You can't force someone to love you. You can't just take what you want."

In-ho opened his eyes, his gaze intense, almost pleading.

"I'm not forcing you, Gi-hun. I'm... I'm showing you. Showing you what we could have. A family. A life where you're safe, cared for. Where you don't have to worry about money, about anything. Isn't that what you wanted? A stable life for the baby?"

His voice was earnest, almost childlike in its conviction.

"Just... give us a chance, Gi-hun. Give me a chance."

Gi-hun flinched at the touch, pulling his head back slightly, but In-ho's grip on his waist kept him from fully retreating.

"A chance?" Gi-hun's voice was incredulous, a bitter laugh escaping him.

"You kidnapped me, In-ho! You threatened a baby's life! You call this a chance? This is a nightmare! How can I trust you? How can I ever feel safe with you, knowing what you've done, what you're capable of?"

His eyes, wide and desperate, searched In-ho's, seeking any flicker of true remorse, any sign that the man understood the depth of his actions.

But In-ho's gaze remained unyielding, a strange mixture of longing and unwavering conviction.

"That was a bluff, Gi-hun." In-ho said, his voice dropping to a low, almost weary tone.

"I would never truly harm the baby. I would have sent her to Jun-ho, my brother. I couldn't raise her without you. I... I need you for that, Gi-hun. I need you."

His hand tightened on Gi-hun's cheek, a desperate plea in his eyes. Gi-hun stared at In-ho, the words "I need you" echoing in the quiet room.

The desperation in In-ho's eyes was raw, undeniable, and for the first time, Gi-hun saw past the Front Man, past the kidnapper, to the broken man beneath.

He saw the profound loneliness, the gaping wound left by loss, and the desperate, misguided attempt to fill that void.

It didn't excuse In-ho's actions, not by a long shot, but it offered a terrifying, unsettling clarity.

In-ho wasn't just a monster; he was a monster shaped by profound grief, and Gi-hun, in his stubbornness and his unexpected connection to the baby, had become the unwitting key to In-ho's twisted salvation.

The realisation was a cold, hard knot in Gi-hun's stomach. He understood now.

Gi-hun sighed, a long, drawn-out sound of profound exhaustion, and turned his gaze to the white ceiling above them.

His voice, when it came, was flat, devoid of emotion, like a stone skipping across a still pond.

"I will never forgive you for killing Jung-bae!" he stated, the words a quiet, unyielding declaration, the name a raw wound.

"And I know about the cameras, In-ho. Just like the motel. I want them all removed from this house. Now."

Gi-hun then shifted slightly, the movement deliberate, a subtle challenge.

"If you truly want to play family, In-ho," he continued, his voice gaining a new, steely edge, "then you need to start by trusting me. And that means removing those metal grates from the windows. I need to see the sky, In-ho. I need to breathe. And the baby needs sunlight.

In-ho’s reaction was immediate and overwhelming. A joyous, almost childlike gasp escaped him, and before Gi-hun could react, In-ho leaned in and kissed him full on the lips.

The kiss was fervent, almost desperate, filled with a raw, unbridled elation that bordered on terrifying.

“Are you saying yes? Are you giving us a chance? Oh, Gi-hun, thank you, thank you!” In-ho's voice was thick with emotion, a mixture of joy and laughter, and he pulled Gi-hun into a tight embrace, burying his face in Gi-hun’s neck.

Gi-hun remained stiff, overwhelmed by the sudden, intense display of affection, the dizzying scent of In-ho’s skin, and the sheer, unsettling joy emanating from the man who held him closer.

Gi-hun’s breath hitched, a sudden, hot flush spreading across his cheeks. The unexpected contact, the soft pressure of In-ho's lips, sent a jolt through him.

A traitorous spark of something undeniably pleasant ignited deep within him. The dizzying scent of In-ho’s skin, the warmth of his embrace, and the sheer, unsettling joy emanating from the man who held him tight, all combined into a confusing, yet undeniably alluring sensation.

He didn't pull away, his body leaning almost imperceptibly into the possessive embrace. It was an exhilarating and utterly bewildering moment.

In-ho chuckled, a low, satisfied sound rumbling against Gi-hun’s ear.

“I knew you were watching me as well Gi-hun. When I was playing as Young-Il and let me tell you” In-ho leaned closer.

“I didn’t mind it one bit. But I wanted you to scream out my name, not someone named Young-Il.”

In-ho then shifted, his weight settling more fully on top of Gi-hun, his body pressing down gently.

Gi-hun felt the firm press of In-ho's chest rubbing against his own, making his brow furrow slightly.

In-ho's hand, which had been in Gi-hun's hair, now slid down to cup the back of his neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin just behind his ear. The other hand, previously on Gi-hun's side, moved to rest on his hip, a subtle, possessive weight.

Gi-hun's heart pounded, a frantic drum against his ribs, a mixture of apprehension and a strange, undeniable thrill.

He found himself unable to move, caught in the intoxicating stare of In-ho's eyes and the unexpected tenderness of his touch.

In-ho's lips found Gi-hun's neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along his jawline, then lower, to the pulse point throbbing at his throat. Gi-hun shivered, a gasp escaping him as In-ho's touch ignited a deeper warmth within him.

In-ho's hand on his hip began to move, slowly, deliberately, tracing the curve of his waist, then dipping lower, just barely brushing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

Gi-hun's breath hitched again, his fingers clenching involuntarily in the sheets beneath him.

The air in the room grew thick with unspoken desire, a silent hum of anticipation that resonated between their bodies.

Gi-hun shivered, a gasp escaping him as In-ho's touch ignited a deeper warmth within him.

Gi-hun's breath hitched again, his fingers clenching involuntarily in the sheets beneath him.

In-ho's other hand slid from Gi-hun's neck, moving down his back, pressing him closer still, until their bodies were flush against each other.

The air in the room grew thick with unspoken desire, a silent hum of anticipation that resonated between their bodies, a tension that was both thrilling and terrifying.

Gi-hun felt a dizzying rush, a confusing mix of lust and undeniable arousal.

In-ho’s leg now shifted, sliding between Gi-hun’s, a deliberate movement that brought their lower bodies into closer contact.

Gi-hun felt the hard ridge of In-ho’s arousal press against his thigh, a jolt of heat and surprise shooting through him.

A low moan escaped Gi-hun’s lips, almost imperceptible, as In-ho’s kisses grew more insistent, moving from his neck to his ear, then finally, back to his mouth.

This time, the kiss was deeper, more demanding, a silent claim that left Gi-hun breathless and trembling. He felt a strange pull, a reluctant surrender to the escalating intimacy, his body betraying his mind’s protests.

In-ho’s lips parted from Gi-hun’s, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping him. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded with desire, met Gi-hun’s, a silent question passing between them.

Gi-hun’s gaze was unfocused, his mind reeling from the intensity of the moment, his body humming with a sensation both foreign and strangely welcome. 

''If you don't feel comfortable, my dear'' In-ho panted, gaze lingering on Gi-hun's clothed chest but still just as affected as the flushed man under him. 'We can stop any time. Just say the word.''

Gi-hun, frustrated, groaned and grabbed In-ho's face and slammed their lips back together, making In-ho laugh.

In-ho’s hand, still on Gi-hun’s hip, moved to the hem of Gi-hun’s shirt, slowly, deliberately, pulling it upwards.

Gi-hun tensed, a flicker of hesitation, but the warmth of In-ho’s touch on his bare skin quickly overwhelmed any resistance.

In-ho’s fingers brushed lightly over Gi-hun’s abdomen, then higher, over his ribs, a feather-light touch that sent goosebumps across his skin.

Gi-hun arched slightly into the touch, a soft whimper escaping him. In-ho’s smile widened, a predatory yet tender curve of his lips.

Gi-hun’s shirt was slowly eased up and over his head, In-ho’s hands pausing for a moment to cup Gi-hun’s bare shoulders, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin.

The cool air of the room met the sudden warmth of Gi-hun’s exposed torso, sending another shiver through him.

In-ho’s gaze dropped, lingering on Gi-hun’s chest, a silent appreciation that made Gi-hun’s skin flush.

Then, In-ho’s hands slid down Gi-hun’s arms, pulling the discarded shirt away and tossing it lightly to the side of the bed.

In-ho’s hands returned to Gi-hun’s waist, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh there, before moving lower, towards the waistband of Gi-hun’s sweatpants.

Gi-hun shivered, his eyes closing instinctively as he felt the subtle pressure. The anticipation was a tangible thing, a heavy weight in the air between them.

In-ho’s touch was slow, deliberate, each movement a silent question, an invitation Gi-hun found himself increasingly unable to refuse.

In-ho’s fingers slipped beneath the elastic of Gi-hun’s sweatpants, his touch warm against Gi-hun’s skin. A low groan rumbled in In-ho’s chest as he felt Gi-hun’s involuntary twitch.

His thumb brushed against the sensitive skin of Gi-hun’s inner thigh, sending a fresh wave of heat through him.

Gi-hun’s hips instinctively shifted, a silent, almost desperate plea for more.

In-ho’s gaze, still locked with Gi-hun’s, held a triumphant gleam. He leaned down, his lips brushing Gi-hun’s ear. “Ready to scream my name, Gi-hun?” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

Gi-hun’s sweatpants were eased down his legs, pooling around his ankles, then kicked away with a gentle nudge from In-ho’s foot.

Gi-hun was now clad only in his underwear, the thin fabric doing little to hide the burgeoning evidence of his arousal.

In-ho’s eyes devoured the sight, a satisfied hum vibrating in his chest. His hands moved to Gi-hun’s inner thighs, stroking upwards, slowly, steadily, until his fingers brushed the elastic of Gi-hun’s boxers.

Gi-hun groaned unabashedly, his body arching into the touch.

In-ho’s thumb found the sensitive skin just above Gi-hun's knee, applying a light pressure that sent a jolt through him.

Gi-hun's hands, which had been resting limply by his sides, now rose, almost involuntarily, to grip In-ho's bare shoulders, his fingers digging lightly into the firm muscle.

The room was silent save for their ragged breaths, the tension a palpable, living thing between them.

In-ho’s fingers hooked under the elastic of Gi-hun’s boxers, a slow, teasing pull that made Gi-hun’s breath catch.

He felt the cool air against his skin as the fabric was drawn down, inch by agonizing inch, until it too joined the discarded clothes at the foot of the bed.

Gi-hun was now completely bare beneath In-ho’s gaze, vulnerable and exposed. A tremor ran through him, a mix of shame and a raw, undeniable excitement.

In-ho’s eyes, dark and intense, traced every line of Gi-hun’s body, a silent appreciation that made Gi-hun’s skin prickle with heat.

In-ho’s hands then moved, one cupping Gi-hun’s hip, pulling him closer, while the other slid up Gi-hun’s chest, fingers lightly trailing over his nipples, making them harden in response.

A soft moan escaped Gi-hun’s throat, a sound he barely recognised as his own.

In-ho leaned down, his lips finding Gi-hun’s again, this time with a deep, hungry passion that left no room for thought, only sensation.

Gi-hun’s hands tightened on In-ho’s shoulders, pulling him closer, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of desire.

In-ho’s mouth left Gi-hun’s, trailing a path of hot, wet kisses down his throat, over his collarbone, and finally settling on his hardened nipple.

Gi-hun gasped, his back arching off the bed as In-ho’s tongue flicked and suckled, sending waves of intense pleasure through him.

In-ho’s hand on Gi-hun’s hip moved lower, his fingers tangling in the soft hair at Gi-hun’s groin, a light, teasing brush that made Gi-hun squirm.

Gi-hun’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body now fully alive with a desperate need he hadn't known he possessed. He felt himself pushing against In-ho, a silent plea for more, for the release that was building within him.

In-ho chuckled, a low, satisfied sound rumbling against Gi-hun’s ear. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this, Gi-hun” he whispered, his voice thick with unmasked desire.

His hand moved from Gi-hun’s groin, sliding down his inner thigh, then back up, a slow, deliberate caress that made Gi-hun’s muscles clench.

In-ho’s other hand, still on Gi-hun’s chest, pressed down gently, urging Gi-hun deeper into the mattress.

Gi-hun’s hips bucked, a desperate, involuntary movement. In-ho’s own body shifted, his hard arousal pressing more firmly against Gi-hun’s.

A low groan escaped Gi-hun’s lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated need.

In-ho’s eyes, dark and intense, met Gi-hun’s, a silent question passing between them.

Gi-hun, lost in the swirling vortex of sensation, could only nod, desperate for In-ho to continue, to take him further.

In-ho took Gi-hun’s silent plea as an invitation. He shifted, rising slightly to adjust his own dark boxers, then moved to kneel between Gi-hun’s spread thighs.

Gi-hun’s eyes fluttered open, wide and dazed, as he felt the warm, heavy weight of In-ho’s body settling over him.

In-ho’s hands moved to Gi-hun’s waist, gripping him firmly, then slowly, deliberately, he began to prepare Gi-hun's entrance with his fingers. He began to lightly stretch the man slowly and carefully. Then pressed two fingers in and stretched until In-ho felt Gi-hun relax. After seeing Gi-hun nodding, In-ho finally sheathed himself into Gi-hun's heat.

Gi-hun gasped, a sharp intake of breath as he felt the first, hesitant press, then the slow, inexorable slide of In-ho entering him.

A tremor ran through Gi-hun’s entire body, a mix of pain and pleasure, as he instinctively arched against the invading warmth.

In-ho paused, his breath ragged against Gi-hun’s ear, allowing Gi-hun’s body to adjust, his hands still gripping Gi-hun’s hips, holding him steady.

Gi-hun’s fingers dug into In-ho’s shoulders, his nails leaving faint marks on the taut skin. “In-ho” Gi-hun whimpered, the name a broken plea, a surrender, and a desperate cry all at once.

In-ho responded with a low growl, pushing deeper, filling Gi-hun completely. Gi-hun cried out, a sharp, raw sound that was quickly swallowed by In-ho’s hungry kiss.

In-ho began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm at first, then building in intensity, each thrust driving Gi-hun further into the mattress, further into the intoxicating vortex of sensation.

Gi-hun’s hips rose to meet him, a primal instinct taking over as he matched In-ho’s pace, his body responding with a desperate urgency.

The sounds of their skin slapping together, their ragged breaths, and Gi-hun’s increasingly fervent moans filled the room, a symphony of raw, unbridled passion.

In-ho’s hands left Gi-hun’s hips, moving to cup Gi-hun’s face, his thumbs stroking Gi-hun’s flushed cheeks as he looked into Gi-hun’s dazed, pleasure-filled eyes.

“Scream my name, Gi-hun ” In-ho demanded, his voice a low, guttural rumble, pushing deeper, harder, faster.

Gi-hun’s entire body convulsed, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over him, and he cried out, "In-ho!" the name torn from his throat as he shattered, his climax echoing In-ho's own deep groan as he followed moments later.

In-ho collapsed onto Gi-hun, his weight a comforting, heavy blanket, his breath hot against Gi-hun’s neck.

Gi-hun lay beneath him, trembling, his body spent and aching, yet a strange sense of calm settled over him amidst the lingering tremors of pleasure.

In-ho stirred, lifting his head slightly, his eyes still heavy-lidded with satiation as he looked down at Gi-hun.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Gi-hun’s forehead.

Gi-hun, still dazed, found himself leaning into the touch, a silent acceptance passing between them in the aftermath of their shared release.

A few moments passed in comfortable silence, punctuated only by their slowing breaths.

In-ho finally shifted, carefully rolling off Gi-hun but remaining close, his arm still draped possessively over Gi-hun’s waist.

He reached for a towel from withing the nightstand and dampened it with a bottle of water he ran to get from the kitchen and began to gently wipe Gi-hun’s skin, cleaning it thoroughly.

His touch was tender, almost reverent, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Gi-hun watched him, a strange mix of exhaustion and a lingering, confusing warmth in his chest.

In-ho’s eyes, when they met Gi-hun’s, held a deep, satisfied glow, a possessive tenderness that made Gi-hun’s heart flutter despite himself.

Gi-hun took a shaky breath, the lingering haze of pleasure slowly receding, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose.

He met In-ho’s gaze, his voice still a little hoarse, but firm. "You promised, In-ho," he said, his eyes unwavering. "The cameras. The grates. You said you'd remove them. I need you to keep your word."

The words hung in the air, a test, a demand, and a fragile hope for a different kind of trust.

In-ho’s satisfied smile widened, a flash of something almost innocent in his dark eyes.

He tightened his arm around Gi-hun’s waist, pulling him closer against his bare chest. “I promise, jagiya,” he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble, the endearment a soft caress against Gi-hun’s ear. “Anything for you.”

Sleep overtook them both in a matter of seconds.

Gi-hun awoke the next morning to the unfamiliar quiet of the house, alone in the king-sized bed.

The space beside him was cool, the sheets undisturbed, as if In-ho had never been there.

A faint ache lingered in his lower back, a physical reminder of the night's intensity, but surprisingly, it wasn't unpleasant.

He lay there for a moment, listening, before pushing himself up.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor against his bare feet.

The bedroom was bathed in soft morning light filtering through the curtains, making the older man stretch his hands above his head.

He walked to the bathroom, the familiar scent of In-ho's soap lingering in the air.

He stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over him, a sense of quiet contemplation settling in.

After his shower, Gi-hun found a fresh set of clothes neatly folded on a small stool by the sink – a soft grey t-shirt and comfortable dark trousers.

More of In-ho’s unsettling thoughtfulness. He dressed, the fabric soft against his skin, and then, with a deep breath, he made his way to the kitchen.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and something savoury immediately greeted him.

In-ho stood at the counter, his back to Gi-hun, humming that same old familiar tune.

He turned at the sound of Gi-hun’s approach, a dazzling smile spreading across his face, his eyes bright and full of an almost childlike contentment.

“I made coffee. And don’t worry; I already took care of the baby. She’s fed and happy, sleeping soundly.”

‘Smells good.‘ Gi-hun said sniffing the air and taking a seat at the table next to In-ho.

‘Locally brewed’’ In-ho replied, taking a sip from his steaming cup.

‘Where from exactly?‘ Gi-hun looked at In-ho stubbornly, and the man huffed, amused. ''Hawaii''

Gi-hun groaned unamused and looked deadpanned in In-ho's eyes.

''You really have a serious obsession with islands, and I really hope you don't plan on starting something again, In-ho!''

''I left everything behind after blowing up the island. No one will look for us here, as I mentioned before. Trust me on that"

In-ho replied seriously and grabbed Gi-hun's hand giving it a kiss.

Gi-hun pulled his hand back gently, a flicker of unease in his eyes.

"Was there... any chance for me to escape from here, In-ho?" he asked, his voice low, almost a test.

In-ho's smile softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he shook his head.

"No, jagiya. Not a chance. While you were sleeping, I familiarised myself with the surrounding areas. It's quite isolated. And as for calling for help..." he paused, gesturing vaguely towards the wall phone.

"That's a landline, but it only receives calls. Making outgoing calls is almost impossible. The signal is quite bad out here. I gave it a try myself."

''So'' Gi-hun lowered his gaze to the table and dryly chuckled, ''Even if I wanted to kill you last night... No one would have helped us.''

In-ho’s dazzling smile didn’t falter, but his eyes, though still bright, gained a sharp, almost dangerous glint.

He set his coffee mug down with a soft click, his gaze unwavering as he met Gi-hun’s stare.

“No, jagiya,” he replied, his voice a low, confident murmur, laced with an unnerving calm. “No one would have helped you. No one would have even known.”

In-ho tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "How would you have done it, jagiya?" he asked, his voice soft, almost intrigued.

Gi-hun met his gaze, unflinching. "I would have choked you," he stated simply, his voice devoid of emotion, "after you fell asleep."

In-ho's smile widened, a dark, satisfied amusement playing on his lips. "And why didn't you, Gi-hun?"

Gi-hun sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "Because in the end, you're just a man, In-ho. Like me. Just... wrapped up in your own hatred and grief."

Gi-hun felt a strange, unsettling ripple of emotion at his own words.

He had meant them as a cold, analytical assessment, a way to distance himself from the man who held him captive.

Yet, as he looked at In-ho, a flicker of the previous night’s raw vulnerability returned to his mind.

The way In-ho had spoken of his lost family, his desperate desire for connection, the almost childlike joy when Gi-hun had given him a sliver of hope – it had resonated with something deep within Gi-hun himself, a shared human ache for belonging, however twisted In-ho’s expression of it might be.

He was still a monster, yes, but a monster born of pain, not pure malice. And Gi-hun, despite everything, had been touched by that glimpse of his broken humanity.

In-ho reached across the table, his hand gently covering Gi-hun's.

His thumb stroked Gi-hun's knuckles, a tender gesture that belied the chilling conversation they were having.

"We'll make it work, Gi-hun," he murmured, his voice soft, almost a plea. "As long as you're with me, we'll make it work and call this place ours.''

Notes:

Thank you for reading ^_^

Notes:

And if you'll see any mistakes. Don't be shy to PM me 😊 . I'll do my best to fix them
Thank you for being kind.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of My SG Ending