Archive of Our Own

“Welcome to your next game. This game will be played in pairs. You have ten minutes to select your partner. Please choose your partner and stand by one of the doors in front of you.”

Gi-hun frowns as he studies their surroundings.

The room they’re in is large but bare, with white walls and floors that look too pristine to be real. Across each wall is a line of green doors, each with a number on the front. It almost reminds Gi-hun of the previous game, and all he can see in his mind is a carousel in front of nauseating strobe lights, turning to the time of a haunting children’s rhyme.

He assumes that the room they’re currently in is just a holding room until they’ve paired up, and the true horrors of this game await them behind these closed doors.

The digital clock on the wall is already counting down, and people are busy scurrying around, frantically negotiating as they try to select the best partner. They have no idea what the game will be, but it’s clear that people are trying to pick a partner who ticks all the boxes - someone not too old but not too young, someone strong, someone clever, someone who could be fast on their feet -

“Gi-hun.” Jung-bae nudges his shoulder. “We should be partners.”

Gi-hun thinks of the last time he had to select a partner for a game without knowing what the game was. He can still feel the weight of the marbles in his hand sometimes.

It’s too dangerous to team up with Jung-bae. If they end up as opponents in this game, then only one of them will survive.

“I think we should split up,” Gi-hun says quietly.

“Really?” Jung-bae frowns. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” Gi-hun replies, not wanting to panic his friend. He was wrong about Dalgona, after all. “It might be nothing. But if it’s anything like one of the games I played last time, then we shouldn’t play together.”

Luckily, Dae-ho comes to his rescue.

“We should team up, sir,” he says excitedly to Jung-bae. “Two Marines will be unstoppable!”

Jung-bae looks at Gi-hun hesitantly, who offers him a reassuring smile.

“Go with Dae-ho, Jung-bae. I’ll find someone.”

Jung-bae still doesn’t look sure, but he turns to Dae-ho and shakes his hand.

Gi-hun glances around the crowd, trying to see if there is anyone who hasn’t yet got a partner. He still needs someone he can trust, just in case it isn’t an opponent game. Nearly everyone from his small group have already paired up, and for a moment he can’t remember if there’s an odd number of people here, which could mean he might be the only one left without a partner -

“Gi-hun.”

Young-il appears next to him, his smile easy and relaxed.

He’s the only person here who never seems worried or panicked. It makes Gi-hun feel a little more relaxed as well; a little more confident that they can face whatever is about to be thrown at them.

“If you haven’t found a partner yet,” Young-il says, sounding almost a little shy, “would you team up with me?”

Gi-hun stands in silence for a moment, feeling as though he’s back in high school and has been asked to the dance by the most popular boy in his class.

He’s not sure he’ll ever know how Young-il appears so calm just before every game, but he figures that having Young-il as his partner can only be advantageous. And if it does end up being an opponent game, then Gi-hun will just have to deal with that when the time comes. At least it’s not Jung-bae.

“Uh, yes,” Gi-hun says quickly when he realises he hasn’t replied. “Of course.”

He really hopes they aren’t going to be opponents in this game.

Gi-hun likes Young-il. From the moment Young-il stepped in to break up the fight with Player 230, Gi-hun has had a growing affection for him. Ever since the second vote, Young-il has earned his trust, and he’s come to think of the other man as someone he can rely on.

During the Six-Legged Pentathlon, Gi-hun had been glad to be chained to Young-il, despite the other man’s slip up with the spinning top. Young-il’s warm steady presence next to him had kept him focused, and kept him believing that they could win. And during Mingle, Gi-hun had felt heartened at Young-il’s selflessness when he had split off from their group to enable them to safely find a room in time.

Young-il gives Gi-hun hope. He gives Gi-hun hope that there are still good people in this place, that not everyone here will let others die for the sake of money. Young-il is someone worth saving, and he makes Gi-hun all the more determined to destroy this hellish place.

“What do you think the game will be?” Gi-hun asks, once again praying that they aren’t going to be opponents in this game.

Young-il shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s helpful for us to speculate at this point. Let’s pick a door before we’re stuck with whatever’s left.”

Gi-hun mouths good luck to Jung-bae before trailing after Young-il. They examine the row of doors together, but without knowing the game, there’s no way to tell if any particular door or number will be advantageous to them.

“What do you think?” Young-il asks. “Should we choose a number near the beginning or the end? Or somewhere in the middle?”

“Somewhere in the middle,” Gi-hun replies, his mind drifting to a row of mannequins in numbered pink vests.

The doors are numbered 1 to 50, and most of the doors in the middle have already been taken, but they manage to plant themselves by door number 34.

They wait in silence as the clock ticks down the last few minutes, and the final few pairs scurry over to the remaining doors.

“Your time is now up. Please step forward into your chosen room with your partner.”

The doors in front of them automatically unlock in unison, and people begin to enter the rooms in front of them. Gi-hun turns to look at Young-il, who gives him a reassuring smile, before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. Young-il follows him inside, and the door clicks shut behind them, locking automatically.

The room is small.

Pushed up against the length of one wall is a table with some objects lined up neatly in a row on top of it. In the middle of the room is a double bed. On the wall above the door is a digital clock, with a small speaker next to it. And just to the right of the clock and speaker is a camera in the corner, presumably filming them.

Gi-hun walks over to the table and frowns as he examines the objects sitting on it.

“What the hell,” he murmurs.

On the left hand side there is a box of tissues. On the right hand side there is a box of condoms and a small tube of lubricant. And in the middle -

“Is that…” Gi-hun swallows. “Uh.”

Young-il simply stares at the object with a blank expression on his face.

In the middle of the table is a large pink dildo.

“What the fuck,” Gi-hun says. “I thought we were playing kids’ games?”

This isn’t right. This can’t be real. Even for the people who run these games, even for the VIPs Jun-ho talked about, this is sick.

Clearly the kind of games they’ve been playing so far haven’t proved entertaining enough.

“Attention players. The next game will be played in four rounds. You must pass each round to progress to the next. For the first round, you must kiss your partner continuously for two minutes. You have one minute to remove all your clothes, and then the game will begin.”

The clock on the wall beeps to life and starts to count down from sixty seconds.

“What the fuck,” Gi-hun says again, starting to panic. “We’re supposed to be playing kids’ games. And why do we have to take off our clothes? This makes no sense.”

If the first round is simply to kiss for two minutes, he dreads to think what the other rounds will entail as he stares at the objects on the table.

“Gi-hun.”

Young-il is already unzipping his hoodie and toeing off his shoes.

Gi-hun just stands there, mouth open, too shocked to move.

“Gi-hun. Come on, they’re watching. We have to do this if we want to live.”

A glance at the clock reminds him of what is at stake. Gi-hun nods, reaching for the zipper of his hoodie with shaking fingers.

“Don’t think about what’s on the table,” Young-il says calmly, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “Don’t think about the other rounds or what we might have to do next. Just focus on what we have to do now. It’s just kissing. We can do that, right?”

“We can do that,” Gi-hun confirms, wriggling out of his tracksuit pants clumsily. “But…your wife -“

“She’s dead.”

Young-il says it in such a matter of fact tone, as if he’s said it a thousand times before.

Gi-hun freezes. “What?”

“My wife.” Young-il is down to his underwear now as he kicks aside his tracksuit pants. “I told you she was dying. But I…twisted the truth a little. She’s actually already dead. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m in here because of my debts, just like everyone else. Debts for my wife’s hospital bills. But I thought if I told you my wife was dying…if you thought I was trying to save her…it might make you hate me a little bit less. For pressing the O button.”

For the first time since they met, Young-il looks vulnerable. His voice is quiet and full of regret, and he suddenly looks a lot smaller standing there in his underwear.

“I’m sorry, Gi-hun,” Young-il says, his voice shaking a little. “Please forgive me. I failed my wife. I don’t want to fail you. I just want to get through this game with you.”

“It’s okay,” Gi-hun says softly. “I understand.” He glances at the clock again. “We can talk about this later. Let’s just…”

He forgoes any sense of modesty as he pulls his underwear down his thighs, respectfully averting his eyes as Young-il does the same.

It’s only once they’re fully nude that they take each other in.

Young-il is stunning. There’s no other way to describe him. He must be around Gi-hun’s age, perhaps a year or two younger, and yet his body lacks the soft curves and flabby skin of middle age. He’s hard muscle and chiseled planes, and even though Gi-hun tries to keep his eyes above the waist, he can’t help but glance at Young-il’s thick cock, nestled in a thatch of dark hair between his legs.

Gi-hun would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about how handsome Young-il is, but seeing the other man laid bare before him is enough to make his head spin.

He feels distinctly inadequate standing naked opposite a man like this.

“Gi-hun,” Young-il says softly, his eyes roaming over Gi-hun’s body as if reading his mind. “You’re beautiful. I’m glad I chose you for this task.”

The clock reaches zero, and Gi-hun can feel his whole body blushing.

“The first round will now begin. Let me repeat: you must kiss your partner continuously for two minutes.”

The clock resets to two minutes, and once the countdown begins they are in each other’s arms as if they are two men who are about to die.

Their lives depend on it after all.

They press their lips together at the same time, meeting in the middle.

It’s been a long time since Gi-hun has kissed anyone. He isn’t sure about Young-il, now that it seems his wife is no longer alive, but the other man is a good kisser. Young-il takes the lead, guiding the kiss with confidence, moving their lips together gently and seemingly unbothered by the sound of the clock counting down behind them.

Gi-hun isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, but as Young-il has settled his hands on Gi-hun’s hips, he decides to wrap his arms around Young-il’s middle, which just seems a bit awkward, so instead he places his hands on the other man’s shoulders. He is very conscious of the fact they are naked and almost pressed up against each other. To his shame, he is becoming aroused.

But Young-il seems to be determined to keep the whole thing as respectful as possible, keeping an inch between them, not using his tongue, and keeping strictly to the letter of the instructions they’ve been given by doing nothing more than kissing.

If Gi-hun is being honest with himself, he has already imagined doing this with Young-il.

The kissing, that is. Maybe not the naked park.

Okay, maybe the naked part too.

But he had definitely imagined doing this in a slightly more relaxed environment, where the attraction was mutual, and where they weren’t just kissing because it was part of the game.

When the clock reaches zero and the horn announcing the end of the round sounds, Gi-hun almost feels disappointed when Young-il pulls away. He’s not disappointed, however, to see that Young-il looks just as affected by this as Gi-hun is; his lips are swollen, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, and his cock is hard against his stomach.

Gi-hun is hard as well; not quite as hard as Young-il, but his cock is definitely standing to attention, and Young-il seems to notice. He smiles shyly, and only then drops his hands from Gi-hun’s waist.

“Are you alright?” Young-il asks softly. “Was it too much?”

“No,” Gi-hun replies immediately. “I mean, yes, I’m alright. No, it wasn’t too much. That was, uh, good. You’re a good kisser. I mean, considering the circumstances. Not that I think you wouldn’t be a good kisser under normal circumstances! I mean…ugh. Are you okay?”

Young-il laughs, easy and relaxed as always.

“Yes. I’m okay.” He pauses, as if he’s listening for something. “I can’t hear any gunshots. Maybe that means everyone survived this round?”

Gi-hun nods. That would make sense. He suddenly thinks of Jung-bae and Dae-ho. He’s glad they’re together, and he hopes they’re able to get through this.

Before they can say anything else, the speaker on the wall blares to life again.

“For the second round of the game, each player must make their partner orgasm using only their hands. You have five minutes.”

Five minutes?

Gi-hun is fifty years old and can barely bring himself to orgasm in five minutes, let alone another person who he’s never touched before, whose body he doesn’t know -

“Gi-hun.”

Young-il’s authoritative voice interrupts his thoughts. It’s then that Gi-hun realises the clock has already started counting down again.

“We don’t have much time,” Young-il says. “Why don’t we do each other at the same time?”

Do each other at the same time.

If Gi-hun weren’t so nervous, he would probably come right there and then from those words alone.

“Right,” Gi-hun nods. “Makes sense.”

“Here.” Young-il takes his hand and tugs him towards the bed. “We can sit next to each other up against the headboard. It might be the easiest angle so we don’t get in each other’s way.”

Young-il is so calm and decisive, seemingly unfazed, as if he’s tackled a scenario just like this before. Within just a few seconds he’s already been able to choreograph how they should respond, whereas Gi-hun’s brain seems to have turned to jelly, and Gi-hun thanks his lucky stars that Young-il chose him for this game.

Gi-hun settles himself with his back against the headboard of the bed, right next to Young-il so that their thighs are touching. He tries to ignore the countdown; his cock is already starting to soften. As attractive as Young-il may be, this is a lot of pressure.

“Hey,” Young-il says softly, his eyes lingering briefly on Gi-hun’s wilting erection. “If you don’t want to do this, just say the word.”

Gi-hun frowns. “But we’ll die.”

“I know.” Young-il smiles tiredly. “But I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to. If you want to do this, then I’ll do it. I’ll do anything they tell us. But if you don’t want it, I’m not going to force you. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that to you.”

Gi-hun feels something warm bubble in his chest.

Young-il would rather die than touch him without his consent.

“I want you to,” Gi-hun says. “Am I okay to…?”

Young-il nods. “Please.”

Gi-hun’s hand hovers over Young-il’s cock uncertainly, the seconds slowly ticking away on the clock.

“Here.” Young-il confidently wraps his hand around Gi-hun’s length. “Match my rhythm. And just tell me if it’s too much or if you don’t like it.”

Gi-hun lets out a little gasp as Young-il begins to move his hand, and he can feel himself start to harden again already. He reaches over to take Young-il in his own hand, and he takes a deep breath as he tries to follow the same pace that Young-il is setting.

If they were anywhere else, Gi-hun is sure he would have come immediately. His nerve endings are on fire; Young-il’s hand is warm and just the right amount of rough, rubbing up and down against his cock in a way that makes his toes curl with pleasure. Gi-hun tries his best to mimic it, but there’s no way he can be doing this as well as Young-il.

He’s encouraged though by the little breathy moans that Young-il is letting out. The other man’s thigh is warm against his own, and when Gi-hun allows himself to look Young-il in the eye, the atmosphere shifts.

Suddenly it’s electric, pure energy buzzing between them as they increase the pace. They can do this; Gi-hun knows they can. He strokes quickly, squeezing Young-il’s cock gently and wishing he could kiss the other man again.

Gi-hun must be doing something right, because Young-il is the first to climax. The other man stiffens as he lets out a grunt and a moan, and then he’s spilling over Gi-hun’s hand.

Young-il allows himself only a moment to recover before picking up the pace with Gi-hun.

“Are you close?”

Gi-hun makes the mistake of glancing up at the clock.

One minute and twenty eight seconds.

“I, um.” Gi-hun swallows. “Maybe.”

Young-il slows the pace a little, rubbing his thumb over the head of Gi-hun’s cock. He leans in close to murmur in Gi-hun’s ear.

“You can do it, Gi-hun. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so good. Come on, almost there.”

Gi-hun is whimpering pathetically now, the praise dripping through him like warm syrup. The thought of pleasing Young-il is incredibly arousing, and it only takes Young-il whispering you’re so good a few more times before Gi-hun feels that familiar heat building in his belly, and he arches his back and comes.

His breathing is heavy as he comes down from the high of his orgasm, the clock stopping at zero only a few seconds later.

A moment passes, and then there is the faint sound of screaming and gunshots.

Gi-hun squeezes his eyes shut, and buries his face in Young-il’s shoulder. Young-il automatically wraps an arm around him, holding him close, and the comforting action feels far too intimate, even in comparison to what they just did.

Gi-hun tries not to think about who might not have survived this round. He hopes Jung-bae is still alright.

Young-il goes to reach for the tissues on the table, but Gi-hun grabs his wrist.

“We don’t know if it’s allowed,” Gi-hun murmurs quietly. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

Young-il nods, and so they remain seated on the bed next to each other, covered in stickiness.

For the first time ever, Gi-hun almost wants to hear the woman’s voice chirping through the speaker to give them their next instructions. He pulls his knees to his chest, feeling slightly awkward.

Young-il nudges him gently.

“I meant what I said earlier. If there’s any point where you don’t want to do something, you just say the word. I promise you I’ll stop if you want to, Gi-hun.”

He really is handsome. There’s a softness to his face now that wasn’t there before, as if he’s been hiding a part of himself that he’s finally allowed someone else to see. Gi-hun can’t quite out his finger on it, but he thinks it makes Young-il look even more beautiful.

“Same here.” Gi-hun says softly. “I’m willing to stop if there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

They share a small smile.

The moment is over though when the speaker crackles to life again, and Gi-hun’s heart sinks.

“Attention, players. For the third round of the game, each player must make their partner orgasm using only their mouth. Please feel free to use the condoms and tissues on the table if you wish. You have ten minutes.”

Gi-hun’s eyes widen.

How the hell is he supposed to come just ten minutes after an orgasm? They’ve not been given any break at all. He would have struggled with this even as a young man.

“Hey.” Young-il squeezes his arm as he reaches for the tissues with one hand. “You still with me?”

Gi-hun nods, biting his lip nervously as Young-il hands him some tissues. He dabs at himself, cleaning up as much mess as he can as he wonders how the hell he’s going to do this. Young-il must surely be thinking the same thing; at their age, this is not going to be easy.

The clock begins the countdown.

“Ten minutes,” Gi-hun says, his voice full of despair. “I’m not sure I can…I’m not sure it will be possible.”

At this point, he doesn’t particularly care whether he lives or dies. He’s come so close to death so many times, and he hasn’t seen his daughter in so long that it probably wouldn’t make much difference to her. But he does care about ending the games so that nobody else has to suffer, and he can’t do that if he’s dead.

And he does care whether Young-il lives or dies.

“Gi-hun.” Young-il places his hand on Gi-hun’s bare knee. “We can do this. We will do this. We are going to do this together, alright?”

Young-il makes it sound so easy.

“Yeah,” Gi-hun agrees, determined to stay optimistic because he really has no choice. “We can do this.” He glances at the clock. “Uh, do you want to go first, or…?”

“How about we do it together again? To save us some time.”

Gi-hun frowns in confusion. “How would we…how would we do that at the same time?”

Young-il clears his throat, and for the first time since the game began, he actually looks a little embarrassed.

“You know. Sixty nine,” he says in English.

Gi-hun can feel himself turning red, slightly ashamed at his naivety. He’s never tried that particular position before. He also realises that he’s been so worried about whether he’ll be able to orgasm in ten minutes, he hasn’t even thought about whether he’ll actually manage to make Young-il come in that time.

“Right.” He nods, trying to push all that from his mind. “Okay. You’ll have to…tell me what to do.”

“Don’t worry, it’s easy. It just requires a bit of co-ordination. You’re taller than me so you go on the bottom, and I’ll go on top of you. Lie down.”

Gi-hun does as he’s told, stretching himself across the length of the bed and settling his head on the pillow.

“Would you prefer me to wear a condom?” Young-il asks over his shoulder as he straddles Gi-hun’s chest with his back facing the other man. “I don’t mind if you wear one or not.”

“If I wear a condom, I might not manage to…” Gi-hun swallows as he trails off. “You don’t need to wear one for me either.”

“Okay then. No condoms.” Young-il flashes him a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “Ready?”

From this angle, Gi-hun has a good view of the top of Young-il’s ass. But he can’t allow himself to get distracted. Time is of the essence.

“Ready,” Gi-hun confirms.

They’re down to eight and a half minutes.

Young-il shuffles backwards and lifts his hips, positioning himself on his hands and knees. As long as Gi-hun lives, he doesn’t think he will ever forget the sight of Young-il’s ass above him. If he does die at the end of this round, at least he’ll have an amazing view.

He lets out a gasp when he feels a warm tongue lick up the underside of his cock.

Right. He’s got a job to do.

He reaches up for Young-il’s cock as the other man lowers his hips, taking just a moment to admire it, before hesitantly wrapping his lips around it.

It’s been a while since he’s done this. But he likes to think he’s not half bad at this; the loan sharks had certainly never complained whenever he’d offered this to them to bring down some of his debt. It’s not an act he’s ever really particularly enjoyed, but he has to admit that even in the pressurised situation they’re in, he’s getting a certain thrill from this.    

Young-il tastes good. He tastes clean, fresh, despite what they’d been doing earlier. His cock is hot and heavy in Gi-hun’s mouth, and it makes Gi-hun’s jaw ache in a way that’s almost pleasant. He takes Young-il right to the root, burying his nose in dark pubic hair.

Giving and receiving pleasure at the same time is not an easy task, so Gi-hun really has to concentrate on the job at hand. His toes curl as Young-il begins to bob his head up and down; it’s clear that he’s somewhat experienced with this.

Gi-hun decides to use the same strategy as the last round and match Young-il’s rhythm. He bobs his head in time with Young-il, and is pleased when he hears the other man moan around his cock. It sends pleasant little tingles across his skin, and he almost wishes they were positioned slightly differently so that he could reach down and thread his fingers through Young-il’s hair.

Gi-hun is tempted to reach up and cup Young-il’s balls just to see what other noises he can elicit from the other man, but the thought strikes him again that it may be seen as breaking the rules, and the last thing he wants to do is disqualify them.

He has no idea how much time is left on the clock when he feels the warmth start to build in his belly again. He can’t quite believe that he’s made it to this point, but then Young-il is so good. If Gi-hun’s mouth wasn’t full, he would tell Young-il just how good he is.

Embarrassingly, Gi-hun is the first to climax.

He lets out a low moan as he spills into Young-il’s mouth, and he’s slightly mortified that he didn’t think to warn the other man. He allows himself only a few seconds to enjoy his orgasm, before sucking Young-il with all the enthusiasm he can muster, gagging a little as the other man’s cock hits the back of his throat -

Young-il comes with Gi-hun’s name on his lips, and Gi-hun feels quite proud as he swallows Young-il’s seed, trying not to choke.

They lie there for a moment, still in position and panting, until the clock beeps about thirty seconds later.

“What did I tell you?” Young-il says with a smile against Gi-hun’s thigh. “I knew we could do it.”

Gi-hun chuckles tiredly. “I bet we put some of the youngsters to shame.”

He freezes as he hears gunshots, some in the distance, and some close by.

He frowns as Young-il climbs off him, and offers him some more tissues to clean up.

“I hate this game,” Gi-hun says miserably as he wipes himself.

Young-il raises an eyebrow.

“Not because of you,” Gi-hun adds quickly. “You’re…you’re amazing at all of this. And I’m really glad I have you by my side for this. And obviously I hate all the games. But this…I just hate how they’ve taken something that’s meant to be special, something that could be really good, and just made a mockery of it.”

“I understand.” Young-il gives that shy smile again. “I’m not really a casual sex kind of guy. I’m kind of trying to detach myself a bit here. It’s a shame because perhaps under different circumstances…well.” He chuckles. “Perhaps we’d be in a proper bed with proper sheets. And with no damn countdown making us rush things.”

Gi-hun feels like a schoolboy with butterflies in his stomach.

“Maybe when we get out of here,” Gi-hun says, suddenly feeling bold.

Young-il just smiles at him.

Gi-hun can’t help but think in that moment that there seems to be nothing these games can’t corrupt. Desperate people in dire circumstances, children’s games, sex. When he returned to the games, it had never crossed his mind that sex would be tainted for him.

He has underestimated just how evil these people can be.

“Attention, players.”

Gi-hun feels his stomach sink. They still have to get through another round of this, and still there is no respite.

“For the final round, each player must make their partner orgasm by penetrating them. You may use the aid on the table or any part of your own anatomy. Please feel free to use the condoms and tissues on the table if you wish. You have thirty minutes.”

Gi-hun feels as though he might burst into tears.

He’s been lucky to manage two orgasms in such a short space of time. A third is out of the question. He’s exhausted and overstimulated, and he’s going to get Young-il killed.

The red numbers on the digital clock reset to 30:00, and then the countdown begins.

He lets out a guttural scream, banging his fists on the mattress before grabbing one of his shoes off the floor and throwing it in the direction of the clock. It hits the clock and bounces off, dropping to the floor pathetically, leaving behind no crack or dent.

He can’t do this. He can’t do this he can’t do this he can’t do this -

“Gi-hun.” A warm hand on his knee. “Look at me.”

Gi-hun feels pathetic. His eyes are actually stinging with unshed tears.

He came here to end the games, and now he’s going to die because he couldn’t get another hard on. And he’s going to get Young-il killed too.

A warm hand cups his chin and tilts his face up so that his eyes meet Young-il’s.

“I’m sorry,” Gi-hun whispers shakily. “I can’t do this. I’m fifty years old - there’s no way I can do this.”

“If you don’t want to do this, then of course I’m not going to make you.” Young-il’s thumb swipes across Gi-hun’s cheekbone, catching a rogue tear that has managed to escape. “But don’t give up just because you think you can’t do this. Think of all the things you’ve done in these games to keep yourself alive. You’re a winner. You’re a survivor. I believe in you, Gi-hun.”

Gi-hun shakes his head, sniffing. Young-il’s kindness is almost painful.

“Come on, none of that now.” Young-il wraps his arms around the other man, stroking his hair gently. “Deep breaths with me. That’s it. We can do this, Gi-hun. I know we can.”

Gi-hun offers a shaky smile.

“You seem so sure.”

Young-il gives him that confident grin again. He cups Gi-hun’s face in one hand and leans in close, as if he’s going to kiss Gi-hun again, but instead he whispers in a low voice.

“I will make you come again. I promise you.”

The words almost make Gi-hun tremble a little.

“Do you trust me?” Young-il asks.

Gi-hun nods. He does trust Young-il. And having seen his performance so far, he definitely trusts him with this.

They have to try.

“We won’t be able to do this at the same time,” Gi-hun jokes, laughing nervously.

“No,” Young-il laughs. “We won’t. If it helps, you could do me first? And you could use the, uh, toy on me. To give yourself a bit of time.”

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds like a good strategy.” Gi-hun glances at the clock. “Do you want to, er, lie down? Or…?”

Young-il makes himself comfortable on the bed, lying down on his back and planting his feet on the mattress, opening his knees to give Gi-hun access to everything he needs. He makes something that should be humiliating look as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Once again, Gi-hun feels a sense of longing for an entirely different setting tugging at his heart.

“You need to tell me if I hurt you,” Gi-hun says nervously, grabbing the toy and the lube from the table and settling himself between Young-il’s legs. “I’ll try and prep you as much as I can.”

“Don’t worry too much about the prep. I’m normally fine after three fingers but I think I can take it after two.”

Gi-hun frowns as he uncaps the lube and squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers. He rubs his fingers together to warm it up as much as possible.

“Two? Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like enough to me.”

“We don’t have much time. Really, Gi-hun, I’ll be fine. I can take it. Work as fast you can.”

Gi-hun does his best. He massages Young-il’s entrance gently with the tip of his finger for a few seconds before dipping inside, moving gently in and out, stretching as much as he can. Young-il grunts occasionally, but otherwise seems okay.

“Put another one in,” Young-il instructs.

Gi-hun obeys, scissoring two fingers gently inside the other man. He’s warm and tight, and Gi-hun is surprised that he can already feel his cock beginning to stir. It only takes a minute or so of fumbling for Gi-hun to find Young-il’s sweet spot, and he feels quite proud of himself when he sees the way Young-il sighs and arches his back.

If they didn’t have a time limit, Gi-hun thinks he could finger Young-il forever.

But the clock is ticking.

“I’m ready,” Young-il says firmly. “I can take it.”

Gi-hun pauses, hesitating. “Are you sure? Two fingers really doesn’t seem enough. You’re still very…tight.”

“We don’t have much time. I’ll be fine, Gi-hun. Please.”

Gi-hun knows that Young-il is only saying please because they’re running out of time and he wants Gi-hun to hurry. But maybe Gi-hun can pretend Young-il is begging him; maybe he can pretend Young-il is saying please because he wants this.

Gi-hun gently removes his fingers and coats the dildo in as much lube as he can, stroking it a few times to spread the liquid evenly, and he ignores the ticking countdown as he positions it at Young-il’s entrance.

“Okay?” Gi-hun asks. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Young-il nods, closing his eyes.

There’s a bit of resistance at first. Gi-hun twists and pushes as gently as he can, nudging the toy inside of the other man. Young-il is tense, and he’s breathing deeply.

“I could give you another finger,” Gi-hun offers.

“No. There’s no time. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he’s gripping the sheets with his eyes squeezed shut. They haven’t had enough time to prep, and Gi-hun knows that Young-il is the kind of man who will want to power through - the kind of man who will say he’s okay when he’s really not.

But Young-il is right; there is no time. A quick glance at the clock reveals that they’re almost halfway through this round.

Gi-hun knows this is not going to be the most comfortable experience for Young-il, so all he can do is comfort him. He uses his free hand to reach over and lace his fingers with Young-il’s. His heart flutters when Young-il squeezes his hand.

“Deep breaths,” Gi-hun says softly. “And try to push out as I push in. It might help.”

He nudges a little further, and this time there is not quite as much resistance.

“That’s great,” Gi-hun praises. “You’re doing great.”

He manages to get the toy all the way in, and he gives Young-il just a few seconds to adjust, before pulling it out gently again, and then pushing back in. Young-il lets out a little gasp when it hits his sweet spot again, so Gi-hun tries to maintain that angle as he starts to build a rhythm.

He thrusts the toy in and out, squeezing Young-il’s hand at the same time, and muttering as much praise as he can. Young-il’s eyes are still closed, and Gi-hun wonders what he’s thinking about to get himself to the edge.

Maybe his late wife.

Gi-hun wishes there was something else he could do. He wonders if kissing would help, but then he’s not sure if it would be permitted within the rules. He doesn’t want to jeoperdise this.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he says softly.

Young-il stiffens, grunts, and comes all over his stomach.

Oh.

Gi-hun freezes for just a moment, blushing as Young-il finally opens his eyes.

Young-il looks as though he wants to say something, but then he’s glancing at the clock.

If only they had just a moment to themselves. Gi-hun would do anything for a moment just to check Young-il is alright, to hold him, to let him know how amazing he is. But they don’t have that luxury.

“Okay, your turn,” Young-il says a little breathlessly, reaching for the tissues to clean himself.

Gi-hun nods, removing the toy gently. He’s half hard at least.

They quickly swap positions; Gi-hun lies down on the bed and plants his feet on the mattress, spreading his legs.

“Do you want me to clean this?” Young-il asks, gesturing at the toy. “Or…?”

“I’d rather not have that inside me,” Gi-hun says quietly. “Do you think you might be able to…?”

He nods towards Young-il’s spent cock. He’s never really used sex toys before, and he’s almost certain his best chance of an orgasm would be with Young-il’s cock. But he can tell Young-il is exhausted, and he doesn’t feel too hopeful.

“I need a few minutes, but I think I can,” Young-il says.

Gi-hun gives him a grateful smile. It suddenly occurs to him that all his smiles since returning to this place have been for Young-il.

“Great.” Gi-hun says nervously. “I’d rather have you.”

Young-il’s eyes seem to darken at that, and Gi-hun isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, but he swears he almost sees Young-il’s cock twitch back to life.

From that moment, Young-il is like a man on a mission.

Where Gi-hun was awkward and unsure, Young-il is confident and methodical. He coats his fingers with lube and inserts one inside of Gi-hun with ease. It’s not completely free of discomfort, but Gi-hun is surprisingly relaxed.

He’s in good hands with Young-il. Young-il will take care of him.

He tries to focus on Young-il as the other man fingers him open. Young-il’s eyes, his handsome face, his strong jaw, his broad shoulders, the muscles in his arms -

Gi-hun can feel himself opening for Young-il. Young-il is so thorough, his fingers bumping up against the bundle of nerves inside him and making warmth flood his stomach.

It’s then that he notices Young-il is using his free hand to stroke himself.

Gi-hun glances at the clock.

Six minutes.

He doesn’t know how many fingers are inside him, but he wants more.

“Young-il,” he says, voice thick. “Do you think you can…?”

Young-il’s pupils are blown wide.

“Yes. Are you ready?”

Gi-hun opens his legs wider in response. He opens himself for Young-il.

The fingers quickly disappear from inside him, but he’s only empty for a moment.

Young-il’s cock is so much thicker, but the gentle burn as he pushes himself inside Gi-hun feels so good. It feels good to be so full; to be so full of this man in particular.

Young-il leans down to press their foreheads together as he gives one big push, bottoming out inside of Gi-hun. Their lips are so close they could kiss, but instead of touching their breath just mingles.

For the first time in this game, Gi-hun is suddenly aware of the camera watching them.

He wonders if the masked man is up there somewhere watching them.

“Don’t look at the camera,” Young-il says breathlessly when he notices where Gi-hun’s gaze is. “Look at me.”

Gi-bun obeys, and he lets out a little gasp as Young-il starts to move.

It’s been a long time since Gi-hun has done this, but he doesn’t remember it feeling like this. He can’t remember any man making him feel as though pleasure is coursing through his veins; he can’t remember any man making him want to moan like a whore.

Young-il’s cock snaps back and forth in a perfect rhythm, their sweaty skin sliding against each other. The bed creaks beneath them; Young-il is fucking him so vigorously that they’re almost bouncing on top of the mattress. Gi-hun’s cock is trapped between them, the friction almost a little overstimulating.

“Young-il,” Gi-hun sighs, squeezing his thighs around Young-il’s hips and locking his ankles around the small of his back.

He wraps his arms around the other man, holding him close.

“I’m almost there,” Gi-hun says, his voice trembling.

The timer is down to one minute and fifty seconds.

“You’re doing great,” Young-il whispers in his ear. “You’re doing so well, Gi-hun.”

He grabs Gi-hun’s hands and pins them above his head on the bed, interlocking their fingers.

“Fuck me,” Gi-hun pleads.

Young-il pistons his hips, and Gi-hun climaxes just as the clock reaches fifteen seconds, his vision going white.

He’s breathing as if he’s run a marathon. His muscles are jelly and his mind is blank. Any coherent thoughts have been fucked out of him.

Young-il is still inside him, breathing heavily as well. When the clock reaches zero, he leans down to kiss Gi-hun, and the beating of their hearts drowns out the sound of gunshots.

Gi-hun can feel tears stinging his eyes as they part, wondering if Jung-bae is one of the people on the receiving end of one of those gunshots. He tries to push his friend from his mind for now; there’s no use worrying until they get out of here.

“Are you okay?” Young-il asks quietly. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” Gi-hun replies with a tired smile. “A little sore, but I’m not in pain or anything.”

Young-il pulls out of him gently, and collapses on the bed beside him.

“Attention, players. Please remain in your rooms until we have cleaned up the arena. Thank you for your patience.”

Gi-hun sighs and sits up with a weary groan, but Young-il grabs his wrist.

“Wait a minute,” he says. “Come here.”

And then he pulls Gi-hun back down to lie beside him, shuffling right next to him and wrapping his arms around him.

Gi-hun smiles at him and raises an eyebrow.

“Just want to make sure you don’t hate me after all that,” Young-il explains, half-jokingly.

Gi-hun laces their fingers together again.

“To be honest, I think all that has made me like you more.”

Young-il’s smile is so bright that Gi-hun actually laughs. It’s a different smile as well, a smile that really reaches his eyes. It’s almost like a different persona he’s been hiding which he’s only been willing to show in a moment of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Young-il says softly.

Gi-hun frowns, almost unsure of what he’s talking about.

“Oh! About your wife? Oh, it’s okay. I understand. I’m sure everyone in here is lying about something.”

Young-il nods, quiet and reflective.

By the time the buzzer sounds and the chirpy announcer tells them that they can now leave the room and head back to their quarters, Gi-hun is almost a little reluctant to leave Young-il’s arms.

They clean themselves in silence and pull on their tracksuits, and as they leave the room Gi-hun can’t help but think it all feels different now. He feels as though he’s almost a different person walking out of this room, and he senses the same about Young-il.

They filter out of the door and join the line of players heading back to the dormitory.

Gi-hun cranes his neck, desperately searching the faces around him for Jung-bae and anyone else he can recognise. The only people from their group he can see are 120 and 246, who are walking together just ahead of them, talking quietly. He’s glad they’ve survived at least; they’re both good people with kind hearts.

When they reach their quarters, the first thing Gi-hun does is glance up at the board to see how many players are left. The board still reads 100, which means it hasn’t been updated yet. As people file in, he attempts to try and do a rough count, and he estimates that over half of them must have survived.

He trails after Young-il to their corner of the room, and his eyes light up when he sees Jung-bae and Dae-ho sitting on one of the bunks together.

“Jung-bae!”

Gi-hun rushes over, relief flooding through him.

Jung-bae gives him a tired smile, and it’s then that he notices that Jung-bae and Dae-ho are holding hands. Dae-ho’s cheeks are wet, and he’s almost curled up against Jung-bae’s side. The older man has a protective arm around him, and Gi-hun almost feels as though he’s interrupting a private moment.

“Glad to see you two made it,” Jung-bae says, giving Young-il a nod. “What a fucked up game, huh?”

Gi-hun rubs the back of his neck. “Just when I thought the people who run this thing couldn’t get any sicker…”

Jung-bae stares at Young-il for a moment, before turning back to Gi-hun.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

Gi-hun nods, watching Jung-bae whisper something in Dae-ho’s ear before leading Gi-hun over to a spare bunk. He keeps one eye on Young-il, who has taken his seat next to Dae-ho on the bed, albeit not quite so close.

“Did he hurt you?” Jung-bae demands as soon as they’re out of earshot.

“Who?” Gi-hun frowns. “Young-il?”

Jung-bae just looks at him, as if there’s something he wants to say but he just can’t bring himself to say it.

“No. Young-il didn’t hurt me. He was…good. In fact, he said he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to. He was willing to die to avoid putting me through that.”

Jung-bae’s expression is difficult to read, as if he’s still making his mind up about something.

“Well, I’m glad you’re still here.”

“How are you doing? How’s Dae-ho?”

“I’m fine. I think that whole experience nearly gave me a heart attack, but I’m okay. Dae-ho did really well. I think he’s a bit traumatised by having to do all that with an old goat like me, but he hid it well. Called me handsome.”

Jung-bae smiles with pride at that.

Gi-hun hugs him, glad that they’ve survived another day.

“Be careful,” Jung-bae murmurs when they walk back over to their bunks. “I still don’t fully trust him.”

Gi-hun has no idea why his friend doesn’t trust Young-il, but he puts it to the back of his mind as Young-il smiles at him.

His heart is fluttering in his chest as he sits next to Young-il, their thighs touching. They listen to the hum of people filtering into the room and rejoining their groups, and it’s in that moment that Gi-hun decides they have to do something.

Nobody should ever have to go through what they all went through today. Nobody should have to go through any of these games ever again.

“Home soon,” Young-il says softly, squeezing Gi-hun’s knee.

“Home soon,” Gi-hun agrees confidently, a plan forming in his mind.

END