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Seong Gi-hun turned to look over his shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time that night. His body was full of tension, hands in his pockets clutching onto the blades he always kept on him. He didn’t know what it was about tonight, but he felt as though there were eyes on him everywhere.
The street he was walking on was deserted with only the humming from the street lights as company. His destination should be around the corner and yet a sense of dread accompanied his every step, his breath fogging up in front of him with every strangled exhale. If he didn’t get alcohol in him right now, he might just pop a blood vessel all on his own.
Finally, reaching the last right turn to the dingy bar, Gi-hun felt some tension bleed out of him. He’d be in a public space with witnesses soon. Light flashed onto the damp sidewalk from the small establishment and as Gi-hun pulled the door open, he observed only a few people sitting at tables scattered around the room.
He walked in and immediately made his way to the bar, taking a seat on one of the tall wooden stools. The bartender, a short, friendly-faced man, came up to take his order and backed away with apprehension in his eyes. Gi-hun must look like more of a mess than he originally thought.
Even now, in a room full of other people who probably wouldn’t hurt him, he could feel his shoulders bunched up to his ears, his fists clenched on the bar’s surface.
“You alright?” a voice came from his left. Despite being so pent-up, Gi-hun was still startled at the sudden presence. He shakily turned his head to look at the man who had joined him.
A middle-aged man, around the same age as Gi-hun himself, with a confident smile stared back at him. His brown eyes were soft, searching, and full of curiosity as he waited for Gi-hun’s response.
Gi-hun found himself unable to maintain the intense eye contact and looked back down at the glazed wood beneath his fists. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” the man inquired, leaning down to try and catch his eye. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not-” Gi-hun immediately retorted, only to find that he was indeed trembling, quite violently at that. He chanced a glance back at the man before scoffing. “I just need a drink and I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” he replied and Gi-hun prepared for silence. The man, however, simply settled onto the stool right next to Gi-hun, signaling to the bartender. “Double whatever he ordered. It’s on me.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Gi-hun asked, incredulity and wonder fighting for dominance in his mind.
“Paying for your drinks?” the man answered, false innocence playing in his tone. “You look like you need it.”
“I can pay for my own damn drinks.”
The man lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture but his smirk only irritated Gi-hun even more. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
Gi-hun sighed at that and pressed his pointer finger and thumb to the junction between his eyes to quell the headache forming there. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
He was going to make him say it, huh? It was the least he deserved, he guessed. “For being an asshole.” Gi-hun turned to the man. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving a dismissive hand in front of him. “My name is In-ho. Hwang In-ho.”
“I’m Seong Gi-hun,” he reluctantly answered.
“Seong,” In-ho repeated before bursting out in laughter. His smile was radiant in the drab lighting of the space, he found himself thinking.
Gi-hun stared at him in shock before snapping out of it. Looking at the menu hanging on the wall instead of his amused expression. “What’s funny?”
“Your last name is last name,” he explained, still chuckling at his own joke.
Gi-hun gave a sympathetic laugh at the apparent pun. “Yeah. I suppose it is.”
It was then that the bartender placed Gi-hun’s drinks in front of him. In-ho quickly pulled out his wallet and slammed the bills on the counter before he could even blink. “Oh, you were serious then?”
“Yes,” In-ho said. “Of course I was. I don’t like lying.”
“Hmm,” he replied. Gi-hun didn’t know what to make of him. Here he was, his scraggly hair in a worn-out cap, sweaty, and pale being approached by a man in black Oxford shoes, tailored pants, and a pale blue button-up. “Why did you approach me?”
In-ho settled his elbow on the counter, moving closer to Gi-hun as he chugged down his first drink. “You caught my interest.”
Gi-hun gave an empty chuckle at that, staring down at his glossy reflection in the drink. “Old, trembling men interest you?”
“No,” In-ho leaned even closer and Gi-hun suddenly felt trapped in his gaze. “Old, attractive men who seem to need help letting loose interest me.”
“I- uh. I don’t sw-”
“Swing that way?” In-ho finished for him. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Gi-hun swallowed as In-ho placed a hand on his upper thigh, lips now an inch away from his own. He could feel his pulse thrumming, heart pounding harder, under In-ho’s heated gaze. “Do you hate this, Gi-hun? Do you want me to move away?”
At this, In-ho removed his hand and a sudden panic filled Gi-hun. “No!”
“No, what?” In-ho’s tone was too knowing, teasing in a mean way that Gi-hun was surprised to like.
“No… I don’t hate it.”
In-ho smiled. “Then let’s get out of here.”
Gi-hun swallowed both drinks for courage as he followed In-ho out of the bar, praying he wasn’t about to get mugged with an embarrassing tent in his pants.
Gi-hun let out a moan as In-ho shoved him roughly against the hallway wall, lips reattaching to his immediately. He was relentless, tongue entering Gi-hun’s mouth and twirling around his own. In-ho seemed to be on a mission to turn him into a squirming mess as he dragged his tongue on the roof of his mouth, uncaring to come up for breath as he kissed Gi-hun fiercely.
In-ho didn’t stop here, however. He grabbed hold of both Gi-hun’s wrists and pinned them above his head while shoving his thigh in between his, creating delicious friction that was threatening to end this much too soon.
Gi-hun decided to tell him this but couldn’t seem to fully separate from In-ho’s attack on his lips. “I’m going to cu-” A loud groan escaped him as In-ho pressed his knee in harder. “-if you keep that up.”
“You can,” In-ho replied, moving down to plant wet kisses on his jawline. “It doesn’t mean I’ll stop there, though.”
Gi-hun let his head hit the wall behind him. “In-ho, fuck-”
He could feel where the man was laughing against his neck. “Too much?” he asked, coming back up to leave soft kisses against his swollen lips.
Gi-hun rolled his hips to get even more stimulation in response. “Not enough,” he practically whined, reclaiming In-ho’s mouth himself.
He was quickly maneuvered off the wall and, as his wrists were released, wrapped his arms around In-ho’s shoulders. “Which room is yours?” In-ho asked as he moved them backward in the pink motel corridor.
“Doesn’t matter,” Gi-hun said. “Any.”
He barely registered the sound of a door clicking open before In-ho was aggressively pushing his jacket off. Gi-hun followed suit with his button-up, struggling to keep his hands steady. A loud clattering noise had Gi-hun pause in his efforts.
In-ho had thrown his jacket to the ground. The jacket that had the two blades in it. Gi-hun nervously lifted his head to meet In-ho’s unrelenting gaze on the metal sticking out of the pockets.
Gi-hun hoped he hadn’t ruined this for himself already. “They’re for self-defense. I’m just really paranoid-” he rushed to explain.
“Gi-hun.” In-ho voice held a gravelly tone to it that it hadn’t before. When he looked back, In-ho’s gaze had darkened considerably. “Get on the bed.”
The command brooked no argument.
As soon as he was settled on the pillows, In-ho joined him, speedily ridding him of his pants and shirt. “You just keep getting more and more fascinating,” he murmured quietly as if to himself, leaving a wet trail on Gi-hun’s abdomen. “Wandering around as if being followed, carrying knives on you, owning a motel all for yourself…”
“In-ho…” Gi-hun was overwhelmed by all the stimulation he was receiving. In-ho’s hands and mouth on him, his sex-driven voice washing over him with worshipping words. He was worried his age had finally caught up to him. “Please.”
“I have you, Gi-hun,” he replied. “Just trust me.”
In-ho finally brought himself back up to Gi-hun’s level, shoving his shirt sleeves off at the same time. “I’m going to wreck you,” he said, pulling a vial out of his back pocket. Oil, Gi-hun’s mind helpfully supplied.
He lifted his hips as In-ho pulled his underwear off, reverent in his movements. Gi-hun almost felt self-conscious as In-ho stared at his swollen cock. It twitched as In-ho ran his fingers along the side, chuckling to himself as he leaned down to press his tongue to the slit. “In-ho.” Gi-hun gasped.
“Shhh,” In-ho hushed. “Let me.”
He continued his teasing touches on Gi-hun’s cock and not a second later, pressed his oil-slicked finger against his entrance. “You are perfect,” In-ho murmured, pushing the digit in, his breath agonizing against Gi-hun’s dick. “Absolutely perfect.”
Gi-hun’s mind was practically mush as he took In-ho’s ministrations with no escape. In-ho’s mouth was relentless on his sensitive head. He was lost as he felt one of his long fingers move inside him, then another, then another- “Fuck me,” he begged, feeling tears in the corner of his eyes. “Please, I can’t-”
“You can,” In-ho cut him off.
“In-ho.”
A pause and then nothing. The sudden lack of stimulation had Gi-hun’s mind come to a stop, eyes opening to find In-ho fumbling with the oil cap. He had pulled himself out of his pants, slicking his own length up with his hand. Gi-hun had the sudden urge to get on his knees and feel it on his tongue but then In-ho was back on him, pressing the tip to his entrance.
They were kissing again and Gi-hun gripped In-ho short hair like a lifeline as he slowly entered his body. “Fuck.”
“Beautiful,” Gi-hun heard him say from a faraway place next to his ear. “So, so beautiful.”
He could feel every vein and ridge of In-ho’s cock as it slid in and out and he knew he was too gone to focus on anything else. How had he deprived himself of this for so long?
Gi-hun’s vocabulary had been shortened to whimpers of In-ho’s name and loud moans as In-ho’s pace changed from relentless pounding to slow glides that were so intense his eyes would roll to the back of his head. At some point, In-ho had found the spot inside of him that had him screaming, begging for more.
In-ho remained plastered to his front, muscular arms caging him in as he kissed him through it all, licking into his mouth when he was unable to reciprocate.
It felt like ages, but what was probably a few minutes, that the heat in Gi-hun’s groin grew and he was trembling through the first mind-blowing orgasm he had had in so long. He clung onto In-ho’s back for dear life as he continued thrusting into him to find his own end and when he did, it was glorious. The feeling of hot cum being shot into him should've disgusted him but instead made him feel claimed in such a satisfying way.
They lay there breathing in each other’s spaces as they came down from their mutual high. The noise of cars and people shouting felt as though they were coming from another world.
In-ho was the first to speak into the delicate silence. “You can come to me now. When you feel that way.”
Gi-hun’s mind had not come back online to understand what he was talking about, too busy running his fingertips on In-ho’s sculpted back. “What?” he asked when no elaboration revealed itself.
“When you feel like someone’s watching.” In-ho lifted his head from the crook of Gi-hun’s neck to catch his eyes. Earnestness was clear in his gaze. “I can help distract you. I can protect you.”
Gi-hun longed to believe that. That In-ho could be the one to stop the Front Man and the games and the phantoms of those who died from following him around everywhere he went. But he couldn’t. Couldn't possibly understand the immensity of trauma and problems Gi-hun carried like a vice and couldn’t seem to leave behind.
He found himself nodding anyway, desperate for any form of relief from the demons of the past two years. “Okay.”
What Gi-hun couldn’t have known, as he lay beneath the covers on In-ho’s chest, arms wrapped around each other, was that he had fallen right into his enemy's hold.
The strangest part was that there was no other place he’d rather be.