Chapter 1: Confusion and Other Worse Things.
Chapter Text
I never thought I'd cross paths with someone like him again. Much less after those damn games. I thought the worst was over, that all I had left was the emptiness, the memories, and the guilt breathing down my neck every time I tried to sleep. But there he was. Jun-ho.
He appeared as if nothing had happened, as if two years hadn't passed. As if he hadn't vanished into the shadows after infiltrating that hell with a badge and a face too clean for all that blood. We met by accident, if accidents still exist in this world.
It was weird at first. I just wanted to close the loop, to understand more about the system that swallowed us all up. But he... he had that way of looking at me. As if he expected me to still have answers. As if he still believed I was something more than just a guy who won by not dying, and just barely.
And yet, I didn't walk away.
Over time, I started looking for him, even waiting for him. That he'd show up at the cafes he liked, that he'd send me cryptic messages as if he were still in undercover cop mode. I'd laugh, but I'd respond. And then we'd end up walking together, sharing silences that spoke volumes.
I liked him. I shouldn't have, but I did.
"Taste knows no age, no gender, no logic," my former loan shark told me, ironically now my right-hand man in this crazy organization we're trying to bring down from within. Yes, the same guy I once owed so much money to that I was hiding from him. Life takes dizzying turns.
"As long as they're adults and there's consent," he added, biting into a cookie as if he were talking about the weather. "Look, Jun-ho may be a cop, but there's sure to be a lot you can teach him. And not just about games, if you know what I mean."
I shot him a look. He hates me when I do that, but he also likes to provoke her. "Don't you have something to do?"
“Sure. Go get some food. But first… tell me, Is this because you think that if he likes you it's because you remind him of his older brother?”
“I don't know,” I murmured. “Maybe. Sometimes I look at him and think he's about to call me ‘big brother,’ and not exactly in a brotherly sense. It unsettles me.”
The pawnbroker shrugged. “As long as he doesn't do it in strange contexts, there shouldn't be a problem. Now, excuse me. Your stomach rules.”
He left me there, with the refrigerator whirring and a lump in my throat. I kept thinking about Jun-ho. His tight smile, the way his fingers brushed against mine when he handed me a glass of water. How, even after everything, I could trust him. Or at least I wanted to.
Maybe I was confused. Or maybe it was something more. Something finally worth exploring, even if it hurt. Even if I had to unravel, again, to find out.
Chapter 2: It's not on purpose, but he does it anyway.
Chapter Text
When I agreed to let Jun-ho come practice at the hotel, I did it because I needed him to know how to defend himself.
That was it.
Or so I wanted to believe.
The place was soundproof. Perfect for avoiding attention. All of my people were already there: men who'd been with me from the beginning, loyal to the core. Some with pasts as dark as mine, others simply broken in other ways.
Jun-ho arrived a few minutes late, apologizing with a smile that didn't help in the least. His jacket was open, his shirt slightly wrinkled. You could see on his face that he hadn't slept well, that he was still haunted by the ghosts of everything that happened. But still... fuck. He looked good.
"I told you to come earlier," I muttered as I handed him a gun.
"And I told you I got lost. It's a maze in this place."
"That's part of the point."
He snorted with a crooked smile, as if this were nothing. As if holding a gun didn't shake. But I saw that slight tremor in his fingers as he took the gun.
"How long has it been since you shot?"
"Two years," he answered without looking at me. "Since I got caught in traffic. Traffic officers don't carry guns."
I moved closer. I had to, of course. It was part of the training. I stood behind him, took his hands gently—at first—and eased his fingers onto the gun. His breathing stopped for a second. Mine too.
"Like this. Not so stiff. Lower your shoulders."
He said it. He did it.
And that was when he leaned forward to set the sights.
The air in the room changed.
Every single man there—fifteen, sixteen, no more—stopped shooting for a moment. They said nothing. They just watched as I stared at Jun-ho, as my eyes involuntarily dropped to the line of his back, to the way his jeans were tighter than necessary as he tried to align himself with the shooting silhouette.
And he... the bastard, didn't even notice.
"He's not doing this on purpose. He's not doing this on purpose." I repeated that to myself.
But my jaw was already tight, and my hands... well, my hands had forgotten how to move.
One of my men—Min-soo, I think—let out a light chuckle, like someone choking on their own judgment. Another raised a mocking eyebrow, as if he already knew something I hadn't said out loud.
I jerked away. I walked to the back, pretending I had something to check.
"Practice by yourself now," I said without turning around.
I could feel his eyes on my back. I could imagine him frowning in confusion.
Jun-ho was never an idiot. But at that moment, for some reason, he seemed the most innocent of all.
And I... I was losing my patience.
Not because of what he was doing.
But because he didn't realize what he was doing.
And that was even worse.
Chapter 3: I Did Notice.
Notes:
Jun-ho pov´s
Chapter Text
It's not that I didn't notice.
It's that I didn't know what to do with it.
Since I went undercover three years ago, my life stopped being normal. Not that it was so normal before, of course. But since I discovered In-ho, since I discovered what he'd become... everything became a straight line with one destination: finding him.
Nothing else mattered.
Eating, sleeping, feeling.
Everything else froze.
And now, suddenly, I'm in a hotel with Seong Gi-hun, a man who was supposed to be just another player, but ended up being a leader, a threat, and... a strange beacon in the middle of this mess.
Today I went to practice with weapons. My hand was shaking. Not out of fear, but because it had been so long since I'd done it that I felt like I was pretending to be someone I wasn't anymore.
Gi-hun came to help me. He gently placed my hands on the weapon. Too gently. And his voice was lower than usual when he told me what to do.
"Like this. Not so stiff. Drop your shoulders."
I did it. And then I felt his presence right behind me.
He wasn't touching me.
But almost.
I leaned in to get a better angle. And I felt him there, motionless. Silent. Breathing differently.
I didn't need to be a detective to realize that.
But I... did nothing.
Because I didn't know what to do.
Because I'm 30 and I barely had my first kiss in middle school, with a classmate who then transferred schools and never spoke to me again. Because between school, shifts, anger, searching... I never had time for myself.
And now there's a man staring at me like I was fire, and I barely know how not to catch fire.
I felt the others' stares too. Muffled laughter. They knew something I felt too, but I wasn't ready to say it.
I felt awkward. Not because of how I held the gun, but because I couldn't maintain the tension.
Gi-hun suddenly stepped away. Without another word.
"Practice by yourself now," he said without looking at me.
And I stood there, gun in hand, heart where it shouldn't be.
In my throat.
In my ears.
In every part of me that I didn't know could react like this.
I shot. I missed.
I shot again.
I didn't know if I wanted to get better...or just for him to touch me again.
Chapter 4: If you're going to sit next to me, be careful.
Chapter Text
Jun-ho showed up unannounced. Again.
But this time he didn't come armed with weapons or with questions about my schedule for the day. He was carrying a large bag, one of those recycled fabric ones, and it smelled... well, it smelled like home. Like a pressure cooker, freshly cooked rice, something you didn't know you'd been missing until it was in front of you again.
"What's that?" I asked from the table, barely looking up.
"Food. Homemade."
He shrugged, as if it were no big deal.
But it was.
"Made by you?"
"Yeah," he said, putting the bag down on the table. "I had time. And I remembered you'd eat any junk food from the vending machine."
I chuckled.
He was right.
He pulled out two containers, chopsticks, and a small bottle of sauce that was obviously homemade.
The rice had that golden color that only comes out when fried patiently.
There was kimchi, egg, and seaweed.
It was a simple meal, but made with care. Made for someone.
"Thank you," I murmured, taking the chopsticks.
Jun-ho didn't say anything else for a while. He just ate, sideways, in silence. Not awkwardly... but with that air of someone keeping something inside.
And I, idiot that I am, couldn't let it go any longer.
"You noticed, right? That time. In the shooting gallery."
He stopped. He didn't look at me immediately, but his jaw tensed slightly.
"Yes," he said finally. "I noticed."
Silence.
"And why didn't you say anything?"
And there... there he looked up. For the first time in days, he looked at me as if I were present. As if he weren't trapped in his own thoughts, or in his brother's shadow.
"Because I don't know what to do with it."
My eyebrow rose on its own. "With what?"
"With you. With the way you look at me. With the way I feel."
He looked down. He played with the chopsticks.
"With myself."
I didn't say anything. I let him continue. Because for the first time, he seemed to want to.
"Gi-hun… I don't have the slightest idea what a relationship looks like. Not a healthy one, not a broken one, not a one-night stand. Nothing. I don't know how to do this. I don't know if you say anything, if you touch, if you wait."
His hands were shaking a little. Barely perceptible. But they were.
"Do you know what I did the last time I thought I liked someone? I kissed him in my second year of high school, I got nervous, he stopped talking to me, and I dedicated myself to studying like my life depended on it. And now… I'm in my twenties. And there's you. And you're looking at me like you know something I don't."
I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
"I don't know as much as you think either," I told him honestly. "I've been married, yes. I had a daughter. But that doesn't make me an expert. Just… human. Wrong a lot."
Jun-ho looked up again. His eyes had that uncertain, almost wounded gleam, but there was something else now.
Confidence. Or a desire to have it.
"So? What am I supposed to do?"
I took a little more rice, chewed it slowly. Then, smiling faintly, I said,
"Start by cooking again. And by sitting next to me without looking like you're running away."
He smiled. Small, but sincere.
"I can try that."
And for the rest of the meal, we didn't speak of it anymore.
But we ate closer.
Closer together.
And that, for me, was a start.
Chapter 5: If you're coming for me, do it with clean hands.
Chapter Text
He didn't tell me why he came more often.
Nor did he need to.
"I'm preparing the plan more carefully," he said.
"It's so as not to arouse suspicion," he murmured as he placed his jacket on the chair and sat down opposite me again.
Sometimes with food, other times with reports, almost always with that focused gaze that fooled no one.
Much less me.
I didn't say anything.
But I started doing something different.
The first time he showed up unannounced, frowning and with my traffic police uniform half-buttoned, I was in an old T-shirt and pajama pants.
Now, every time I think he's going to come—and he always comes—I change first.
I put on the cleanest shirt I have. I comb my hair a little. I wash my hands well.
It's not flirting.
It's respect.
It's saying, without words: I see you. It matters to me that you see me.
He doesn't seem to notice... at least he doesn't say so.
But every time he sits down, he gives me a quick, sideways glance.
As if wondering if I'm out or getting ready for something.
And yes, I am.
For him.
Jun-ho officially resigned two weeks ago.
He told me this with a mixture of relief and fear, as if he expected me to yell at him for abandoning everything.
"That way, no one will ask what I do with my time," he said. "That way I can practice more. And... well, be available if you need help."
He didn't say it looking into my eyes.
And he didn't need to.
I knew what he meant.
Since then, I've been teaching him.
Not just about plans.
Not just about routes or weapons or the signals we'll give when the time comes.
I also teach him something else.
Something more invisible.
I take his hand, sometimes.
Not like someone grabbing, but like someone offering.
When I pass him the papers, I leave my fingers on his for a second longer.
When we're in the soundproof room and he's trembling after a bad shot, I put my hand around his and show him how his pulse stabilizes.
When we leave the hotel to walk unfollowed, I offer him my arm as if it were a joke. But I let him decide whether to take it.
The first time our hands were intertwined for more than five seconds, he said nothing.
I didn't let go either.
I didn't tell him the meaning.
I didn't ask him to understand it.
I'm just teaching him, step by step, that he doesn't have to be afraid of being touched without consequences.
That there are ways to be with someone without feeling exposed, judged, or small.
That being close doesn't have to hurt.
Maybe one day he'll thank me for it.
Or maybe not.
But if I'm going to show him what a relationship is, I'll start with the hands.
Because hands...
Hands also speak.
And his are already beginning to respond.
Chapter 6: “Here you go, love”.
Chapter Text
I don't like going out.
Not since what happened.
Not since I realized how many cameras are out there and how many eyes are capable of seeing more than they should.
So I stay.
In this hotel with walls that don't ask questions, with people who already know.
And between training, planning, and tense silences, I try to maintain some order. Some sanity.
I wasn't expecting a visitor today.
I heard the knock on the door and thought it was one of the guys, who'd forgotten something, or had come to go over the plans again.
But when I opened it, it was him.
Jun-ho.
No uniform. No papers. No excuses.
Just a bag in his hand and a different look.
More... serene. As if he'd rehearsed something and didn't know whether to do it now or later.
"Do you mind if I eat here?" he asked, like someone asking permission in someone else's house.
I shook my head and stepped aside.
He sat down at the table as if he'd done it before.
He took out the containers one by one, and as soon as the smell reached me, I felt a direct hit to my stomach.
"This is..."
"Spicy beef stew, the one you once said your mother made." He didn't look at me as he said this, as if he still struggled to meet my gaze when he did something like that.
I didn't remember ever telling him about my mother.
Not that much, at least.
Maybe I blurted it out on one of those silly afternoons, with my guard down.
He sat across from me. He served both plates.
He didn't use jokes. He didn't make strange comments.
He just placed the plate in front of me, handed me the chopsticks, and then he said it.
Quietly. Naturally. As if it had come out unfiltered.
"Here you go, love."
The silence that followed was almost violent.
Not because of what he said.
But because he said it as if it were nothing.
As if he'd already thought it through, digested it, accepted it.
I looked at him, hoping he'd get nervous, back down, apologize.
But he didn't.
He only held my gaze for a moment—brief but clear—and then looked down at his plate as if that protected him.
I chuckled, unable to help it.
"Was that a mistake, or are you rehearsing?"
He didn't answer me with words.
But when our knees touched under the table and he didn't move away, I understood.
He wasn't rehearsing.
He was just starting.
And me...
Me too.
Chapter 7: As if it were easy.
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I never thought this would happen to me.
To feel loved again.
Not admired, not respected, not followed.
Loved. And the worst - or the best - is that nothing spectacular was needed.
It was just that Jun-ho stayed.
One night after another. One gesture after another.
Like now, for example.
He sleeps in my bed. Not for safety, nor for strategy, nor because it's convenient. He sleeps here because he wants to. Because he says he sleeps better. Because sometimes he looks for me in the middle of the night and puts an arm over me without even noticing.
And me…I die a little bit of tenderness every time he does it.I never thought a guy like him could be like that.
So direct professionally, so skilled with silences… but so clumsy, so new to matters of the heart.
The first time he tried to give me a "couple's" hug, he patted me on the back.
As if I had just scored a goal or something.
I laughed so much that he almost left the room, out of embarrassment.
Now he doesn't do it that way.
Now he leans in.Sometimes he cuddles without realizing it, rests his head on my shoulder, or reaches for my hand while we talk.He has turned red with every kiss.
Every single one.
Even the twenty-seventh, which I gave him just to tease him while he was eating and he ended up choking on rice.—Don't make fun of me —he told me that time, covering his mouth.
"What about? You look beautiful like this " I replied.
And he did.
All blushing, all new to this.
All his.
But what moves me the most is not his hands or his nerves or his hugs. It's how he talks to me. How he trusts.
How he sits in front of me and asks things like:
"Did you also feel this way the first time someone you liked? "
"Do you think I'm going too fast? "
"Do you mind if I stay a little longer?"
And I always answer him with the truth. That yes. That I felt confused. That no, it’s not going fast. That of course he can stay as long as he wants. Because the truth is that I am learning too. After so many games, betrayals, masks, and life-or-death bets… To return to this. To the human. To the tender.
It's like learning to live again.
Like having a new heart, clumsier but more sincere.
And Jun-ho...Jun-ho is not perfect.
But he loves me as if I were.
As if there were no doubt at all.
And I...I am starting to believe him.
Chapter 8: The broken mask.
Chapter Text
The air smelled of spent gunpowder and sweat.
We'd been training all day, though it seemed more like we were doing it to forget that the countdown was getting closer.
The men had already left.
Only he and I remained.
Jun-ho, sitting on the edge of the table, drinking water as if trying to cleanse himself from the inside out. I, with my jacket open, trying to let the tension of the day evaporate. We didn't talk much, and yet his silence had a strange weight. Different.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, approaching.
He didn't look at me at first.
He just lowered his head and set the glass aside.
"There's something I never told you. From when I was at the Games."
I tensed a little. Just a little. I've always had a hard time stopping myself from preparing for the worst.
"Tell me," I said, crossing my arms.
Jun-ho looked up. He was serious. More than usual.
"When I infiltrated, I pretended to be one of the guards, you know that. But it wasn't enough to get where I wanted, so I also managed to pass myself off as a waiter when the VIPs arrived."
I nodded silently.
"One of the VIPs…" he swallowed, "was wearing a tiger mask. He was older. Richer, with that disgusting tone of voice that all those who think they're gods have. He looked at me… and he liked me."
Something in my stomach tightened. Not from jealousy. Not from insecurity.
It was something more primal.
Like a reminder of what the Games stole from us all: dignity, control, the right to say no."
"He took me to one of the private rooms," he continued. "He closed the door. He took off his robe in front of me. He told me to take off the mask. He wanted to see my face." He called me "beautiful."
Each word hurt more than the last.
Not because of what he was saying, but because of his voice. Because he spoke as if he were still there, trapped.
Because he hadn't looked at me even once since it started.
"I had my gun with me," he continued, more quietly. "I threatened him before he touched anything other than my mask. I was quick. Precise. But that's what alerted the system. That's why I almost didn't get out. That's why I was about to..."
I walked over and took his face in my hands.
"Jun-ho."
He finally looked at me. His eyes were like two panes of glass about to shatter.
"I didn't do anything wrong. I know that. But I felt dirty. I felt... weak. For letting myself be led into that room. For not reacting sooner. For pretending I was okay."
"Jun-ho," I repeated, "you weren't weak. You were brave. You survived. You did what you had to do."
"But if I hadn't had my gun, who knows..." He swallowed again. "I don't know what I would have done."
"And yet, you did it. You came out. You're here. With me."
I leaned closer and hugged him. Not as a partner. Not as allies.
I hugged him as someone who knows. Who's been there too. Who's seen the face of abuse disguised as power, gold, masks.
And I didn't let go. Not until he took his first deep breath in minutes.
"Thank you for telling me," I whispered.
Jun-ho didn't respond. But his arms wrapped around my back.
And that night, as he slept with his head on my chest, I understood that loving someone wasn't just about protecting them from the world.
It was also about accepting their shadows.
And making space for them.
Chapter 9: First time (in another way).
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One week. It had only been a week since Jun-ho opened his wound to me as if he could trust me with it.
And he did.
Since then, something between us changed. He became softer, warmer. Like a sheet freshly dried in the sun.
There wasn't a big conversation. We didn't make plans. It just happened.
One night, in my hotel room, after training, after eating, after half-laughing at how one of the guys nearly shot a lamp.
Jun-ho looked at me. And he didn't look away.
The clothes fell slowly. Nothing theatrical. Nothing urgent. Just... natural.
Until it wasn't.
He was nervous. But not the kind of nervousness you feel when you do something wrong.
It was the nervousness of someone in a new place with a borrowed flashlight.
"Are you okay? " I asked, stroking his cheek with the back of my fingers.
"Yes... yes." he replied. " It's just that… "
And then it happened. He tried to kiss me, with all the intention in the world, but instead of going for my mouth, he kissed… my chin. Straight on. And then he looked at me as if he had done everything perfectly.
I tried. I really tried to keep my composure. But I exploded into laughter.
Jun-ho stood still. Between confused and… offended?
"What's wrong? "
"I'm sorry. " I laughed, covering my face. "It's just that… no one has ever kissed me like that. It was very... precise, detective."
He crossed his arms, half annoyed, half as red as a tomato.
"I was aiming for your mouth! I didn’t know you moved so much when you're about to be kissed... "
"I didn’t move! It was all your navigation system. " I teased, pulling him with me to the bed while laughing. Jun-ho looked at me with those dark eyes that always widened whenever he didn't know what to do, like a lost puppy in a storm. And then I understood.
We didn't need to do anything that night. He was already giving me everything.
I made him lie back on the bed and lay down beside him. I slid a hand along his side, calmly, unhurried, and stole a real kiss from him. Short. Warm. On the lips.
Jun-ho stayed with his eyes closed. As if he had just touched the sun and didn't know how to come back to earth.
"Is this how it’s done? " he murmured.
"It depends. Do you want another one?"
He nodded without speaking.And I gave it to him.
We spent the night like this.
He went down under my caresses, under my lips, and I was relearning what it meant to take care of someone without the fear of having them taken away.I gave him kisses on the forehead, on the neck, on the shoulder.
I tickled his back until he laughed.
And I held him when he closed his eyes and murmured my name as if it were the place where he felt safest.It wasn't the night we had imagined.
It was better.It was ours.
Chapter 10: Slowly, but with you.
Chapter Text
Sometimes I think that Jun-ho doesn't know what he's doing.And I don't mean that in a bad way. I say it with tenderness. Like someone watching another person build a piece of furniture without instructions and with their heart in their hands.
After that night —the night we ended up laughing and hugging instead of anything else— we didn’t talk much about the subject. There was no need.I read the silences. He read my gestures. We understood each other better than anyone would bet.
And little by little, we started to move forward.
Not with giant steps. With fingers.With knuckle brushes, with his trembling hands searching for my shirt at the end of the day.With his lips learning to stay still against mine, instead of escaping with a shy apology.
One day he came after lunch, took off his jacket, and sat on my bed as if it had always been his place.
I didn't say anything. I got closer, touched his knee.
He looked at me. He didn't look away.
I kissed his temple. Then his cheek. Then the corner of his lips.
"Are you okay? " I whispered.
"Yes. " he said.
And he wrapped his arms around me. Not just any hug. One of those where you feel the other person as if they needed you right there, between their ribs.
We weren't in a hurry. Sometimes it was just slow kisses, other days it was his head on my chest while I stroked his hair and he talked about his day.
And sometimes, his fingers dared to explore my waist beneath my shirt, and they stopped as if they needed permission.
"You can touch me," I said.
"I'm already doing it."
"Not just with your fingertips, Jun-ho. I'm not made of paper."
It turned red.
It always turned red.
And yet, he tried a little harder and harder.
Sometimes we were a couple of idiots laughing because he almost fell out of bed when I leaned over to kiss his belly.
Or because he wanted to "practice" a caress that he had seen in a series... and it almost dislocated my shoulder.
But all that was perfect.
Because it was him. Because I was trying. Because he trusted me to make mistakes.
And I... I was learning too. I was learning what it was to be touched gently. To be looked at as something valuable. I was learning what it was for someone to desire me without hurry. For someone to desire me... just that.
There were nights when we only slept intertwined. And others, when his touches went a little further down. And mine followed, without pushing.
Just accompanying him.
This was not games.
It was not survival.
It was love. Strange. Slow. Human. And it was fine that way.
Chapter 11: The secret of the brothers.
Chapter Text
As their relationship progresses, so do their plans, although without positive results. One day, Jun-ho asks me what my plan is if things don't go as expected. I admit that I hadn't thought it through completely. Jun-ho decides to take charge of the situation and create a series of plans so that, in the worst case scenario, we can at least survive what's coming. Then one day he tells me that we should gather everyone, so that's what I do.
Two days later, the room was full, but the silence weighed more than the presence of all the men. Woo-seok stood with his arms crossed, serious. Kim and his men were attentive, as if waiting for orders. I, sitting to one side, tried to read Jun-ho's expression... but it was impenetrable.
Until he spoke.
"Before I tell you what I know," he began, in the firmest voice I'd ever heard him use, "I need you to understand where this information is coming from."
I felt my skin prickle. It wasn't common for Jun-ho to go into that inspector mode. He was no longer the boy who brought home-cooked food, who blushed when I called him "handsome." Now he spoke as if he carried the weight of something unbearable on his shoulders.
"Two brothers," he continued. "Sixteen years apart in age. Their father abandoned them, and the younger one's mother, who wasn't the older one's mother, was left alone." That's when the older brother gave up his own dreams to take care of the younger one. He became a police officer, thinking he'd have a steady salary that way.
The men looked at each other. I just looked at him.
“Time passed. The older brother was promoted to inspector. He got married. But the younger brother got sick and needed a kidney. The older brother didn't hesitate. He gave it to him.”
I felt a knot in my stomach. I could guess where this was going, but I didn't want to interrupt.
“Everything seemed to be going well… until months later the older brother's wife got sick. She was pregnant. She didn't want an abortion. Her condition worsened. She also needed a kidney. But her husband couldn't give it to her. He'd already given it to the younger brother.” Jun-ho clenched his fists, as if it still hurt to say it. “And then he disappeared. No one heard from him.”
An even thicker silence fell in the room.
“He joined some games. He won. But when he came back… his wife was dead. And the baby too.”
The air escaped from my lungs.
That was the breaking point. I knew it even before he spoke the next words.
"I guess that's when that older brother became what we know today as the Leader of the Games."
Everyone held their breath. Kim frowned. Woo-seok looked at him with a mixture of respect and distrust.
And then, Jun-ho looked at us all straight in the eye. At me too.
"Those brothers... they're In-ho, the oldest. And me, Jun-ho, the youngest."
It hit me like a bucket of ice water.
His brother.
The Leader.
That masked monster, the shadow behind everything... it was his blood.
I looked at him.
I looked at him as if I didn't know him, as if I'd never held his hand or seen him blush at my kisses.
And yet, all I thought was: Now I understand why you always carried so much pain.
Chapter 12: What hurts and what remains.
Chapter Text
I'd never felt such an awkward silence as the one that followed Jun-ho's confession.
The men murmured among themselves, some suspicious, others expectant. I remained still. Still, but with a churning in my chest.
He tried to speak first.
"I didn't say it before because…" his voice faltered for the first time all night, "because I was afraid of what they would do if they knew who my brother was. I was afraid someone would get ahead of me, that they would use him against us. But now… now I understand that if we really want to end this, we can't keep secrets."
Woo-seok was the first to react.
"What you have is an ace up your sleeve." He leaned forward, with that look of a born strategist. "It's not a disadvantage to have you here. It's just the opposite. The Leader's brother isn't with the Leader,he's with us. That changes things."
The others nodded slowly. There was doubt, yes, but also something resembling hope.
I, on the other hand, still said nothing.
Jun-ho noticed. I know because he looked at me with his eyes, almost pleading.
Finally, I took a deep breath and spoke.
"It hurts that you hid this from me." My voice came out harsher than I intended. "I'm not going to lie to you, Jun-ho. It hurts."
Silence fell again, heavy.
He lowered his gaze, as if he had expected those very words.
I took a step toward him.
"But that doesn't change how I feel."
I saw his head jerk up in surprise.
"It just..." I brought a hand to my chest, because I felt the weight there, right there, "just makes me understand the pain you carry."
His mouth parted, as if he didn't know what to say.
It wasn't automatic forgiveness, it wasn't forgetting. It was the truth. Mine.
And in that moment, I realized that our relationship wasn't about secrets or perfection.
It was about staying together.
About learning to carry it together, even when the burden was unbearable.
Chapter 13: Promises without masks.
Chapter Text
When the others left, the room was empty, but I still felt the stares weighing on me. Woo-seok had given his verdict, Kim's men had prudently accepted it... and yet all I cared about was Jun-ho's face.
He was still standing there, like a child trapped with his hand in a jar. He was staring at the floor, at his own shoes, as if they were more interesting than facing me.
I closed the door behind the last one to leave and stared at him.
"Jun-ho."
He didn't raise his head.
I approached slowly, until I was a foot away.
"Look at me."
He looked up. His eyes were shining, as if he'd endured too much.
"I..." he began, but I interrupted.
"No. This time I'm talking."
I swallowed. I'd carried this for too long. And if he had the courage to open up, I should do it too.
“Let’s promise something. You and me. No secrets. No half-truths. If we want this to work…” I pointed at him and then at me, as if it weren’t clear, “seriously, if we want to work… we have to show ourselves as we are.”
He nodded slowly. Almost a whisper:
“I promise.”
Me too.
I took a deep breath and blurted out what I had never said out loud since.
“The old man. Oh Il-nam. He was one of them. The richest, the one who created all this. And he played me. He pretended to be weak, pretended to be my friend… until the very end.” I felt rage burning in my throat. “And I… took care of him. I gave him my trust. Until I found out who he really was.”
Jun-ho said nothing, just squeezed my hand. And that gesture gave me the strength to continue.
“And then there’s her. My daughter.” I felt a lump in my throat stronger than any words. "I haven't been the father she deserved. I wasn't there when I should have been, I didn't take care of her the way I should have. But... the only thing that keeps me alive is the hope of seeing her again. And if I die in this, at least I want her to know I tried."
The silence was different this time. Not awkward, not tense. It was a full silence. As if my words were floating between us and he was carefully gathering them.
Jun-ho leaned closer and rested his forehead against mine.
"Thank you for saying that." His voice trembled, but it was firm at the same time. "I promise you, we'll never be alone again. Not you, not me."
I hugged him. Not as a leader, not as a strategist. As a man.
As someone who, for the first time in years, felt like he had a future, even in the midst of war.
A promise without masks.
Chapter 14: Our corner.
Chapter Text
I can't remember the last time I felt this calm.
Maybe when my daughter was little and fell asleep in my arms after a whole day of running around the house.
Maybe when I thought there was still a future before games took everything away from me.
Now, in this hotel room, with Jun-ho leaning against my chest, I feel something similar.
There's no strategy. No plans. No weapons.
Just him, breathing slowly, his eyes half-closed as if he were afraid everything would vanish if he opened them too quickly.
"I don't know how you do this," he murmurs.
"Do what?"
"Make me feel... safe." He laughs a little, nervously. "I always thought I could do anything."
I stroke his hair slowly, letting my fingers get used to the gesture that feels more and more natural to me.
"Because you're not alone," I tell him. "And because, even if I fall apart, I still have the strength to take care of you."
He lifts his head just a little, just enough to look at me. His cheeks flush as they always do when I get too close.
I give him a quick kiss on the nose. Just because I know it unnerves him.
"Gi-hun..." he whispers, his lips trembling as if he wants to say more but can't find the words.
"Shh. You don't have to say anything." I pull him closer. His head fits on my shoulder as if it's always been his.
And so we stay. No grand promises. No impossible plans. Just the certainty that, in that moment, we had a corner of our own, far from the noise and the fear.
I hold him tighter.
Because in the midst of this war that's not over yet, I need to remind him—and remind myself—that there's still something worth resisting for.
Him.
We.
Our corner.
Chapter 15: Nobody goes alone.
Chapter Text
The weeks passed like endless training.
Gunshots in soundproof rooms, information repeated until it was etched into our skin, makeshift maps on the hotel tables. Every detail Jun-ho remembered about the island we studied as if it were the missing key.
But that afternoon, as we went over escape routes, something clicked in my head.
"Wait..." I said, placing my hands on the table. "What if that captain who saved you when you jumped into the sea... wasn't there by chance?"
Jun-ho looked up, surprised.
"What do you mean?"
"Think." I stared at him. "You were undercover, seconds from dying. And he shows up right there? I don't know, it sounds too convenient. What if someone sent him?"
I saw his expression change. First a look of shock, then something close to resignation.
"Could be..." he whispered. "It could be In-ho."
I tensed.
"Your brother?"
"Yes." He nodded slowly. "If he knew what I was doing, if he was watching me... it would make sense that he'd send someone he trusted to get me out of there and keep me away. I didn't suspect because... because he was always my blind spot. I never wanted to think he could be capable of all this."
The room fell silent. Only the distant hum of the air conditioner could be heard.
Jun-ho took a deep breath and, as if admitting it would fit another piece of the puzzle, said what none of us wanted to hear:
"And if he knows where I've been moving all these years... he might also know where you're hiding, Gi-hun. Even if it doesn't seem like it."
A shiver ran through me.
"Are you implying we're exposed?"
"I'm not implying it. I suspect it." He looked at me straight, with the seriousness of someone who had already made up his mind. And that's why we need to move carefully.
"What do you propose?"
"Go after the recruiter." He said the words firmly, as if he'd been waiting for the moment. "If anyone holds the key to getting closer, it's him."
Everyone in the room exchanged glances. There was tension, but also a spark of hope.
Jun-ho stood up.
"But let's be clear. No one goes alone. No one. If anyone finds him, the first thing they should do is call the rest. Immediately. Understand?"
Everyone nodded. Even I, though inside my blood boiled at the thought of having to wait, of not throwing myself at that man's neck the moment I saw him.
Jun-ho held my gaze.
And in that silence, I understood that it wasn't a suggestion. It was an order.
And for the first time... I was willing to obey it.
Chapter 16: The biter bit.
Chapter Text
I don't know how to explain it.
My heart was beating like when I ran in the sand at the playground, certain that one false step was the difference between life or death.
We'd been following the recruiter for two days. Always the same gray suit, the same polite smile as he handed out those cards with the circle, the triangle, the square. As if he were offering candy.
I almost followed him alone.
I confess. As soon as I saw him step into the narrow alley, my blood boiled, and I was about to throw myself after him. But I remembered the promise. No one goes alone.
So I gritted my teeth and waited for Woo-seok and Kim's men to catch up.
We all surrounded him. We thought we had him.
But this bastard was slippery. He pretended to stumble, and in that movement, he grabbed Woo-seok's arm, twisting it backward. In a second, I was dragging him, pushing him toward a van that appeared at the end of the street as if it had been planned.
"Shit!" I yelled, running after them.
Woo-seok struggled, but the recruiter was stronger than he looked. I felt desperation burn in my chest.
And then, a sharp shot.
Not at anyone. Into the air.
We all stopped for a second.
Jun-ho was there.
Relentless.
His gun pointed directly at the recruiter's back.
"One move," he said in that icy voice he had when he was in police mode, "and you get a taste of your own medicine."
The recruiter tensed. For a moment, I thought he'd try to run anyway, that he'd bet his life on luck.
But no.
He let go of Woo-seok. He slowly raised his hands.
We didn't let him speak.
Woo-seok hit him hard in the jaw, and the man collapsed like a sack.
The echo of the gunshot still vibrated in my ears as we carried him unconscious to the car.
We took him to the hotel, tied up, gagged, without giving him a second's respite.
For the first time since it all began... I felt like we had someone who could open the door to what was behind the scenes.
The hunter, the hunted.
Chapter 17: The poisoned gift.
Chapter Text
We sat him down on the hardest chair in the room, his hands and feet tied. Woo-seok yanked off his hood, and there he was: the recruiter. The same impeccable suit, though wrinkled from the fight. The same polished expression… only now he was sweating.
“You know who we are,” Jun-ho began coldly, resting his gun on the table. “And you know why you're here. So don't waste your time.”
The man smiled.
Did he smile?
Yes. The smile of someone who still thinks he's playing with the cards in his favor.
“You don't understand,” he muttered. “Everything you've done… was already planned.”
Woo-seok punched him in the mouth before he could continue.
“Shut up with your riddles. Give answers.”
The recruiter spat out blood, but he kept smiling.
We tried everything: direct questions, threats, even leaving him in the dark for a while to despair. Nothing. Just cryptic phrases.
Until Jun-ho leaned over, grabbed him by the collar, and whispered something I didn't hear.
The man tensed. He swallowed.
And then, slowly, he pointed with his chin toward his own inside pocket.
Woo-seok checked it and took out a black card, more sober than the others.
He placed it on the table.
I looked at it. Gold letters gleamed in the light.
A date.
A place.
October 31st.
Nox Nightclub.
My stomach lurched.
My birthday.
I turned to Jun-ho, searching for answers.
He shook his head, serious.
"I knew it." His voice sounded bitter. "In-ho knew we'd catch him somehow." This isn't a coincidence. It's a message.
The recruiter smiled again, a trickle of blood at the corner of his lips.
I straightened, taking a deep breath, and looked at Kim and his men.
"Listen to me carefully." My voice sounded firmer than I felt. "Don't kill him. But don't let him escape either. No matter what it costs."
Kim nodded, serious.
"Why do you want him alive?" Woo-seok asked.
"Because he can serve as a witness." I turned to the recruiter, who still seemed to be enjoying the game. "And when all this falls apart... someone will have to tell what it looked like from the inside."
Jun-ho approached my side. His hand, hidden from the rest, brushed mine. Barely for a second.
A silent reminder that, even though the game was far from over, I was no longer facing it alone.
The most poisoned birthday present of my life was already on the table.
Chapter 18: Plan B, C… and us.
Chapter Text
It was late. Everyone was asleep in their rooms, exhausted after hours of reviewing the damn card and the information Jun-ho had saved in his notes. I stayed with him in the hotel's main hall, the two of us in front of a makeshift board filled with papers, arrows, names, and too many unknowns.
Jun-ho ran his hand through his hair, frustrated.
"If Plan A fails... we need something else."
I nodded. The idea had been lingering in my head for days, and I finally dared to blurt it out:
"I could... put on a tracker. If things go wrong, if we don't manage to catch the leader... I could let myself be captured again. Go back to the games. You guys would track me with the signal."
The silence grew heavy.
Jun-ho looked at me as if I'd just said the most outrageous thing in my life.
"Are you listening to yourself, Gi-hun?" His tone was harsh, almost a scolding. What if they realize you're wearing a tracker? What if they find it before we can do anything? What if we take too long? What if... you die?
I bit my lip. I was aware of all that, but... what other option did we have?
He didn't let me answer. He gently slammed his fist on the table, containing his rage.
"No." His voice lowered, firm, like an oath. "That's the biggest fool I've ever heard."
"Jun-ho..."
"No, listen to me." He leaned toward me, his eyes burning with a mixture of fear and love that disarmed me. "You don't beat these people by playing fair, or by falling into their traps. You have to deceive those who deceive. Do something they don't expect."
I looked at him without saying anything. His breathing was labored, and for the first time in a long time, he seemed to lose a little of that mask of control he always wore.
"So, what's your plan B?" I asked slowly.
He swallowed and slumped into the chair next to me.
"If plan A fails, then we'll go with plan C."
"And what would that be?"
Jun-ho looked up and, with a calmness that chilled my blood, said,
"Let me come in with you. To the games."
I looked at him, unable to believe what I had heard.
"What...?"
"What you hear." His fingers intertwined with mine under the table, squeezing tightly, as if he needed to give me courage or himself. "If they catch you, I'll be in too. I'm not going to stay here waiting for you, not knowing if you're still alive."
My throat closed. For a moment, I thought he was going to argue, but the words didn't come out. Because in his eyes, there was something stronger than any argument: fear of losing me, but also absolute determination not to leave me alone.
"Jun-ho..." I finally whispered. That sounds even worse than my plan.
He gave a tired smile, barely a flicker.
"Maybe. But at least we'll be together. And if I have to choose between risking my life or staying here praying for your return... I've made my decision."
I remained silent, his hand firm on mine.
And I understood that neither of us was going to back down.
Chapter 19: Allies within.
Chapter Text
We met in the hotel's main lounge. Woo-seok, Kim, and his men all surrounded the table where we'd already laid out papers, maps, and the card with the date and location.
Jun-ho stood, serious, arms crossed. I was at his side, trying not to let it show how much my palms were sweating. We'd decided to tell them everything. No half measures.
"We have a plan A," Jun-ho began directly. "But if it fails, there'll be a plan B… or better the plan C."
Everyone's gaze fixed on him. No one was breathing too hard.
I took a breath.
"Plan B is simple: if we don't manage to catch the leader at the club, I'll let them catch me. With a tracker."
A murmur ran through the room. Woo-seok frowned, but said nothing. It was Kim who slammed his palm on the table.
"Are you crazy, Gi-hun?"
Jun-ho raised a hand, calming him.
"Yes, he is and for that is he has the... Plan C comes in. I'll go in with him."
The silence was so heavy I even heard my own heartbeat. Kim's men looked at each other, tense. Woo-seok opened his mouth, but Kim cut him off with a dry laugh.
"You know what?" he said, looking directly at Jun-ho. "I don't think it's such a bad idea."
Everyone stared at him in disbelief. Me included.
Kim leaned forward, interlacing his fingers on the table.
"If the leader really is your brother, and if there's still something human left in him... then worrying about you will be inevitable. That's a weakness. An advantage for us."
Jun-ho remained silent, his jaw clenched. I felt his shoulder tense next to mine.
Kim continued, confident:
"Besides, Gi-hun won't be alone." He'll have someone inside who can watch his back, someone who won't betray him.' His eyes flicked from Jun-ho to me with a strange spark. 'That could be the difference between dying in those games... or coming back to tell the tale.'
Woo-seok clicked his tongue uncomfortably.
'What if everything goes wrong? What if they both get caught?'
Kim shrugged.
'That's why it's called Plan C. It's not ideal. But I prefer two allies on the inside than just one walking around blindly.'
I took a deep breath. For the first time since I'd come up with that crazy idea, someone could make sense of it. Even though the idea of Jun-ho in the games made my stomach turn.
Jun-ho, on the other hand, just nodded slowly, as if Kim's words had just expressed what he'd already accepted from the start.
'Exactly,' he said calmly. 'Together, we have a better chance.'
No one contradicted him. Not even Woo-seok.
And in that silence, I understood that there was no turning back.
Chapter 20: The same fear.
Chapter Text
When everyone had dispersed, I sat at the empty table, staring at the papers as if they were a condemnation written in ink. Jun-ho closed the door behind the last of the men and approached me silently.
"You don't like it at all," he said bluntly.
I raised my head. His gaze was fixed on me, calm, but with that undertone only I had learned to read: a stormy sea, forcibly contained.
"No," I admitted. "I don't like it. Kim may think it's brilliant, and it even makes sense... but the idea of you going in there with me tears me apart." I swallowed, digging my fingers into the edge of the table. "I don't want you risking your life like that."
Jun-ho took a deep breath, and instead of getting angry, he took a step closer. He placed his hand on mine, stopping me.
"So now you understand?"
"Understand what?" I asked, looking at him in confusion.
He lowered his voice a little, as if confessing a secret.
"The terror I feel when I think of you going in alone." His eyes were unblinking, fixed on mine. "It's the same, Gi-hun. Exactly the same."
I felt a knot rise from my stomach to my throat. There was no easy answer to that.
"Jun-ho..."
"I've been watching you throw yourself headfirst into the fire for too long, as if your life were worth less than the plans, or less than justice." He squeezed my hand tightly. "Your life is worth more to me than all of that. And I'm not going to wait around, praying with my hands tied, to see if you'll come back."
I bit my tongue. Part of me wanted to keep arguing, to yell at him to stay out, to not take any risks, that I would endure anything as long as he lived.
But another, more sincere part of me knew he was saying the same thing I felt.
Finally, I sighed, slumping back in my chair.
"We're doomed to worry about each other, aren't we?"
Jun-ho let out a faint smile and, for the first time all night, leaned toward me. He gave me a quick, clumsy, but firm kiss.
"Yes. And that's our strength."
I hugged him without thinking, clinging to him with the same fear and the same certainty.
Chapter 21: Divide to survive.
Chapter Text
The room was tense. The papers, weapons, and serious faces illuminated by the hotel's yellowish lamps made it look like a war council.
Jun-ho spoke, firm as ever:
"We have to move in parallel. If we put all our pieces in at once, the leader will beat us again."
Woo-seok nodded from across the table.
"Tell me what you want me to do."
Jun-ho pointed at the map they had laid out.
"You and your people will watch Captain Park. Don't follow him directly, or he'll get suspicious. Trick him, make him think he's moving freely... but I want you to find out where he doesn't go. Those gaps in his routine could give us a clue as to where the island is."
Woo-seok settled back in his chair, smiling faintly.
"I can do that."
Then Jun-ho looked at Kim.
“Your group will be small. Just three men. They'll take the recruiter to the police station. If we can get him to confess and convince the higher-ups, we'll have a solid witness to back up everything we find later.”
Kim raised an eyebrow.
“And if he tries to escape?”
“Then neutralize him,” Gi-hun replied for the first time, his voice hoarse and tired. “But don't kill him. His word could be the piece that tips the scales in our favor.”
Kim nodded, though his men exchanged awkward glances.
“And you?” Woo-seok asked, looking at me.
I settled in, feeling the weight of all eyes on me.
“I'm going to talk to him. To the leader.”
A murmur ran around the table. Jun-ho tensed beside me, but didn't interrupt.
“If I can lure him out of hiding, maybe we’ll have a chance to end this before another game starts,” I continued. “Jun-ho will be waiting for me outside, with Kim and two of his men, ready to cover the exit.”
Woo-seok studied me closely.
“What if he escapes?”
It was Jun-ho who answered, his voice as hard as steel.
“If he escapes and Gi-hun ends up back in the games… I can't let In-ho know I'm coming in so I'll have to come in as another player.”
A frozen silence fell over everyone.
Kim leaned forward, staring at Jun-ho.
“Are you really going to risk your life like this?”
Jun-ho didn’t blink.
“I’m really not going to leave him alone.”
I swallowed, feeling my heart pounding in my ribs. There was no softening what had just been sealed at that table.
If all else failed… we'd go back in. Together.
Chapter 22: Impossible places.
Chapter Text
Night fell over the hotel, and the silence became almost oppressive. Outside, the men were resting as best they could, some with snores seeping through the thin walls.
I was in bed, but sleep didn't come. Jun-ho wasn't sleeping either; I felt him restless, tossing and turning beside me.
"You can't stop thinking, huh?" I whispered.
He let out a short snort.
"You say that as if you could."
I turned to him, and our faces were a foot apart in the dimness. I could make out his eyes shining, alert, as if analyzing every shadow.
"If we go to the games... you have to know what awaits us." My voice came out deeper than I expected. "In my edition... we played Red Light, Green Light." Then hanging from a rope over the void, fighting with marbles, crossing a glass bridge that shattered beneath their feet… and in the end, a game no one knew, one almost forgotten.
Jun-ho lowered his gaze, as if imagining it all through my words.
"I remember some of them. I saw the shadows of what they did. As a guard, as a waiter… never head-on. Not like that." He paused, then turned to me, serious. "If we're carrying a tracker, it has to be in a place where it's very difficult to remove."
I looked at him curiously.
"What did you have in mind?"
"A tooth's no good," he said instantly. "If they pass through a metal detector, they'll find it. And pulling out a tooth is too obvious."
I swallowed. I didn't like where he was going, but I let him continue.
"It has to be something more… intimate. Somewhere no one would suspect of searching, not even with a quick medical check." He frowned, clearly thinking of a thousand possibilities. "Something implanted under the skin. In a scar, for example. Or on the sole of your foot, where no one would look unless you were injured."
I remained silent, absorbing his words. That was Jun-ho: always cold, always logical, even when he talked about hiding places within the flesh.
"What if it hurts?" I asked, trying to ease the tension.
He looked at me and, for the first time all night, gave an almost shy smile.
"I don't care. What terrifies me is losing you."
I felt my breath catch in my throat. I hugged him without thinking, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Then... we'll do it your way. An impossible place."
He closed his eyes, and in that silence, the only thing that mattered was that his fingers intertwined with mine, as if we had already sworn that, no matter what happened, we would meet again.
Chapter 23: One of us.
Chapter Text
The next morning, still feeling tired, we met again in the living room. Woo-seok was reviewing his notes when Jun-ho called his name, in that tone that brooked no discussion.
"We need a trusted contact." He crossed his arms, straight, his gaze fixed on him. "Someone who can perform a minor implantation, discreetly, without raising suspicions."
Woo-seok raised his eyebrows.
"Do you want a doctor?"
"Not just any doctor," Jun-ho replied flatly. "Someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut and who won't appear in records."
There was a brief silence. I watched Jun-ho be in his element: precise, cold, calculating every risk.
"I know someone," Woo-seok said finally. "An old friend who worked in clandestine clinics. He's trustworthy... or he was."
"Good." Jun-ho nodded approvingly. You're going to look for him. But tell him to come dressed like one of us. A dark jacket, a cap, nothing too conspicuous. If someone's watching, they shouldn't look out of place.
Woo-seok gave a dry laugh.
"One of us? You're asking me to disguise a surgeon as a hotel thug."
"Exactly," Jun-ho replied without flinching. "The less the outside world knows we're getting help, the harder it will be for them to rat us out."
Kim settled back in his chair, watching the scene with some amusement.
"I never thought I'd see the cop giving orders like a mobster."
Jun-ho didn't even flinch.
"I'm not a mobster. I'm cautious." Then he turned to me, his tone changing, softer. "We have to make sure that if everything goes wrong, at least one of us can make it out alive."
I bit my lip, lowering my gaze. Every step we took forward reminded me there was no turning back.
Woo-seok closed his notebook with a bang.
"Okay. I'll bring him here in two days. But if this goes wrong, don't look to me."
Jun-ho nodded.
"If this goes wrong, there'll be no one to look to."
Chapter 24: The best gift.
Chapter Text
Woo-seok's contact arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon. Dressed in a dark jacket and cap, as Jun-ho had ordered, he looked like just another of Kim's men. Only his briefcase gave him away.
"It's the best I can do," the man said after examining the small tracker. "I'll implant it under your skin, in an area they won't easily check. But I can't promise they won't detect it if they use more advanced technology."
Jun-ho and I looked at each other. We both knew it was a risk. But we also knew it was the only way.
I lay down first on the makeshift bed they'd prepared. I felt the cold metal and the sting as he opened a small incision in my side, just below my ribs. I gritted my teeth and endured the burning, thinking about everything that was at stake.
Then it was Jun-ho's turn. I watched him, rigid, controlling every breath as the man did the same to his upper thigh, where an old scar helped camouflage the new mark.
The contact closed the briefcase and looked at us seriously.
"If they discover you, don't mention my name."
I nodded and handed him an envelope stuffed with bills.
"Don't worry. You've already done more than anyone would dare."
Woo-seok escorted him out and, as promised, returned it to the place where he had found it.
As night fell completely, the tension of the day left us exhausted. The hotel was silent again, save for the occasional footsteps of Kim's guards in the hallway. Jun-ho and I were left alone in the room, the lights off.
I looked at him, the bandage still on his thigh.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"Bearable," he replied in his usual dry tone, but then he smiled sideways. It's nothing worse than a gunshot.
I laughed, though inside I felt a knot in my chest.
And in that nervous laughter, something changed. Jun-ho leaned closer, slowly, like someone jumping into an abyss for the first time. His hand sought mine, and when I squeezed it, there was no need for words.
That night there was no rush or fear. Just the two of us, carefully exploring each other, with the sweet clumsiness of his inexperience and the unexpected tenderness he awakened in me. I guided him patiently, with kisses that grew in heat until there was no turning back.
And amid the labored breathing, our bodies finally united, I felt that it wasn't the plan, the tracker, or the games that kept us alive. It was him. It was this.
At exactly midnight, while I was still holding him in my arms, Jun-ho pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, his voice trembling, "Happy birthday, love... I love you."
I gasped. My heart leaped so hard it almost hurt.
I squeezed my eyes shut, kissing his forehead, and I knew that even if the future took us to hell, that night was mine. Our impossible gift.
Rose 🌹 (Guest) on Chapter 8 Tue 09 Sep 2025 11:56PM UTC
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vadergreyjoy on Chapter 8 Wed 10 Sep 2025 11:49AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 10 Sep 2025 11:49AM UTC
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