Chapter Text
After the bathroom fight, Thanos and Nam-gyu returned to Thanos’s bed. Thanos leaned against the wall behind him while Nam-gyu shuffled over to the end of the bed, sitting cross-legged. The drugs were wearing off, leaving Thanos hollow-eyed, his stare fixed on the sheets. He had just killed Myung-gi.
“That bastard needed to die,” Thanos spoke softly, almost to himself.
Nam-gyu nodded. “He was asking for it.”
He had been scammed by Myung-gi too, but he didn’t hate him nearly as much as Thanos did.
“But now that fucker MG Coin can’t repay me…” Thanos muttered.
“It’s alright, Thanos. We’ll play the games, get our money, and get out of here,” Nam-gyu said, his voice steady, almost gentle.
“Also… can I have another one of your pills?”
Thanos slipped a hand into the cross hanging around his neck and pulled out a pink pill. As he passed it over, their fingers brushed. Just a flicker of contact, but enough to make the air between them shift slightly. They relaxed on the bed, still facing each other.
“You seen Se-mi or Min-su?” Thanos sat up, leaning forward with his arms draped
over his knees.
“Nah. Min-su must’ve run off and hid during the fight. Don’t know about Se-mi.”
Nam-gyu bit back his irritation. He told himself it was because he didn’t like those two, but deep down, it was jealousy gnawing at him whenever Thanos mentioned anyone else.
…
“So, what do you think the next game will be?” Thanos asked.
“Maybe a jumping or climbing game? That would be fun.” Nam-gyu could feel the pills beginning to take effect, making him more relaxed.
“Yeah, maybe. But we’ll stick together, right, my Nam-su?” Thanos’s gaze carried a warmth that spoke louder than words.
Nam-gyu felt heat rise in his chest at the nickname, his lips parting before he caught himself. “Yeah… we will,” he replied, his voice low. His eyes lingered on Thanos a beat too long, tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the tension coiled in his shoulders.
…
The next game was brutal. A twisted version of hide-and-seek. Thanos and Nam-gyu stuck together, two high assholes tethered by instinct. Nam-gyu grabbed keys off others while Thanos alerted him if he saw someone from the red team.
By the end, blood stained the floor, and the screams of the eliminated players still rang in their ears. But when Nam-gyu shoved the right key into the lock, the heavy door clicked open. Together, they stepped through, alive.
…
Nam-gyu dropped onto the nearest bunk, running a hand over his face. The drugs started to wear off for both of them. Blood from the arena still smeared his clothes, but he didn’t care.
“That was… messy,” Thanos muttered. He laid down next to Nam-gyu.
Four guards with black boxes wrapped like gifts entered the room.
“Players, we sincerely congratulate and commend you all for successfully making it through the first four games. We have prepared a special gift for each of you. Before we reveal the gift, please take a moment to change into the outfits we have brought.”
The guards began passing out the boxes. Nam-gyu cracked open his box. Inside was a neatly folded outfit—dark, sleek, and clearly meant for the next game.
“Great,” he muttered, tossing it back into the box. “Just what I wanted… more clothes I’m probably gonna ruin.”
Thanos opened his box and picked up the outfit. “What are they makin’ us look all fancy for??”
All of the players grabbed their boxes and headed toward the bathrooms. The hallway was dim, the fluorescent lights flickering above, and every step echoed off the concrete walls.
The male players entered the men’s bathroom. Nam-gyu and Thanos placed their boxes on the sink counters. Everyone began getting changed. Nam-gyu started pulling his outfit out, muttering under his breath about stiff fabric and awkward seams. The men around them were busy changing, shoving themselves into the stiff, dark outfits.
Nam-gyu peeled off his blood-stained shirt, tossing it onto the sink counter with a muttered curse. His eyes flicked up, almost catching Thanos as he grabbed the suit. Thanos’s gaze flicked, and he caught a glimpse of the lean lines of Nam-gyu’s torso. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, pretending he hadn’t noticed. Nam-gyu adjusted his pants, unaware—or pretending not to notice—the way Thanos’s eyes lingered a moment too long.
“Hyung… you good?” Nam-gyu asked.
“Yeah,” Thanos nodded.
There was a softness to Thanos, a rare absence of the confidence he usually wore like armor. It was weird to Nam-gyu, seeing him now—and remembering how his attitude was with that Mi-na girl from before.
Nam-gyu looked at him, catching the subtle glance. He squeezed past Thanos to grab his tie. The sudden contact between their bare skin sent a small jolt through both of them. His arm brushed Thanos’s as he reached for the tie, and neither moved away immediately. Thanos’s jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat again, stepping back just enough to break the accidental brush. Nam-gyu grabbed the tie and adjusted it around his neck, finishing getting dressed. Thanos continued getting changed. He struggled with the knot of his own tie, muttering curses under his breath. Nam-gyu noticed his struggling.
“You need help?” He stepped closer to the taller man.
Thanos sighed. “Yeah, I can’t deal with this fucking tie.”
Nam-gyu grabbed it and began to tie it around his neck. His fingers brushed Thanos’s skin as he worked the knot, adjusting it with precise movements. Their faces ended up inches apart, the fluorescent light catching the sharp lines of Thanos’s jaw. Thanos felt the faint heat of Nam-gyu so close, his chest tightening, and for a moment, neither spoke as he adjusted the fabric. Nam-gyu could feel Thanos’s gaze burning into his face. Nam-gyu let his hands linger an extra second, adjusting the final loop. He looked up from the tie to Thanos’s eyes.
“Done.”
Thanos’s gaze remained on Nam-gyu, their faces only inches apart. Both froze, each aware of the other’s presence, of the heat, of the tension humming between them. Nam-gyu’s eyes then flicked to the other man’s lips, and that was all it took. Before either could stop themselves, Thanos leaned down, closing the tiny distance between them. Nam-gyu froze for a heartbeat, then tilted his head, meeting him halfway. The kiss hit with sharp, heated intensity, their lips pressing together firmly. Nam-gyu’s hands lingered slightly on Thanos’s shoulders, steadying himself, while Thanos’s fingers found Nam-gyu’s waist, pressing lightly to keep him close.
When they finally pulled back, just a breath apart, neither spoke immediately. Their foreheads rested against each other for a moment, the echo of the kiss still buzzing between them.
“Nam-gyu, I…” Thanos looked down at his shoes.
Neither of them spoke, until Nam-gyu grabbed Thanos’s shoulders. Nam-gyu leaned in, their foreheads brushing first, then the gap closed, their lips meeting in a hungry, consuming kiss. It was urgent, rougher than before, hands gripping shoulders and waist as if anchoring themselves to each other. Thanos’s initial hesitation melted, fingers threading into Nam-gyu’s hair, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. The sharp tang of adrenaline, sweat, and something darker mingled, filling the small space between them.
When they finally broke apart, breathing heavy and foreheads still pressed together, Thanos’s usual confidence seemed muted. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and the ego that normally sat so heavily on his shoulders felt absent—he looked almost vulnerable in the way he stayed close, not pulling away.
“We probably shouldn’t have done that..” Nam-gyu turned away. He didn’t know how he should feel.