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It’s a little past two in the morning when Jung-bae notices Gi-hun struggling to keep his eyes open. They’ve been keeping watch tonight for a little while now, and Gi-hun must be exhausted from… well, everything.
It irritates Jung-bae a bit, considering he’s not the only player here who’s exhausted and starved, but he quickly swallows the emotion when he realises they need Gi-hun the most, out of everyone. If they want to keep the players safe and informed, then it’d be no good for him to miss out on sleep.
“Gi-hun,” Jung-bae whispers, careful not to wake the sleeping companions they guard, “if you’re falling asleep, you should switch.” He gently nudges Gi-hun’s side with his elbow, which startles the man wide awake, his eyes flying open.
“Wha…?” he stammers, disoriented. “I’m awake, I’m awake!”
Jung-bae can’t help but laugh a little at his buddy’s animated reaction, and shakes his head. “Clearly not, man. I heard you snore and everything,” he teases, which causes Gi-hun’s cheeks to glow red with embarrassment. It’s not entirely true, but he doesn’t need to know that. The older man averts his eyes and scoffs, a hint of amusement clear in his voice.
“C’mon, go sleep. We need you to be clear up there in the morning,” Jung-bae insists.
“Alright, alright… You’ve been really nagging me about my health the past few days. What are you, my wife?” Gi-hun mutters, the corners of his lips curling up into a sheepish grin that betrays the forced exasperation with which he speaks. Another hearty chuckle bubbles up in Jung-bae’s chest, but he swallows it down by inhaling sharply and simply smiling back at him. They shouldn’t wake the others, after all.
“You two are still awake?”
The sudden whisper makes both of the men flinch. They turn around, towards the source of the sound, and watch wide-eyed as Young-il slowly steps out of the shadows cast by the light above them, his soles shuffling audibly against the vinyl floor.
When they recognise him, Jung-bae and Gi-hun let out a collective sigh of relief. “Man,” the former chastises, “don’t sneak up on people like that! Do it to the wrong guy, and you’ll get clobbered or something.”
Jung-bae is rewarded with a lopsided grin that forms on Young-il’s face as he raises his hands. “I can defend myself,” he soothes, “there’s no need to worry about me.”
He’s sure the guy means it, but his voice carries a slight mocking tone that makes Jung-bae roll his eyes. “Just… Make yourself known before you speak up and scare the living hell out of us, okay? Anyway, Gi-hun was just about to switch with someone. Right?”
Gi-hun nods as he rises to his feet, awkwardly gesturing towards Young-il. “I’m sorry about this, but… Since you’re awake anyway, would you mind if…?”
“I don’t mind,” Young-il interrupts, now directing his attention solely at Gi-hun, his smirk shifting into a softer smile when their eyes meet. “You need to rest. Jung-bae and I can take over from here. Goodnight,” he says, giving the taller man a firm pat on his shoulder as he steps down the stairs toward Jung-bae.
The tenderness of the gesture causes a light to sparkle in Gi-hun’s eyes, Jung-bae notes. He bids both men goodnight, and with that, he’s gone, shuffling towards his bed sleepily.
Young-il lowers himself onto the step where Gi-hun was sitting previously, clasping his hands together and staring out in front of him, seemingly at nothing in particular. Jung-bae shifts awkwardly to make room for him.
The silence is suffocating, and Jung-bae isn’t sure what to say to make this arrangement less excruciatingly uncomfortable. Somewhere, he was hoping Dae-ho would have been awake to keep him company for the remainder of his “shift”; they got on well and shared quite a few interests, it turned out, so that would’ve made time pass quicker. But Young-il…
Jung-bae can’t read him very well.
That, and he feels guilty. First and foremost, for voting to continue these dreadful games despite knowing how much his friends are affected by them… And for the childish remark he’d made during the game earlier, about the spinning top. About how it would eat up their time trying to recover the stupid thing if Young-il were to mess up. Maybe if he hadn’t said that, Young-il would have been able to get it right on his first try?
“Hey, Young-il,” he finally whispers, the sound of his voice way too loud in the silence permeating the dormitory. The other man snaps out of his trance and turns to face him, a questioning look on his face. He doesn’t respond, instead giving him a slight nod as if to say, “go on?”.
“Well…” Jung-bae stutters, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “About earlier… During the game, I mean—Did you mess up because of my comment?”
Young-il blinks once, twice, his expression morphing into a look of confusion, and Jung-bae really wishes he’d just not said anything. Those intense eyes on him give him the shivers.
…But his anxiety washes away quickly when Young-il starts snickering. There’s a slight devious tone to his laugh, and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes when they make eye-contact. “Are you really blaming yourself for that?” he asks.
Jung-bae shrugs, unsure of why he’s laughing at all. “I mean… If I hadn’t said that, maybe you wouldn’t have been so nervous, and you’d have cleared it sooner...”
Thankfully, Young-il is swift in providing an answer to his uncertainty: “That first failure…” he starts, trailing off to look down at his feet, a hint of something akin to guilt visible in the smile on his face. “I failed on purpose the first time, just to mess with you,” he admits, letting out another soft chuckle when he looks up and sees the indignant look on Jung-bae’s face.
The nerve of this guy!
He’s lucky they’re supposed to be quiet; Jung-bae isn’t normally the type to anger quickly, instead preferring to soothe and mediate and avoid conflict. But he is an emotional guy, and if he’s really mad, he’ll show it, damn it. “Are you kidding me?” he hisses, softly hitting Young-il’s shoulder with a muffled thud. “You nearly made me shit myself back there, you know!”
This information only seems to embolden Young-il, who laughs more when Jung-bae’s hand makes contact with the fabric of his jacket a second time. “I’m sorry!” he yelps, seemingly unbothered, and the half-hearted apology makes Jung-bae lower his arm with a huff. He puts a finger to his lips instead.
“If it makes you feel better,” Young-il mumbles, lowering his volume in response, “the stunt I pulled did actually genuinely make me nervous. That’s why I failed all the other times.” There’s a look of embarrassment on his face that makes Jung-bae want to forgive him instantly. He can’t stay mad at him when he’s already been punished for his little “joke”. After all, the pressure during the game must have been immense, if Young-il’s outburst was anything to go by.
A small part of him still feels like it’s karmic justice, but Jung-bae chooses to shove that thought aside. Thinking that way about a friend is a shitty thing to do, and Jung-bae isn’t a shitty friend…
…At least, he hopes he isn’t. The memory of their earlier vote makes his heart ache.
“I’m sorry, man,” he says instead. “I shouldn’t have said that thing about the spinning top.”
Young-il shrugs, and he averts his gaze for a short moment, staring at the illuminated X and O symbols on the floor. “It’s alright. You wouldn’t have felt the need to retaliate if I hadn’t said anything about the tossing stone.”
When he turns back to look at Jung-bae with a gentle smile, the pain in Jung-bae’s heart makes way for the feeling of relief that washes over him. “I’m sorry, too,” says Young-il.
Jung-bae nods, and finally grins back at him.
“Let’s do our best again tomorrow. I’m counting on you to not pull anything funny again!”