Chapter Text
Hyuntak woke up to a ceiling that was wrong.
Not just slightly off— the ceiling was completely, disturbingly white. His ceiling at home was dark brown, the kind of stained wood that had seen better decades. He shot up so fast his vision blurred, hair sticking up in every direction from thrashing around in his sleep.
Then he saw who was beside him, and his brain short-circuited.
"WHAT THE HELL, KEUM SEONGJE?"
Seongje's eyes snapped open at the volume. He blinked once, twice, then raised an eyebrow like Hyuntak was the one being unreasonable.
"Why are you screaming, Go Hyuntak—" He stopped. Sat up straighter. "WAIT, WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?"
He scrambled backward so fast he nearly fell off the bed. He quickly put his glasses on. But when he actually looked around, the confusion on his face shifted into something more genuine.
This wasn't his room.
His room was never this clean. There was no lingering smell of cigarette smoke, no overflowing ashtray, no pile of clothes slowly evolving into its own ecosystem. He grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at Hyuntak's face.
"Did you kidnap me? What the fuck, Go Hyuntak, I didn't know you were—"
The radio crackled to life.
Loud. Sharp. The kind of frequency that made your teeth ache.
"Welcome to Room Number 9. Participants Keum Seongje, Go Hyuntak, please listen carefully to the following rules."
They both turned to look at it. Neither of them remembered seeing it before.
“
The room cannot be forced open. If the participants try, they will get an electric shock which will get stronger each strike
he participants need to stay for 5 days inside this room, each day completing a mission
The mission will consist of 2 choices. The participants can complete either one.
If the participants refuse to complete the mission, one of the participants will be electrocuted to death.
“
A pause. Then, almost cheerfully:
"Good luck."
The radio went silent.
Hyuntak stared at it like it had personally insulted his entire bloodline. His brain had stopped processing somewhere around the second rule. All he could think was: Five days. Same room. Seongje.
"It's so stupid," he finally said. "Did you pull this prank? It's not funny. I have a basketball match in one week, I need to train every day, so for fuck's sake—"
Seongje's fist connected with his face before he could finish.
Hyuntak's head snapped to the side. The impact radiated through his cheekbone, hot and immediate.
"What the fuck was that?"
His voice came out low. Dangerous. The fury that had been simmering since he woke up just found its target.
Hyuntak threw a punch back. It landed square in Seongje's stomach.
Seongje let out a choked gasp, doubling over—but instead of getting angry, he looked up with this slow, taunting smile that made Hyuntak want to hit him again. His eyes were bright, almost feverish. He stumbled back a step, clutching his midsection, then swung wild.
The punch caught Hyuntak right on the jaw.
His teeth clacked together. Pain shot through his skull. He could already feel the bruise blooming along his cheekbone, deep and purple, as he shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears.
"You're going to regret that, Seongje."
Hyuntak lunged. His next punch wasn't about form or technique—it was about making Seongje hurt the way his face hurt right now. The blow grazed Seongje's arm, barely glancing off.
Seongje didn't even flinch. Just let out this low snicker that made Hyuntak's blood boil.
"Cute," he said, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for practice. The skin above his elbow was already swelling, but he looked almost amused by it.
Hyuntak shifted into a taekwondo stance. Left leg back, right leg forward, weight balanced—but the moment he put pressure on his left side, his knee gave that familiar, sickening twinge. He covered the stumble quickly, but not quickly enough.
Seongje noticed.
That smirk widened into something cruel.
"Knee still giving you trouble?"
He dodged Hyuntak's next punch—a glancing blow to the shoulder that made him wince but didn't stop him. Then he rushed forward, closing the distance before Hyuntak could react, and shoved him backward until his spine hit the wall with a dull thud.
"Get off me, you maniac." Hyuntak shoved his chest.
Seongje didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in closer, teeth bared in a grin.
"Make me."
Hyuntak gathered every ounce of strength he had and pushed. Seongje let out a surprised yelp as he went stumbling backward, and Hyuntak tackled him before he could recover. They crashed to the floor together—Seongje's hip taking the worst of it. He hissed through his teeth, already feeling the bruise forming deep in the muscle.
"Not bad," he said, still grinning. "My playmate finally learned how to fight."
Then, before the blink of an eye, Seongje was on top of him.
He threw an elbow that caught Hyuntak just below the eye. The area swelled instantly, hot and tender.
"Urgh—"
Hyuntak somehow managed to lock him in a headlock, arm wrapped tight around his throat, but Seongje's strength was ridiculous. He freed one arm without even seeming to struggle and delivered a crushing punch straight to Hyuntak's ribs.
The pain was immediate and blinding.
Sharp. Searing. Hyuntak felt something crack—not bone, maybe, but close. Another bruise blooming across his side, dark and spreading. He gasped, and his grip loosened just enough.
Seongje pulled back while looking down at him. His face was flushed, adrenaline making his eyes too bright, his breathing hard and uneven.
"Had enough?" he asked.
Hyuntak was about to kick him in the shin when the radio beeped.
"Congratulations on completing your mission for today."
They both froze.
Hyuntak's leg dropped back to the floor. Seongje's weight lifted off him as he sat back on his heels. They turned to look at the screen beside the radio—the one neither of them had noticed before.
Day 1 Mission:
Option A: Remain in physical contact with each other for 10 consecutive minutes
Option B: Create 3 visible bruises on Go Hyuntak's body
Hyuntak looked down at himself. His ribs. His cheek. His jaw. He was pretty sure there were at least four bruises already, and those were just the ones he could see.
Seongje burst out laughing.
Hyuntak rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck that way.
A drawer slid open on the right side of the radio. Seongje got up and walked over, still chuckling to himself. Inside: two portions of food, two bottles of water, two blankets, and a small stack of ice packs.
"At least they were nice enough to provide ice packs," Hyuntak muttered. He snatched them from the drawer and pressed one against his cheek, hissing at the cold.
Seongje clicked his tongue. "Careful, Hyuntak. You'll bruise even more if you move too fast."
"Shut up."
Hyuntak sank back against the wall, ice pack pressed to his ribs now. His whole body ached. His jaw throbbed. His pride was bruised worse than anything else.
Across from him, Seongje looked annoyingly fine. There was a purple mark blooming on his shoulder from where Hyuntak had punched him earlier, and a welt on his arm, but he carried himself like he'd just finished a light warm-up.
Seongje crouched by the drawer and inspected the rest of the supplies. "Two lunch boxes. Toothbrushes. Looks like they really expect us to stay here."
"Don't say that like you're excited."
Seongje grinned. "Five whole days trapped with you? Sounds fun."
"Fun my ass."
Hyuntak threw an ice pack at his head. Seongje caught it one-handed without even looking.
"Aww." He tossed it lightly in the air. "You're sharing with me? Even though I don't really need them. Appreciate it!"
"I'm trying to shut you up."
"Same thing."
Hyuntak groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. For the first time since waking up, he actually looked around.
The room was unnervingly plain. White walls, white ceiling, white floor. A single bed shoved against one wall—small, maybe a twin, definitely not big enough for two people. A metal door with no handle, no hinges, no visible seams. One radio. One digital screen. No windows. No vents. No cameras that he could see.
The only color in the room came from the bruises on their bodies.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Hyuntak broke the silence.
"Do you think it's real?"
Seongje looked up.
"The electrocution thing?"
Hyuntak swallowed. "Yeah."
He hated how uncertain his voice sounded. He was still trying to convince himself this was some elaborate prank—something that would be explained any second now by Baku jumping out from behind a wall with a camera.
Seongje didn't answer right away. He just stared at the door for a while, then walked over to it. Extended one finger. Touched the surface.
Nothing happened.
Then he curled his fist and slammed it against the metal.
Electricity cracked through the room—blue-white and violent. Seongje stumbled backward with a strangled swear, body jerking from the shock, hand clutched to his chest.
Hyuntak was on his feet before he knew what he was doing. "You alright?"
Seongje blinked at him. For a second, his expression was unguarded—surprised, almost soft.
Then the smirk came back.
"Aww. You cared about me again."
Hyuntak's face went dark. "I hope your hand falls off."
Seongje flexed his fingers experimentally. "Unfortunately for you, I'm perfectly fine."
Hyuntak sank back to the floor and dragged a hand through his hair. The motion made his ribs ache. "So this is real."
"For now, we should assume it is." Seongje sat down across from him, the grin fading into something more thoughtful.
"Great." Hyuntak laughed bitterly. "Kidnapped by some psycho game master and trapped with the most irritating person possible."
"I'm the most irritating?" Seongje placed a hand over his chest in a dramatic manner. "I'm touched."
Hyuntak ignored him.
For a while, the only sound was the crinkle of food wrappers and their own breathing.
Eventually, Hyuntak spoke again. "The mission options are weird."
Seongje looked at him over his water bottle.
"We could either stay in contact for ten minutes," Hyuntak said slowly, "or make three bruises on me."
"And?"
"And that's oddly specific."
Seongje tilted his head. "Maybe they know us."
The words hung in the air.
"What do you mean?"
Seongje shrugged. "Think about it. Whoever put us here didn't pick random people. They gave us two options." He held up two fingers. "One peaceful. One violent."
He let the implication settle.
"And they probably knew exactly which one we'd choose."
Hyuntak stared at him. The logic made an uncomfortable amount of sense. He looked down at the bruises spreading across his arms and torso—dark, ugly, still throbbing.
"So this whole thing is some kind of experiment?"
"Maybe."
"To test what?"
Seongje's eyes glinted. "How predictable we are."
Hyuntak scoffed. "Well, congratulations. We passed by beating the shit out of each other."
Seongje laughed quietly. "Actually, it was just me beating you up."
"Keum Seongje."
"Sorry, sorry."
Hyuntak threw his empty water bottle at him. Seongje caught it, obviously.
"You're insufferable."
"Tell me something I don't know."
The silence that followed was different. Less hostile. Less like two animals circling each other and more like two people trying to figure out the same impossible situation.
Hyuntak shifted, suppressing a hiss when his ribs protested. "Do you think every mission will be like this?"
"Probably."
"Meaning what?"
Seongje twirled the bottle cap between his fingers. "One option will be us cooperating. The other will be us beating each other up."
Hyuntak crossed his arms, then immediately uncrossed them when his ribs screamed at him. "So we're stuck here for five days."
Seongje's smirk returned, but it was softer this time. "Avoiding developing feelings yea"
Hyuntak froze.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Seongje's grin widened. He'd found something. "Oh? Did I hit a nerve?"
"You're talking nonsense."
"Hm. Whatever you say."
Hyuntak stood up abruptly. The movement made his head spin. "Don't start your weird psycho bullshit."
"Oh? Rage baited in under five seconds. New record."
Hyuntak clenched his fists. His knuckles were already raw from the fight. For a long moment, he considered swinging again—just to wipe that look off Seongje's face.
Then he forced himself to sit back down.
"No," he muttered. "I'm not wasting more energy fighting you."
Seongje raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Growth. Right there."
"Shut up."
They spent the next hour searching every inch of the room.
They checked the walls for seams. They looked under the bed. They examined the radio and the screen. They counted the ceiling tiles. They even pressed their ears to the floor, listening for anything beneath them.
Nothing.
No hidden cameras. No vents. No panels. No way out.
Eventually, exhausted, they sat side by side against the wall. Not touching—but close enough that Hyuntak could feel Seongje's body heat through his sleeve.
"This is insane," Hyuntak murmured.
"Mm."
"What if we can't get out after five days?"
Seongje was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was serious in a way Hyuntak rarely heard.
"We'll get out."
Hyuntak glanced at him.
No smirk. No teasing. No taunting.
Just certainty.
For some reason, that calmed him more than he wanted to admit.
The digital screen flickered.
23:47
Day 1 is almost over.
Seongje stretched and stood up. "Well," he said, grabbing one of the blankets, "I call the bed."
Hyuntak stared at him. "Absolutely not."
Seongje grinned, his usual expression snapping back into place. "Then I guess we'll have to fight for it."
Hyuntak grabbed the remaining ice pack and threw it at his face.
Seongje caught it. "Your aim's not getting better," he said, tossing it onto the bed.
Hyuntak stood with his arms crossed, bruised and exhausted but still glaring like he was ready for round two. "I'm not sharing a bed with you."
"Then where are you planning to sleep? The floor?"
"Yes."
"That's stupid."
"Says the guy who thought punching a metal door and getting electrocuted was a good idea."
Seongje flexed his hand. "I needed to test the rules."
"You needed to show off."
Seongje's lips curved. "And you were worried about me."
Hyuntak felt heat crawl up his neck. "I was making sure you didn't die so I wouldn't have to complete those missions with a corpse."
"Sure."
"Shut up."
Seongje flopped onto the bed like he owned it, stretching out dramatically. The mattress creaked under his weight. "Looks like there's room for one and a half people."
Hyuntak ignored him and simply grabbed a blanket, then spreading it on the floor. "I hope tomorrow's mission is 'make fifteen visible bruises on Seongje.'"
Seongje laughed. "Then we'll have to choose the other mission, because there's no way you're landing fifteen hits on me."
Silence settled over the room.
The white ceiling seemed to glow in the darkness, even though there was no visible light source. Hyuntak lay on the hard floor, every bruise throbbing in time with his heartbeat. His ribs hurt when he breathed. His knee ached from the fight. His jaw was tender.
On the bed, Seongje shifted.
Then, after several minutes, he sat up. "You should take the bed."
Hyuntak frowned. "What?"
"You're injured."
"You did most of the injuring."
"Exactly."
Hyuntak stared at the underside of the bed frame. "Why are you suddenly acting nice?"
Seongje was quiet for a moment.
"I'm not."
Another pause. Then, softer: "You have that basketball match."
Hyuntak's chest tightened.
He didn't know what to say to that. Seongje remembering something like that—something that mattered to Hyuntak—felt weirdly intimate in a way he wasn't prepared for.
Before he could respond, Seongje's teasing tone returned. "Besides, if you sleep on the floor, you'll probably wake up even crankier than today. And I honestly don't think I can survive that."
Hyuntak snorted. "Move over."
Seongje's smirk was visible even in the dark. "Knew you couldn't resist me."
"Say one more word and I'm kicking you off."
They squeezed onto the narrow bed, shoulders pressing together because there was literally no other option. Hyuntak lay stiff as a board, every muscle tense, carefully not touching more than necessary.
Seongje, of course, looked perfectly comfortable. Eyes already closed. Breathing steady.
Neither of them spoke.
Hyuntak could hear Seongje's breathing beside him—warm, close, steady. It should have been unbearable. It should have made his skin crawl.
Instead, it was strangely reassuring.
Just as Hyuntak started to drift off, Seongje's voice broke the silence.
"Who do you think put us here?"
Hyuntak kept his eyes closed. "I don't know."
"Do you think it's Na Baekjin?"
"Maybe."
Seongje shifted slightly. The movement made their shoulders brush.
"Hmm," he said, voice unusually thoughtful, "maybe whoever made this room thinks there's something between us."
Hyuntak's eyes snapped open.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Seongje laughed quietly. "That's the reaction I was waiting for."
"You're unbelievable."
"And you didn't deny it either."
Hyuntak turned onto his side—facing away from him. "Go to sleep, Seongje."
Seongje hummed, clearly satisfied with himself.
A few minutes later, Hyuntak heard his breathing deepen.
He was asleep.
Hyuntak remained awake much longer.
His bruises hurt. His mind raced. And Seongje's words kept echoing in his head, over and over.
‘Whoever made this room thinks there's something between us.’
"That's ridiculous," he whispered to himself.
Beside him, Seongje stirred in his sleep and shifted closer. His shoulder pressed firmly against Hyuntak's back. Warm. Solid.
Hyuntak froze. But he didn't move away.
Inside Room Number 9, Day 1 finally came to an end. Above the radio, the digital screen flickered once before displaying a new message.
“Day 2 mission will be shown at 8:00 AM.”