Fics like Of Hands and Hunger

“Come,” In-ho said. But Gihun didn’t move. So In-ho did. He crossed the tiled floor, hands steady, voice silent. He reached for the bloodied green jacket first and it slipped off with little resistance. That was easy, but now In-ho hesitated. He flexed his fingers, already regretting the gloves. The latex clung to his skin, made everything feel clinical. Still, he kept going. The shirt was next. Lifted over Gihun’s head. No resistance. Not even a flinch. Then the shoes. Socks. Then his trousers. Red-streaked fabric and dried blood peeled away from pale skin like old leaves. In-ho had thought about this before - about undressing him. He couldn’t even help thinking about it now. But not like this. He always pictured it with some kind of reaction. He’d imagined defiant screams or inviting sighs, maybe something else. A gasp, a challenge, anything alive. Not silence. Never silence. Or: In-ho pulls a silent Gihun out of the games after the rebellion and decides to keep him for himself. What begins as containment turns into something stranger when a baby born in the Games ends up in their care. A season 3 rewrite.

Fics like Of Hands and Hunger

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