Salesman is a kid that is constantly sexually abused by his dad, isolated because of his trauma and unable to connect with his peers due to his queerness and being in poverty. Gihun, who is a young bisexual guy gets intrigued by Salesman, leading him to groom Salesman. They "start dating", and Salesman is the best boyfriend Gihun could ever ask for. He is cute, agrees with everything he suggests because he's desperate to please him and is so good at sex. Because he's isolated there are so many things he hasn't seen and Gihun as his hyung can show him, stuff like games and movies and cafes and all kinds of stuff, the wonder in the kid's eyes is worth it.
Salesman is absolutely in love with Gihun, needing the affection and attention he never got to experience in his life before. He gets to have fun around Gihun, learn things he can talk about with his friends. And Gihun's touch is oh so tender, nothing like how his dad is, especially not when they fuck.
I think eventually Gihun would adopt Salesman and "rescue him" from his dad. And having someone to take care of would be amazing for him, he'd finally get an actual job, cook himself and Salesman meals, even save up for Salesman's college.
I still have so much to talk about this au dunno if anyone wonders tho
remember inho’s flashbacks where il-nam hands him the knife and tells him to slit the other contestants throats? yeah my whump brain took that and ran straight off a cliff. what if the reason il-nam singled him out wasn’t because inho was necessarily stronger or smarter or special, but because the dorms had already started picking him apart. because word got out he used to be a cop and the others didn’t care what kind—just that he represented the system that failed them. what if they waited until the lights went out.
not one man. not two. five. six. more. what if they held inho down in his bunk while the lights were off and the walls did nothing to muffle the sound. what if inho fought the first time and got his ribs kicked in for it.
what if the guards stood there and watched. what if they laughed. what if they angled the cameras just right so the vips could have a better view later. what if inho started to disassociate so hard that he bit clean through his lip and didn’t even notice. what if someone held his arms. someone else held his legs. what if they took turns. what if he bled throughout all the games after putting him at a disadvantage.
what if inho tried to report it. tried to beg for help. and the staff just stared back through their black glass masks and said nothing.
and il-nam knew. of course he did.
because the vips were already asking about him. already watching the footage on repeat, sipping champagne while his body was passed from man to man like an object.
so when il-nam offered him that knife, it wasn’t salvation. it was conditioning: kill them, or let them keep using you. slit their throats, or lie back down.
and when inho took the mask, when he became the front man, that was the moment he stopped being human. not to them. he was property. something branded. owned. he was given a title, but he was never safe again. not really. because every time inho heard footsteps outside his door, he flinched. every time the vips returned, he knew they might request him.
because once your body is taken like that—in a pile, in the dark, with no way out—you don’t ever really get it back. they didn’t free him. they just let him keep walking. broken, obedient, hollow. and called it power.
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