This business trip was for an on-site inspection of a resort construction project on a West Sea island. Chairman Cheon Han-jo had long strived to reform the company’s image, once tied to old gang affiliations, for the sake of his daughter.
The resort project was part of that effort—a massive initiative he’d poured twenty years of planning and effort into.
It wasn’t just another private-sector construction—it was a government-backed tourism complex with deeply entangled interests.
Ha-jin didn’t know the details, but he did know the groundwork had been riddled with complications.
In short, they not only had to go to the ocean but out to an island as well. It was on the opposite coast from the East Sea where he’d once died, but the sea was the sea.
Urgh.
As they neared their destination, pushing through the early morning fog, the wide-open horizon came into view. The sunlight glittered off the waves, a dazzling sight—but Ha-jin felt a wave of nausea.
Part of it was from the constant tension on the way there.
“We’ll be arriving in about fifteen minutes.”
Driver Choi reported calmly from the front seat. At the same time, Tae-seong’s phone buzzed repeatedly—likely messages from his aides.
Finally, freed from holding hands, Ha-jin opened his bag. He rustled through it, pulled out sunscreen, and began slathering it on his face and arms.
Tae-seong stopped mid-message to openly stare.
The way the white cream spread over Ha-jin’s pale skin and the mess of tiny items stuffed into his bag caught Tae-seong’s interest.
“…I’ve got sensitive skin. I need to use this,” Ha-jin explained, flustered by the obvious staring. But Tae-seong didn’t reply—instead:
“I want some too.”
Putting his phone away, he leaned in.
Ha-jin hesitated. Could he share the cheap, buy-one-get-one sunscreen he’d picked up at a budget street shop?
Compared to the luxury brands stocked in Tae-seong’s powder room, this stuff was practically trash.
After a brief pause, Ha-jin reluctantly squeezed a tiny blob onto the back of Tae-seong’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“You might not like the scent or texture, so I just gave you a little…”
“I don’t like sticky hands.”
“Ah—then I’ll wipe it off for you.”
As Ha-jin reached for wet wipes, Tae-seong tapped his shoulder.
“‘Ah’ nothing. Just put it on me.”
Then, shamelessly, he closed his eyes.
“……”
The sun was blazing, and they had about ten minutes until they hit the coast.
Better hurry if he was going to do it. Ha-jin scooped the cream back off Tae-seong’s hand with his fingers.
Deep breath. Why was this so nerve-wracking?
Ha-jin carefully stroked a line of sunscreen along Tae-seong’s sharp cheek.
The moist, slightly tacky texture under his fingertips made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
His sharp features—closed eyes, sculpted nose—were so ridiculously beautiful it made Ha-jin anxious. Should I really be touching this?
He smoothed the product in with the pads of his middle and ring fingers, but it felt like he couldn’t even breathe properly. His ears began to burn.
Despite the awkward, inexperienced touch, the man who was so used to being pampered just sat there calmly, letting Ha-jin do as he pleased.
Not a single exhale was out of place. Truly nonchalant.
The only one uncomfortable and flustered was Ha-jin.
That Monday morning incident had left aftershocks only for him.
“A-All done. Ahem.”
Tae-seong’s brown eyes popped open, sparkling with life. It almost felt like he was silently asking, Do I look good?
Ha-jin nearly blurted, Yeah… you’re beautiful, but luckily, Tae-seong’s phone buzzed just in time to save him.
The island was connected to the mainland by a long bridge.
Even so, knowing they’d be staying overnight, Ha-jin made a beeline for a quiet corner of the parking lot as soon as they got out of the car.
He pulled out his phone and called his younger brother Yushin and Kwak Mari in turn, explaining the sudden trip and asking them to look after things.
As soon as the call ended, a text from Yushin came through.
[I’m really feeling better now. So don’t worry.]
He must have sensed Ha-jin’s lingering concern over the phone and sent the message to reassure him.
It helped that Kwak Mari had promised to stop by later, but something still felt off.
Ha-jin started typing another message to Mari when Tae-seong suddenly appeared behind him, casting a full-body shadow. Ha-jin flinched.
“Ack! You startled me!”
“Why so jumpy, Ha-jin? You do something wrong?”
“No! Anyone would jump if someone just popped up behind them like that.”
He gave a weak protest, but Tae-seong frowned and suddenly reached out—grabbing Ha-jin’s chin.
“W-What are you doing?”
“You’re bleeding. Here, on your cheek.”
Huh? Me?
Startled, Ha-jin turned to the nearest car window to check his reflection—and sure enough, a long smear of blood was on his white cheek.
Tae-seong clucked his tongue and grabbed Ha-jin’s phone.
Without asking, he ripped off the cracked screen protector with a series of sharp rips.
“You should’ve taken this off right away when it broke. That’s how you cut yourself.”
“I forgot, I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
The phone screen itself was shattered, not just the protector.
He’d dropped it the previous night in Tae-seong’s bedroom, and Kim Dae-hong had given it back to him later that evening.
He hadn’t even had time to be upset about the damage—his head had been full of worry over his sick brother.
He hadn’t even noticed the cut.
Ha-jin quickly reached into his bag for a band-aid, but Tae-seong snatched it before he could unwrap it.
“Give it here.”
He turned Ha-jin back around, pulled open the band-aid, and gently pressed it to his cheek.
The light tap-tap of his fingers made Ha-jin’s shoulders twitch from the ticklish sensation.
Getting touched and doing the touching felt completely different.
He ducked his head and quietly shoved the torn wrapper into a bag pocket. Tae-seong, silently watching the whole process, finally burst out laughing as Ha-jin even pulled out a hat to put on.
“What else you got in that bag? A whole house?”
He laughed long and loud, the kind that echoed in the air. It was enough to make the just-arrived Kim Dae-hong hesitate mid-step.
Ha-jin didn’t know what was so funny, but it was obvious he was the punchline. Doing his best to ignore it, he greeted Kim Dae-hong.
The island sky was as dazzling as Tae-seong’s laughter. Fluffy white clouds floated above bright green hills, the scenery almost too beautiful to look at. An old man with deeply tanned skin stepped out from between short, worn-down buildings to greet them.
In his previous life, Ha-jin had assumed he was just a rundown local grocer, but now he knew better. This was the village chief—a man who’d sold off 3,000 square meters of land for a fortune. They followed him toward the place they’d be staying.
Kim Dae-hong pulled a pair of sunglasses from his jacket and handed them to Tae-seong, who put them on without hesitation. Then, suddenly, he looked back at Ha-jin.
Now what?
“Ha-jin, don’t you have sunglasses in your bag?”
Unpredictable as ever. Ha-jin didn’t wait for him to finish the question.
“I’ve got a hat.”
“Yeah, I can see that from here.”
Tae-seong turned to Kim Dae-hong with a disapproving look and reached out.
“Dae-hong’s sturdy.”
That wiggling hand clearly meant Give me your sunglasses.
Wasn’t sunlight equally blinding to everyone? What kind of absurd logic was this? Ha-jin waved his hands in protest, not knowing what to do, but Tae-seong was relentless. He snatched the sunglasses from Kim Dae-hong and strode straight toward Ha-jin.
“Really, I don’t need—”
Before he could finish, the large, square sunglasses were plopped right onto his nose. And if that wasn’t enough, Tae-seong even reached for his ears to adjust them. Trying to check the fit, probably—but Ha-jin just stood frozen. The oversized sunglasses slipped halfway down his face as soon as Tae-seong let go.
“Dae-hong’s are too big for you. I should give you mine instead.”
“No, it’s fine, really.”
Ha-jin stepped back, but there was no escaping Tae-seong’s reach. His constant hovering, fiddling, putting glasses on and off—Ha-jin was getting dizzy. It was only after Tae-seong finally finished and flashed a satisfied smile that he turned back to the path. The village chief, who had been waiting, added with a chuckle,
“The view here’s just as nice at night when the moon’s out.”
The subtle jab made Ha-jin look up—only to see everyone’s eyes on him.
Secretaries, bodyguards, and staff from partner firms—all watching and waiting for Ha-jin to make a move. And the sour-faced Kim Dae-hong glaring at him? That was Ha-jin’s problem too. The oversized sunglasses that kept slipping down his nose? Bonus problem.
“We should get moving. We’re running late,” Kim Dae-hong grumbled, squinting into the sunlight as he shoved Ha-jin forward.
