Chapter 9: Eun-gyeol’s Proposal

“…Hey, Cha Eun-gyeol….”

In the end, Eun-gyeol had dropped a sweet yet devastating bomb.

The words that shook his heart made Han-geon blink rapidly.

Of course, it was an unbelievably tempting offer.

‘Cha Eun-gyeol’s bodyguard…’

It had always been what he dreamed of, yet it was a dream so distant—like a rainbow far out of reach.

Because of that, Han-geon had never dared covet the position or recklessly hope for it.

He had only ever quietly wished that someday he might stand in that place.

But now, that precious opportunity had suddenly come right to him.

And it was coming from Eun-gyeol himself.

He had a feeling such a chance would never come again.

Still, being a manager?

He had never once imagined it, and was simply stunned.

Han-geon didn’t really know what a manager actually did, nor did he have confidence.

But if it really was just following Eun-gyeol around and taking good care of him, like Eun-gyeol said—if it was only that…

“If doing both is too much for you, we can just get another manager later once you’ve filled in for a while.

After that, you can go back to being just my bodyguard.

Just until the team leader stops paying attention.

Okay?”

“…”

His heart was desperate to say yes, yet for some reason the words just wouldn’t come out.

Maybe it was only natural.

Even if it was the dream he’d always had, when a rainbow suddenly appears right before you with no warning, the first emotions that rise aren’t joy but bewilderment and confusion.

But Eun-gyeol pressed on, with a voice that could melt someone’s heart to the core.

“Han-geon.

If it’s not you, I’ll have to promote without a manager…”

“Hey, what are you talking about… there are tons of people besides me.”

“You know how it is.

Even if the team leader finds a new manager, none of them will ever satisfy me.

They’ll just get fired again anyway.

And then, like the team leader said, people might really start talking on community sites.

Look at that jerk who got fired today—he’ll probably go around posting all kinds of crap.”

He’d never cared about rumors on community sites before… Han-geon thought quietly but kept it to himself.

Just then, as he hesitated, long fingers slipped between his own.

“Han-geon…”

Their fingers interlocked deeply and firmly, and Han-geon’s hand reflexively tensed.

Even though it was the kind of gesture only lovers would normally do, Eun-gyeol’s expression remained utterly serious.

Truthfully, even if Eun-gyeol didn’t get a new manager right away, his reputation wouldn’t take any real hit.

The team leader and CEO had probably just scolded him to be more responsible; they likely didn’t literally mean he had to find a manager himself.

But seeing how persistently he was pushing it… this must have been a solution that appealed to him quite a lot.

“Hmm?

Han-geon.

You’ll do it for me, right?

You promised before—you said you’d be my bodyguard.”

“…You remember that?”

“Of course I do.

I never said anything until now because you seemed satisfied with your job at that company.

But now there’s no reason we can’t work together.”

More than anything, refusing Eun-gyeol as he gently held Han-geon’s hand like that was nearly impossible for him.

It had always been that way.

Han-geon was hopelessly weak to this beautiful face filling his field of vision.

A single note of Eun-gyeol’s voice, a glance tossed without meaning—each one had broken him down hundreds, thousands of times throughout his life.

But there was another reason—one far stronger—why it was so hard to refuse.

It was Eun-gyeol’s earnest plea, his genuine need for Han-geon.

It was the job and environment in which this precious person lived.

No matter how tightly the professionals built their security layers, the threats targeting Eun-gyeol always managed to seep through, trying to shatter or invade his safety and privacy.

The more Eun-gyeol rose as a top star, the higher the level of danger became.

There had been times when knives or other sharp weapons were delivered to the company or his home.

People would recklessly charge at him, trying anything to provoke him just to make contact.

In extreme cases, some even tried to leave knife-like wounds on him as “marks.”

And they didn’t even have to look far—had something not happened just a few days ago at the concert venue? Han-geon later heard from the police that the woman had dozens of fan letters and a knife hidden on her.

She tearfully confessed that she had only come to give him the letters.

But had she not gotten the reaction she wanted from Eun-gyeol, it wasn’t hard to imagine what she might have pulled out instead of the letters.

If he had been just a few seconds later grabbing her hand—
If he had spotted her only a little later—

Manager duties were one thing, but right now, Eun-gyeol’s security was far more urgent.

As soon as that thought surfaced, Han-geon’s chest tightened with frantic urgency.

Achieving his dream was important, of course—but even before that, if he didn’t protect Eun-gyeol with his own hands, he felt like he wouldn’t be able to live with the constant fear.

“…All right.”

In the end, those were the only words Han-geon could manage.

Even though it had taken him a long time to get those words out, Eun-gyeol’s face brightened instantly.

“But just so you know, I’m a bodyguard—you know that.

I won’t be good at manager work.

I’ll be much worse than the managers you’ve had before.

But if you’re okay with that…”

“Thank you, Han-geon.”

Han-geon’s words were cut off.

Eun-gyeol’s arms suddenly closed in, and before he realized it, his body was pulled into a tight embrace.

His heart thumped so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs.

“Hey… Ah, okay, but can you just—”

“How am I supposed to live without you, Han-geon?

I haven’t been able to my whole life.”

A sweet, coaxing voice slipped right into his ear.

Flustered, Han-geon twisted his body, trying to pull away, but the strong arms wrapped around him didn’t budge.

He could have pushed him off if he really wanted to, but for some reason all the strength had drained out of him, and he simply remained in Eun-gyeol’s hold.

Eun-gyeol often pulled mischievous tricks that made people’s hearts skip, and he never hesitated to initiate skinship that, from Han-geon’s perspective, sometimes felt downright dangerous.

But hugging him openly like this—this boldly—was rare.

Han-geon bit down on his lip, silently cursing his wildly pounding heart, but it was no use.

All he could do was pray it wouldn’t be noticed.

A sharp jaw brushed slowly against his shoulder.

A dizzyingly sweet scent grazed past his nose.

His earlobes were burning hot—it was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

“Move—dammit.

L–let go.”

“I’m just really happy, that’s all.

Ah… what a relief.”

Eun-gyeol held him like a child clutching a stuffed bear, and only after a long moment did he finally let Han-geon go.

His face burning a furious red, Han-geon hastily turned away to hide it.

“…I’m going to the bathroom.”

Using the bathroom as an excuse, Han-geon escaped and shut the door behind him.

The breath that had been trapped in his chest burst out all at once.

Only then did he realize that the tissue stained with his semen was still shoved carelessly inside his pants pocket.

He quickly stuffed it deep into the trash bin, washed his hands, and splashed cold water on his face.

The reflection staring back at him in the mirror was red as a ripe tomato.

What… what the hell is this….

— Han-geon-ah.

I’m heading out now.

He hadn’t even managed to calm his wildly pounding heart.

Startled by the voice coming from outside, Han-geon hastily wiped his face with a towel and opened the door.

“Huh? Why are you leaving already?”

“I need to stop by the company soon.

I just came to rest for a bit.”

Now that he looked, Eun-gyeol hadn’t even taken off his outerwear.

While putting on his shoes at the entrance, he waved lightly.

“Bye.

I’ll contact you tomorrow, Han-geon-ah.”

The way his eyes curved as he smiled softly looked like cherry blossoms blooming in spring.

Han-geon just stared blankly, mouth half open, unable to close it.

“…Y-yeah.

Call me.”

His reply came much too late.

Eun-gyeol gave a short laugh at Han-geon’s dazed expression, then opened the door and left without hesitation.

Sometimes, whenever Eun-gyeol smiles like that, it feels as though he knows everything in Han-geon’s heart.

Face heating up again, Han-geon rubbed both hands roughly over it.

Still, it felt like he was wandering inside a dream—everything unreal, everything hazy.

Come to think of it… why had Eun-gyeol come to his place when his work day wasn’t even over?

Eun-gyeol knew better than anyone that Han-geon’s work schedule was irregular—there was always a chance he wouldn’t even be home.

So then why had he come to an empty house? Wouldn’t he have been more comfortable resting at his own place?

He had no idea.

There was no room in his mind to worry about any of that right now.

The situation he was facing was far too shocking, far too overwhelming.

The more he thought about it, the less real it felt.

‘I’m really… I’m really Cha Eun-gyeol’s manager and bodyguard?’

Not just catching glimpses of him in short video clips during commutes, but actually spending twenty-four hours with him—being at his side for every moment of his life as an actor…?

All the things he’d wanted to do for Eun-gyeol—things far beyond getting him green-grape ade—things he’d always hesitated to do because they didn’t seem fitting for “just a friend”… now he could take care of him openly, officially, as part of his job.

“Ha… this can’t be real, can it…?”

Han-geon murmured without realizing it.

But in his trembling voice, the strongest emotions weren’t confusion, dizziness, or fear over whether he could handle a manager’s responsibilities for the first time.

Those feelings were certainly there—but overwhelmingly, shining clearly above them, was excitement.

Joy.

Euphoria.

“This is crazy…”

His solid, muscle-built body collapsed onto the sofa.

The nape of his neck, fully exposed beneath his neatly cropped hair, was flushed crimson, as were his ears—so hot it felt like they might burst.

Even as he exhaled rough, shaky breaths, the strange sensation of his heart trying to leap out of his chest simply wouldn’t settle.

So this is what people on the internet call being a “successful fan.” Living the dream.

To finally achieve the lifelong wish he’d carried—to protect Eun-gyeol.

Now wasn’t the time to be lying around.

Han-geon shot to his feet and switched on the TV.

He needed to learn at least something about what a manager actually does.

Come to think of it, wasn’t there a variety show where celebrities filmed with their managers, the managers wearing black T-shirts…? He should watch something like that.

No, this wasn’t enough.

Grabbing his phone, Han-geon quickly typed search terms into the browser: “manager duties,” “how to become a manager,” and so on.

He alternated busily between the TV screen and his phone screen, and despite himself, he kept humming under his breath.

Of course, he’d have to keep his feelings—those emotions he absolutely could never allow to be exposed as a friend—carefully hidden.

And yes, he wasn’t free from realistic worries about whether he could do this job well.

But after giving Eun-gyeol his answer, after saying he would take the job, all of those concerns were shoved to the back of his mind.

His heart felt so light and full it was almost unbearable.

Most of all, he was filled with pride and joy at the thought of protecting Eun-gyeol with his own hands.

He would make sure nothing like what happened a few days ago would ever threaten him again.

With his whole body, with his whole strength, he would protect the person he loved.

Resolving himself with that determination, Han-geon let a small smile spread across his face.