Dirty Switch

Seo Baekhan, slipping off his jacket, turned to look at Joo Taehyun standing awkwardly in the threshold between the living room and bedroom.
We’re really going to do it just like that?
Taehyun was briefly thrown off by Baekhan’s unhesitating attitude.

Just because they were going to have sex on a bed decorated with rose petals in the shape of a heart didn’t mean anything would change between them. They weren’t real spouses. They weren’t lovers. With the objective so clear, of course the process would be kept simple and efficient. Why would Baekhan waste time on unnecessary frills?
Still… I don’t even slick up like an Omega unless I’m on Switch. What am I supposed to do? He didn’t actually know how to have sex with another man without it.
And yet, even in that moment, the idea of refusing penetration didn’t cross Joo Taehyun’s mind.

Ignoring the pheromone disorder caused by Switch usage was unthinkable. He was going to keep it a secret from Baekhan, of course—but he’d already involuntarily marked him. The most effective way to receive Baekhan’s pheromones was internal ejaculation. And…
Embarrassed by how intensely his thoughts were fixated on sex, Taehyun scratched the back of his neck and stepped into the bedroom.
“If you don’t like champagne, should I order something else?”

“Ah—n-no, it’s fine.”
He preferred sweet coffee, but his alcohol tastes ran bitter. Still, caught off guard, he blurted out a response that didn’t reflect that at all.
All Baekhan had done was hang his jacket over a chair and lean slightly forward to inspect the table. That was it. And yet, the way his shirt stretched taut across his frame made Taehyun feel like he was going to lose his mind. He hadn’t even taken his clothes off, so why did it already feel like Taehyun was doing something shameful?

Trying to look nonchalant, Taehyun followed suit and shrugged off his jacket, but his hands were trembling. The artificial lighting brushing against his feet was the only thing he could hope might hide how pathetic he looked right now.
If he stripped everything else away and left only one honest feeling—he wanted to hold him while fully conscious. That simple desire had made his heart flutter. Even though he knew all too well how miserable it could be to sleep with someone who felt nothing for you.
“The booze and snacks are way too sweet,” Baekhan said, sinking into the cushy one-seater sofa as he popped open the topmost button of his shirt.

“Well, not that it matters right now.”
“…Right.”
If it were Baekhan, he probably already knew exactly what Taehyun was thinking. Taehyun was fumbling his words like an idiot, flustered beyond reason, but Baekhan hadn’t rushed him. He’d even suggested they share a drink first instead of going straight for each other. That alone felt… kind.

Taehyun had gasped when he saw how over-the-top the bedroom looked, but honestly? His heart had fluttered. He’d felt happy.
It almost felt like they were a real couple.
***
“You’re saying I actually said that?”

“You did.”
Two bottles of champagne now lay empty on the floor. The table had become a graveyard of whiskey bottles pulled at random from the minibar.
Neither of them was a lightweight. But Taehyun had definitely gotten drunk on the mood itself. As for Baekhan… well, maybe he was just humoring him. Maybe he wanted to observe what Taehyun was like when tipsy for the first time.

Taehyun didn’t care anymore. He didn’t want to analyze anything. This might be the first and last time. He just wanted to live in this moment.
“You tilted the champagne glass like this and said, ‘I really shouldn’t be this narrow-sighted.’”
“…God, I said that in front of a kid?”

When the story of the Haechi founding ceremony came up, Baekhan groaned and pretended to cover his ears. Seeing even the great Seo Baekhan get embarrassed over his past was a surprise—and kind of adorable.
‘It was after our marriage talks started. Gukwon hyung actually came all the way to Pyongyang once.’
Now that he thought about it… how did they end up swapping these silly old stories? Probably when Baekhan poured the champagne and casually dropped that line.

‘Gukwon hyung?’
‘Yeah. He came alone. Left the other brothers behind.’
Recalling the visit seemed to make Baekhan uncomfortable. His eyes shifted as if bracing for a punch.

‘That might’ve been the first time I seriously thought I could die drinking.’
Taehyun had never heard that before.
Starting from there, Baekhan shared a handful of little stories. They weren’t major. Some of them Taehyun had already seen on SNS, others had been distributed with DH Group’s PR team’s approval or circulated by the assemblyman’s office.

Did Baekhan forget that?
No. Definitely not.
This was his way of opening a very personal part of himself to Taehyun. It was permission—I’ll bite and devour you as I please, but you’re allowed to step into this space of mine too.

That kind of exchange—equal and mutual—made Taehyun happier than he could bear. The matter of the one-sided marking could wait. For now, he just wanted to savor this brief good fortune while it lasted.
“I think I was holding myself too stiffly back then. Always worried about how I looked to others.”
He took another sip of alcohol. “I don’t regret it—I worked hard in my own way. But still.”

Baekhan smiled like he was embarrassed by the pompous attitude of his younger self. Taehyun shook his head, quietly disapproving, and filled his empty glass with ice. The ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) liquor tasted dangerously sweet tonight. He wanted to down it straight, but he knew he’d get too drunk if he did.
“No, not at all.”
Baekhan had sparkled back then too.

He’d made Taehyun question what kind of person he wanted to be—not as the DH Group heir, but as himself.
Taehyun had tasted every emotion—sweet, bitter, painful—because of Baekhan. And because of that, his dull, colorless youth had been painted in every imaginable hue.
Only Seo Baekhan.

Only he shone that brightly in Joo Taehyun’s eyes.
“…And I thought that version of you was cool.”
“Haha. Really?”

“Yes. Seeing someone move toward a clear goal—I realized for the first time that could be a beautiful thing. Watching you made me wonder how I wanted to live.”
As Taehyun chattered away, pouring drinks almost to the brim, he finally glanced at Baekhan’s expression.
…Wait. That wasn’t too much, was it?

Saying someone’s cool or admirable—that’s something even friends can say, he told himself, popping a chocolate-covered strawberry into his mouth like a distraction. He just hoped his words didn’t come off as too loaded.
Baekhan, for his part, didn’t seem too affected. He kept pouring his drink. The last of the minibar alcohol was nearly gone, and Taehyun was about to ask if they should order more via room service, when—
“You know, I always thought you liked me because of my face.”

“Cough!”
That hit hard. The chocolate cracked between his teeth and got stuck in his throat. Taehyun scrambled for his drink and took a gulp—only to be scorched by the alcohol, coughing harder.
When he finally looked up, eyes red and watery, Baekhan was watching him with an unreadable half-smile.

“…Hyung, that’s—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t like me now.”
“Hyung. I really—”

“It’s all old news, isn’t it.”
It felt like he’d swallowed fire. His insides were burning.
That day—when he’d confessed to Baekhan. The way he’d looked at him. His voice. The mood. All of it came crashing back.

Taehyun had thought he’d moved on. But he hadn’t.
He’d just buried it deep and pretended to forget.
“Taehyun.”

Just as he was about to drown in those memories, Baekhan set his glass down and beckoned with a flick of his fingers.
“…Yes? Ah, yes!”
Taehyun leapt to his feet like an idiot. Baekhan looked at him like, Why are you being so dramatic? But Taehyun was grateful. Anything to escape the pit of that humiliating old confession.

“…Hyung?”
Before he could reach him, Baekhan suddenly rose from his seat. A looming shadow engulfed Taehyun like a wave crashing down.
He’d always known Baekhan was a bit taller and broader—but he felt enormous right now.

Startled, Taehyun stepped back—and bumped into something. A sofa bed, placed by the window, angled slightly differently from the one in the living room.
Even knowing Taehyun had nowhere else to go, Baekhan advanced without hesitation. His imposing presence pushed him back until Taehyun sank into the sofa bed.
“If this were just a one-time rut, I’d treat it like before—just mechanical. But it’s not, anymore.”

His voice murmured low and close, right in front of him.
Taehyun stared at his chest, forgetting how to breathe. Maybe it was the stark white shirt glowing under the chandelier, but his vision sizzled and blurred as if about to go blind.
“I don’t want to keep doing sex that feels like self-harm.”

“But… you… don’t want this, hyung. And I’m… I’m a man—”
“If there’s something that needs to be done, you do it. That’s what being an adult means.”
“And people who wear name tags in government are especially good at adapting,” Baekhan added dryly, lightly gripping Taehyun’s chin.

His mouth curved just enough to show he meant it as a joke—but Taehyun had no room to laugh back.
Baekhan’s lips, still wet from alcohol, brushed gently over his. Too soft to be called a kiss.
He lightly tapped against the corner of Taehyun’s mouth and the tip of his nose a few times before catching his lower lip, sucking just the inner part, and letting it go. The slick sound it made—pop—was absurdly cute for the moment.

“I was curious how far I could go too… but this at least, works.”
Baekhan’s thumb traced along Taehyun’s lower lip. The tender inner skin peeked out slightly, and his touch lingered on one spot in particular.
That spot—he’d once teased Taehyun about it before.

The spot he hadn’t even known was there until Baekhan pointed it out.
The one he’d called obscenely sensitive.