Dirty Switch

"I'm sorry I'm late, hyung."

Joo Taehyun bowed slightly again, apologizing once more, a trace of the cold from outside still clinging to him.
"There was a jam right in front of the place."
"It’s fine. I just got here myself."

Seo Baekhan leisurely looked over Joo Taehyun as he strode up to the table. He’d seen occasional pictures in the news, so he was aware that the once-small kid had grown a lot—but seeing him in person now made it feel strangely real.
Back when Taehyun was younger, he’d been more on the cute and pretty side. His frame had been so slender that he’d practically swum in the Haechi group uniform, if Baekhan remembered correctly. But now, words like "handsome" or "striking" suited him more than "pretty"—he’d grown up tall.
"You really did grow a lot. How tall are you?"

"Uh… I think just under 180."
Taehyun quickly unwound his scarf and shrugged off his coat. His long fingers were bright red from the cold, and somehow, that made him look younger. Then again, he had just turned twenty this year. He might be tall now, but he was still just a kid.
Sure enough, the snowflakes that had powdered his hair like sugar had already melted away without a trace. His body heat was still high—definitely still a kid.

"Is it still snowing a lot out there?"
"Yes."
When Baekhan gestured with a tilt of his chin, Taehyun obediently took the seat across from him. The way he responded so promptly and respectfully—it was like watching a well-trained pet, something like a purebred dog with sleek, flawless fur.

"I already ordered something to drink. Hope that’s okay."
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
Taehyun replied politely but didn’t reach for the glass. It was just a basic iced Americano, but it didn’t seem to suit the kid’s taste.

Not that it mattered. They hadn’t met to sip coffee and chat about pleasant things, after all.
"Have you been doing well?"
Pretending not to notice the way Taehyun kept picking up and putting down his cup, Baekhan chose a safe, standard greeting.

The truth was, Baekhan preferred people who clearly expressed their opinions. Whether it was friends or lovers, he hated having hazy, indecisive people around him. If you couldn’t be direct, then at least you had to be a convincing enough actor to fool others.
But in any case, Joo Taehyun wasn’t someone who would ever really be part of his world. A child born with a diamond spoon in his mouth, raised on nothing but the finest things—critiquing the social skills of someone like that just «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» felt petty.
"Well… I’ve been the same as always. How about you, hyung?"
"I just wrapped up my thesis, so life’s finally calming down. You said you enrolled early, right?"

"Yes."
"Washington, though? That was unexpected. Are you interested in politics?"
"Not really."

The conversation remained formal and stiff, with Taehyun sticking to short answers. It was oddly cold for someone who had asked to meet, supposedly because he needed help. Still, Baekhan hadn’t planned to give this meeting too much of his time anyway, so he didn’t mind.
"But hey, Taehyun."
"Yes?"

"Shouldn’t you be a little happier to see me?"
"…Sorry?"
Even so, Baekhan had no intention of indulging a fresh-faced kid who acted like he didn’t need a thing.

"You know how packed my schedule is whenever I come back to Korea, right? I had to shift a ton of things around just to make time for this."
"Ah… r-right. I know. Um… Thank you for making time, hyung."
Watching the sharp bob of Taehyun’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, Baekhan gave a brief, satisfied smile.

"I was curious too, so I came out. No need to thank me—just… maybe show a little more warmth to your hyung."
"Yes, I will. …Sorry."
Baekhan answered by keeping his gaze fixed, lips touching the rim of his coffee cup.

Fortunately, Taehyun seemed to catch on to what Baekhan meant. He awkwardly added, "You probably already know this, but… I’m not great with people…" trailing off, fumbling over his words.
Usually, Baekhan couldn’t stand having someone above him in any situation—but he didn’t go out of his way to be cold to kids either. That kind of behavior was just tacky.
But that was only when the kid in question was a normal, twenty-year-old college student.

‘You free that day?’
— Yes.
‘You know who you’re talking to, right?’

— Yes, Baekhan-hyung. I contacted you on purpose.
‘Hmm. What’s this about?’
— …I don’t think it’s something I can say over the phone.

The precious youngest son of the DH Group had personally asked to meet the eldest son of Representative Seo Hong-gyu, saying he wanted advice on a family issue. From that moment on, every breath between them had become part of a calculated negotiation.
"Oh. Just to say this in advance—if you’re about to ask me for help with some tax investigation or something—"
"Absolutely not!"

Trying to lighten the frozen mood with a joking tone, Baekhan watched Taehyun’s eyes go wide. His mouth fell open, hands waving in protest—just like when he was a little kid whose head barely reached Baekhan’s waist.
"Definitely, absolutely not. It’s just… I don’t have anyone else I can ask except you, hyung."
"A family matter that only I can hear, huh? Sounds serious."

Baekhan gave a short laugh and crossed his arms loosely.
"Alright. As long as it’s not illegal. What is it?"
Just moments ago, he’d been flustered and wide-eyed, but now Taehyun was back to his usual flat, sullen expression. If not for the way he kept rubbing the skin under his thumbnail with his index finger, no one would have known he was nervous at all.

"Well, um…"
Baekhan brought the cup to his lips, eyes still trained on Taehyun as he searched for words.
A conversation you can’t have over the phone is just as hard to have face-to-face, isn’t it?

— It’s… about my family.
A family matter? Are you saying you want to talk to me about something going on inside DH Group?
— …Yes. There’s no one else I can turn to, hyung.

At first, Baekhan had replied indifferently. But the mention of family matters piqued his curiosity. A kid he hadn’t even seen in years suddenly had an internal DH issue serious enough to ask an outsider like him? Especially considering what their last interaction had been?
‘Hyung… I liked you.’
Three years ago, at the Haechi end-of-year party—a gathering for descendants of independence fighters—Taehyun had casually tossed out that confession.

‘Just… wanted you to know.’
Even in the past tense.