Dirty Switch

He said there was something he wanted to discuss? With me?

Has that ever happened before? As far as Joo Taehyun could remember, it was a first. Even when Seo Baekhan had already made a decision, he would inform him under the guise of seeking consent—but he’d never actually cared about his opinion.
Maybe… he’s found another partner.
Or maybe now that he’s become the director of Jejungwon, he thinks it’s time to get a divorce? Maybe he’s found someone more suitable to marry…

No. No, that can’t be it. He wouldn’t bring up something like that on their wedding anniversary. Even if the day meant little to him, surely he knew it was still a day when he should at least send flowers and a gift through his secretary. It couldn’t be that he wanted to end their marriage.
“…Yes. I wasn’t planning to sleep early anyway—I’ve got my thesis to work on.”
─ Good. Then I’ll see you at home later.

Taehyun stared quietly at his phone after the call ended. Should he message and ask what this was about? Not that Baekhan would ever actually tell him.
Once the screen went dark, Taehyun finally stood up. One of the staff waiting quietly nearby took the bouquet from him. A person from Baekhan’s side, as always, would decorate the house with the flowers—tastefully, but not enough to draw attention. Just the way Baekhan liked it.
He thought they had finally started growing a little closer… but maybe not. In moments like this, Seo Baekhan still felt daunting, still felt scary. In front of him, Taehyun always shrank, always became small. He knew that a weak partner, a weak friend, a weak comrade could never earn Baekhan’s full trust—and yet, he couldn’t help it.

“Young master, where should I put the gift?”
This time, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» someone sent from the Seoul house stepped up.
While flower arrangements required Baekhan’s input, how the gift was used was solely Taehyun’s right. In the first year of their marriage, this had caused a lot of arguments between staff members, but now they all handled it smoothly without even talking.

“Um, please leave it in the dressing room. It’s probably perfume and a watch again anyway.”
“Yes. I’ll place it with the other gifts from the Director.”
“Thank you.”

Taehyun watched the staff walk off in different directions, then sank deep into the sofa.
Twenty-six…
He wished he could just turn thirty already. He knew aging wouldn’t magically solve anything, but surely he’d feel a little more grounded than now.

When would he finally stop being treated like a kid by Seo Baekhan? When would he become a solid adult, someone who could help shape a future together? How much harder did he have to work here…?
***
He had hurried, but even so, it was well past 1 a.m. by the time he returned. Seo Baekhan parked his car, climbed the stairs, and glanced at the firmly locked guest room.
Contrary to its original purpose, that room had never once been used as intended.

Joo Taehyun had continued to visit the U.S. occasionally after their marriage. Since he’d chosen to pursue a career in welfare, maintaining his Washington contacts had become even more important—and Baekhan had encouraged it.
And every time, Taehyun bought Switch. Sometimes it was Dirty Switch, sometimes Normal. Either way, he always brought something back, and Baekhan knew he’d smuggled some into Korea.
Baekhan was convinced that the grandson of the Yunra Foundation, Cheon Seungpil, was Taehyun’s longtime sex partner. There was no sweetness between them to suggest they were dating, and from what Baekhan knew, Seungpil wasn’t short on partners either.

Well, if Taehyun really enjoyed getting knotted by Alphas but still kept sleeping with a Beta like Seungpil, there had to be a reason.
Maybe they’d been having orgies with Seungpil’s friends—that seemed likely enough.
What was clear was that the grad school classmate Taehyun had claimed was his boyfriend had nothing to do with him. It had taken no effort to realize it was just a smokescreen. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know he was using Dirty Switch with a Beta, so he pretended to have a proper boyfriend.

In any case, Baekhan chose to pretend he didn’t know Taehyun was lying. Mostly because the alleged partner was Seungpil—and also because Taehyun had been surprisingly well-behaved.
If anything were to go wrong, it’d be much easier to talk things through with someone like Seungpil than a random grad student. The other side would also be more eager to cover things up.
The fact that Taehyun used Dirty Switch even with a Beta was a bit concerning… but as long as he only kept seeing Seungpil, and as long as there were no glaring issues, Baekhan decided to let it slide.

So then—does Taehyun still like him?
Well. Probably.
Compared to when he’d confessed at seventeen or proposed at twenty, he’d gotten better at hiding his feelings. But sometimes, just sometimes, he still let them slip. Like four years ago today, when Baekhan had casually sent a gift for their anniversary.

There’s an old saying: you can’t hide poverty, a cough… or love. Baekhan didn’t know about the first two, but yes—love was definitely like that.
Still, he had no complaints about it. Taehyun never acted clingy just because he liked him. He didn’t test him, didn’t expect or demand anything from him as a husband. He was genuinely happy and content with the bare minimum Baekhan gave him—just the kind of things any spouse would do.
Above all, Taehyun had performed his role as a spouse perfectly. He wasn’t the type to proactively manage people with charm, but that was exactly what Baekhan liked about him.

A young son from the powerful DH Group, living away from home in a distant city—what better prey could there be? But Taehyun treated everyone with equal indifference, keeping a consistently cold face. Thanks to that, bribes and lobbying attempts never even made it past the front gate.
That didn’t mean he was stiff all the time. When socializing was necessary, he did just enough to avoid ruining the mood. He had good basic manners too. Because of that, there were quite a few men and women who secretly tried to slip him their number.
What’s more, having a spouse of the same gender and secondary gender made it easier to gain cooperation at international conferences and academic associations. That, in turn, smoothed out the ongoing projects for refining, commercializing, and standardizing Switch on a global scale.

All in all, Seo Baekhan was deeply satisfied with this marriage. To the point where he felt more fondness toward Taehyun than he’d expected.
“Hyung, you’re back.”
He had figured the light downstairs meant Taehyun was still up, but he hadn’t expected him to come out to the entrance.

Baekhan’s eyes narrowed slightly in surprise, then he gave a short smile.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting here this whole time?”
“No, I came down to get some water and saw the parking alert.”

Taehyun rubbed his eyes wearily. He looked more tired than he had in recent days.
He’d been busy with his integrated master’s and PhD program. Starting this year, he was also supposed to begin transitioning into DH Group’s scholarship foundation. It was only going to get busier from here.
“I tried to hurry, but the conference was with international partners, so it ran long.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon anyway… So, what is it you wanted to talk about?”
As they walked past the hallway with a view of the yard and into the living room, the vase full of today’s flower delivery immediately caught his eye. The light-colored roses and lily of the valley were arranged just as instructed—densely, and in a way that matched Taehyun well. If you looked closely, the flowers were bold and striking in shape, yet quiet and calm in impression.
“Well, since you’re tired, I’ll keep it short: moving forward, your drug tests will be done through Jejungwon instead of Donghwa Hospital.”

“Ah… okay?”
As expected. Taehyun didn’t seem to understand why that mattered. It was just a routine check-up with an added drug test—whether it was done in Seoul or at Jejungwon, what difference did it make?
“As director of Jejungwon, I’m technically classified as a high-ranking public official. It’s a national institution. Officially, I’m a quasi-civil servant… Anyway.”

“Sure. That’s fine.”
“Taehyun, do you not understand what this means? You’re still taking Switch. The Dirty kind.”
“…Ah.”

It had been a long time since they last talked about this directly. In their first year of marriage, Baekhan had questioned him thoroughly. After that, he simply received periodic drug test results and purchase records. From Taehyun’s assistant, not from Taehyun himself.
He knew Taehyun felt uncomfortable discussing it. But just because he hadn’t asked didn’t mean he was being considerate—he simply thought the reports were enough.
Switch had been a major sticking point during their marriage negotiations. Even if Baekhan felt more comfortable and familiar with Taehyun now, it wasn’t a topic he could afford to gloss over with sentiment.

“H-Hyung…”
“I know your results always came back clean. They were from Donghwa Hospital, so I figured you were altering them. But I didn’t bother bringing it up.”
“……”

“I didn’t care who you slept with in the U.S. or what kind of Switch you used—because it wasn’t a problem. But that’s not the case anymore. Jejungwon isn’t like Donghwa Hospital.”
It wasn’t that altering the test results was impossible—it just wasn’t a good idea right now. This was Pyongyang. And while Seo Baekhan had overwhelming support in the area, not everyone welcomed the idea of someone so young being appointed director of Jejungwon. The only reason it had been allowed was because the institution was based in Pyongyang.
“This is a time when it’s better to be cautious about everything. So for now, only take the Switch I give you.”

“You… you’re giving me Switch?”
“Yeah. It’s not Dirty, so it’ll be a lot duller than what you’re used to—but it’s not classified as a pseudo-narcotic, so it won’t trigger anything on a test.”