Dirty Switch

Seo Baekhan had already selected several types of Switch—those that had been filtered through multiple distribution channels, weren’t well known domestically, were easy to mistake for nutritional supplements, and didn’t show any narcotics-like reaction when tested.

He hadn’t taken them himself, so he couldn’t compare their effects, but they were definitely much safer for Joo Taehyun’s body than the Dirty Switch he usually bought. The ones Taehyun preferred were practically cheap aphrodisiacs that belonged in a back alley.
“So basically, it means I… have to take only the Switch you give me, right?”
“Yeah. I think that would be best.”

“And if… I said I wouldn’t take any Switch at all—just quit entirely—would there still be issues with the test results?”
“That’d be ideal. But have you ever once not used Switch? You bought it every time you went to the U.S., and you brought it back with you when you returned.”
“……”

“So you saying you’ll stop… Honestly, I just don’t believe that.”
“I didn’t really tamper with the test results from Donghwa Hospital.”
“Then there really shouldn’t be any issues. Take what I give you and do the tests at Jejungwon.”

He’d figured Taehyun wouldn’t be too thrilled with the suggestion, but his reaction was even more intense than expected. He looked like he’d just been insulted to the core, his face pale as a ghost. When he was younger, he’d bite his lip or twitch his brows when upset, but lately, he rarely showed emotion. This felt oddly refreshing.
Still, it was understandable that Taehyun would be upset.
Who cared if the Switch was safer—none of his preferences had been considered. It was a decision made solely with Seo Baekhan’s convenience in mind. Like offering olive oil to someone who ordered soda just because it’s healthier—no one would be happy with that.

On top of that, Taehyun’s use of Switch had already been discussed and accepted before the marriage. Acting now like he was holding some major flaw over Taehyun’s head and demanding absolute compliance… yeah, it was definitely unfair.
Baekhan decided this was a time to offer the carrot, not the stick. When he was younger, he couldn’t stand not overpowering someone—he had to win, had to bend them. But after thirty, he’d learned how to get what he wanted without wasting energy. Still, when Taehyun proposed to him back then, he’d believed that ruling others required charming them with a smile while still pulling all the strings.
“So… this isn’t much of a trade, but if there’s anything you want, I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

“……”
“I’m not trying to brush this off. I was going to suggest a few options myself, but you’re not someone who’s really lacking anything—whether it’s shares, money, or other resources.”
He added that he was ready to sign a contract if necessary, and at that, Taehyun’s eyes wavered slightly. The way his pupils seemed to ripple like water showed how seriously he was thinking. That, to Baekhan, was a good sign.

As he stared into Taehyun’s shifting eyes, Baekhan found himself marveling. Both of them had black hair and black eyes. Yet Baekhan’s eyes were sharp, almost metallic, while Taehyun’s looked like deep ink—dense and still. Same color, so completely different.
“Is there… a set duration? For how long I have to take the Switch you give me?”
“One year. Just endure one year.”
That, too, had been an anticipated question.

In truth, as long as he was director of Jejungwon, he had no intention of letting Taehyun order low-grade Switch off some delivery app.
But if he could wean him onto his version of Switch for a year, there was a good chance Taehyun wouldn’t go back to Dirty Switch afterward.
More importantly, Baekhan was also planning to discreetly drop a word to Chairman Joo and Chairwoman Yoo, both of whom spoiled their youngest son rotten. If they stepped in to persuade him, Taehyun was bound to give in.

“…Alright.”
His voice was nearly buried in a sigh, but in the end, Taehyun accepted Baekhan’s proposal. As always.
“But just like you said, there’s nothing I really want right now. I don’t have any pressing desires. Still, if I put it off indefinitely, it feels like I’m the only one losing out.”

So, he said, locking eyes with Baekhan,
“I’d like to adjust the terms of your offer on a quarterly basis.”
Baekhan let out a short laugh before he realized it. It was a little unexpected—but not unpleasant. On the contrary, it was the first time Taehyun actually struck him as cute. Of all things, he came up with the idea of having his ‘wish’ granted every quarter? And he said it so seriously, like he was making some grand declaration. He really was just a kid.

“Wow. Look at the little chaebol heir trying to milk me dry. Alright then, have you thought about what your first quarterly wish is going to be?”
“Yes. Every Friday—no, wait, you’re busy. Once a week, I want you to set aside time for me. Ideally Friday or the weekend, but once a week is enough.”
Taehyun had clearly been waiting to bring it up. It was surprisingly plain—almost disappointingly so.

“What do you want to do with that time?”
“Anything. With me. In Pyongyang.”
So basically, this little kid was asking to go on dates… once a week.

Baekhan gave Taehyun a long once-over. He wasn’t sure what his angle was.
Dates, huh. Not like it was hard—they were married, after all.
What caught him off guard was how easily Taehyun had laid his feelings out in the open. He thought he’d only ever say it at the bitter end, like in the past, couched in past tense.

From Baekhan’s point of view, not much had changed. Taehyun had always fulfilled his role as a legal spouse, no matter what his feelings were, and had handled his own needs quietly through people like Seungpil. He wasn’t asking to sleep together every week—just to eat, sightsee, maybe stroll somewhere nice. Knowing Taehyun, that was probably it.
“I have two reasons for asking this. First, people gossip every time they see me alone. They say they’ve never seen us together, and it’s always directed at me. I’m getting tired of it.”
It didn’t sound like a big deal, but Taehyun was speaking with an unusual sense of urgency, almost like he was making an excuse. Baekhan watched him in silence.

“…And the second reason?”
Baekhan nearly laughed out loud but held it in, giving a slight nod for him to continue.
“It’s kind of the same as the first. You probably know this, but every time we go to an event, someone always tries to give me their number. And they always throw in, ‘It’s not like you actually love each other,’ as if that justifies it.”

If they stuck together for three months or so, Taehyun sighed, maybe people would finally stop talking.
Should I praise him for becoming such a good actor? The guy who used to say nothing but keep his mouth tightly shut could now pull off a convincing bluff.
Still, what should he say…

Baekhan could think of at least ten reasons why this was a terrible idea. Like how if they started spending time together for a few months and then went back to the way things were, the breakup rumors would only get worse.
He hadn’t even realized there were rumors. If someone as image-conscious as him hadn’t heard them, they couldn’t be that serious. And yet Taehyun was reacting with extreme sensitivity. That might only lead to more stress later.
Logically, he should decline. If granting Taehyun’s wish meant feeding his personal desires, things would only get harder later. Based on Taehyun’s own logic, he was the only one who’d end up hurt.

Still, it didn’t bother him. Taehyun’s behavior was almost funny. And asking him to switch meds had been ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) a form of emotional manipulation anyway, so… yeah. Weekly dates for a quarter? That, Baekhan could grant.
“Alright. Let’s do that.”
Taehyun blinked blankly, as if he hadn’t expected Baekhan to agree so easily.

“Tomorrow’s Friday. We’ll talk about what happened over dinner, so get some rest tonight.”
Standing from the sofa, Baekhan pulled several small bottles of Switch from his inner jacket pocket and placed them on the table.
“These are the ones I picked. Before your Jejungwon exam, we’ll run a quick pre-test. I want to see how the numbers come out. Yeah—let’s do it after dinner tomorrow.”

“……”
“If you get cravings, just tell me.”
He ruffled Taehyun’s hair and headed toward the stairs. Taehyun didn’t even flinch on the sofa, and Baekhan didn’t bother reading into it.

***
“…Hyung.”
Friday. It was nearly dinnertime, but Taehyun still hadn’t said anything. So Baekhan went ahead and made a reservation at a decent restaurant and simply messaged him with the time—less a suggestion, more an order.

Even then, with no reply, he started to worry something had happened. But fortunately, Taehyun showed up right on time.
The only thing was… his face was red—around the cheeks and his eyes. Much more than usual.