Dirty Switch

“After I take it… I just… feel good right away. And then… I get wet… and feel like I have to do something. Right away.”
Yeah, you’re soaked all right.

Seo Baekhan replayed the words Joo Taehyun had muttered in his delirium. He’d said he couldn’t see any other Alphas, hadn’t he? That none had shown up.
So what—he hallucinated every time he took the Switch? It would make sense. One of the key reasons Dirty Switch was classified as a narcotic in the country was exactly because of its hallucinogenic effects.
It should’ve disgusted him—Taehyun’s grimy, pathetic obsession wasn’t even worth dressing up with the excuse of a one-sided crush. And yet, Seo Baekhan found himself more intrigued than angry. He had suspected Taehyun still harbored feelings for him… but this? To have desired him so greedily, so desperately, all while pretending otherwise?

“I said I’d fuck your ass? What else did I say I’d do for you?”
As he kept coaxing, hoisting Taehyun’s drooping body back into position, Taehyun murmured in a low, broken voice, mumbling one depraved promise after another.
Some of them were the exact things Baekhan had said ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) during sex before. That caught him off guard. Apparently, Taehyun had him figured out better than he thought.

“And, and then—hng!”
“Mm? And then what?”
To shake off the unease creeping up his spine, Seo Baekhan yanked down Taehyun’s pants and underwear in one motion, exposing skin damp with sweat and slick.

“I—I don’t really remember…”
As Taehyun reached up to grab a pillow, Baekhan’s chest brushed against his back and then pulled away. The position resembled an embrace, and Taehyun let out the most pitiful sound Baekhan had heard from him yet, his shoulders drawing in tight.
“Rub against this.”

He shoved the pillow under Taehyun’s hips, helping him press his engorged cock into the soft cushion. It wouldn’t be anywhere near the same as being inside an Omega, but Taehyun still shuddered—breath hitching in a metallic rasp like it was far too much stimulation already.
Baekhan pulled his arm away and checked his watch. Time had passed far more quickly than he’d realized. He let out a quiet grunt.
No good would come from dragging this out.

He trusted Prince Yi Hwang and Jeong Sangwon, sure—but there was no guarantee that the palace staff wouldn’t start gossiping.
Baekhan’s gaze wandered idly across Taehyun’s exposed back—his taut shoulder blades, the line of his spine beneath the stretched fabric of his shirt. Broad shoulders. A waist slimmer than expected. His ass, small and nicely shaped… but ultimately still the body of a man.
Overwhelming pheromones. That raw, animalistic scent. Skin slicked with sweat and slick. Yet not an ounce of it aroused him.

He tried touching Taehyun’s back, wondering if physical contact would stir something—anything—but when his fingers didn’t even find the edge of any underwear, it only reminded him again how deeply unpleasant it was to be doing this with a male Alpha.
“…Tch.”
Baekhan exhaled sharply between his teeth and spread Taehyun’s ass with both hands.
Well, what could he do? It had to be done.

He hadn’t started gagging at the sight of Taehyun’s naked body, at least. That was… better than expected.
Baekhan had always preferred women, regardless of secondary traits. But controlling someone, manipulating them at will with his hands—that wasn’t limited to sex. It was a core part of who he was.
As Choi Yeonjun once described it, the crooked satisfaction Baekhan took in domination was rooted in his dogged, abrasive temperament. It replaced any conventional notion of sexual excitement.

“Taehyun.”
“Nn… yeah…”
“I’ll try to fuck you somehow. But if I happen to see your dick while I’m at it, I doubt I’ll enjoy it much.”

“S-Sorry…”
Taehyun seemed to rush to lower his hands, but to Baekhan it just looked like he was flopping weakly like a soaked rag.
“What, are you trying to cover it up? Wouldn’t it be better to grab it tight with your hands?”

He didn’t quite hear the response, but Taehyun’s ass gave him the answer instead. The muscles in his cheeks visibly trembled from how tightly he was clutching himself, desperately hiding his fully swollen Alpha cock.
“Yeah, hold it just like that.”
“Ah—ughh…!”

He was leaking so much slick it was almost revolting. Baekhan pushed his index and middle fingers straight into the hole. Taehyun jerked violently in response.
He’d said he liked being fucked deep—that that’s why he preferred Alphas. But his inner walls were tight. Incredibly tight.
There was plenty of wetness, sure. But the sensation was nowhere near the supple, silky texture that wrapped around you like flesh should. It was dry, stubborn, unyielding.

Would he even be able to get in? Maybe the head would squeeze through if he forced it…
Baekhan scissored his fingers inside, prying him open, and sighed sharply through his nose at the sight of the flushed, wet flesh between the parted lips.
Right. This wasn’t sex.

This wasn’t about pleasure. He was here to fix a pheromone imbalance. So what did it matter how much of himself he could shove in?
All he needed to do was come inside Taehyun. As long as it stabilized him enough to walk out of this palace with some semblance of composure, it would be enough.
“Hyung…”

Baekhan undid his belt and pulled out just his cock, gripping the shaft and stroking it rapidly. With his eyes shut, he could pick out the dense, green scent of a forest—laced with something sharper. Like a bitter leaf crushed underfoot. It prickled the base of his skull, a stimulus so direct it felt like a wire jabbed into his brainstem. The slick coating his fingers created an obscene squelch that gave the motion a little rhythm.
“Hyung, um…”
“Haa… Taehyun…”

He was just beginning to think it was fortunate he could even stay hard long enough to go through with it. But right then, Taehyun started mumbling again—his awareness clearly still drifting somewhere in the clouds.
“I can’t… can’t I…?”
“What?”

Baekhan genuinely didn’t hear and asked again. Taehyun, suddenly deflated, buried his face in the bed.
“I didn’t catch that.”
Sliding the head of his cock along the cleft of Taehyun’s ass, Baekhan leaned over his back. Sweat and slick had pooled between Taehyun’s spine and hips, making the contact wet and noisy.

“What did you say?”
Baekhan placed a hand beside his shoulder, still holding his cheeks apart, and asked again.
This, too, was part of his kink. Drawing out every hushed, half-swallowed plea his partner couldn’t say aloud—it gave him a kind of mental gratification no climax could match.

Still… he was speaking more clearly now. Less stuttering. Forming full sentences. Maybe blowing a few loads had cleared his head a bit?
“I, uh…”
Taehyun swallowed hard and turned his face to the side. Sticky sweat had pooled in the hollow between his neck and collarbone.

“Is it okay… if you hold me?”
And just like that, the thin veil of moisture in his eyes burst.
Tears spilled over his high cheekbones, dripping rapidly down the other side.

“I’ll hide it. I swear you won’t see my cock. I’ll hold it tight, I promise… ngh, just…”
So please, just hold me. Even a little more than this. Just hold me.