Dirty Switch

The silence didn’t last long, but the meaning it carried was far from simple.
“…This is…”

Just as countless thoughts began to ripple through the air, Seo Baekhan’s attending physician muttered quietly. His eyes flicked between the test, Cheon Seungpil, and Joo Taehyun, full of hesitation and suspicion.
Joo Taehyun pressed the back of his damp neck into the pillow, as if trying to shake off the cold sweat. Maybe he wanted to physically feel the test kits hidden beneath the sheets—like that would somehow ease his mind.
There was no way Baekhan hadn’t thought the same things the physician was now considering. Even if he didn’t know the exact details, it wasn’t going to lead anywhere helpful for Taehyun.

“…Jeez.”
Still half-draped over Taehyun from when he’d been tucking in the blanket, Cheon Seungpil bent down and picked up the test kit that had fallen to the floor. The way he stuffed it back into his pocket wasn’t particularly rushed, but it wasn’t casual either—it just looked awkward.
At least he didn’t add some clumsy explanation like “Oh, that’s mine,” which would’ve looked even more suspicious.

And, after all, Seungpil always acted like a scolded schoolboy around Baekhan anyway, so even that strange behavior wasn’t too out of character.
Yeah. I’ll come up with a decent excuse later.
Taehyun lay on his side, pretending to face Baekhan, and nervously smoothed the pillowcase with his fingers.

“Ahem… Well then, the two of you should get some rest today, and tomorrow—”
“If you’re chatting away with a friend, you seem healthy enough to me.”
Seo Baekhan dragged the IV stand over and sat heavily at the foot of Taehyun’s bed. The angle was oddly perfect—almost too deliberate. Panicking at the idea that Baekhan might spot the hidden test kits, Taehyun quickly pushed himself upright.

“Isn’t that right, Taehyun?”
“…I’m fine.”
What kind of face did he usually make when looking at Baekhan? Had he sat up too suddenly just now? Did it seem unnatural?

Maintaining his usual cold, aloof expression—a skill he was always so confident in—was strangely difficult at this moment. Even when they’d had sex, not a single facial muscle had wavered.
Now, every breath felt dangerous. As if the slightest exhale might give away the baby inside him.
His belly felt tight, just from being aware of it. He knew better than anyone that you couldn’t conclude anything from just one Omega-type test. But still…

“Hey, Baekhan-hyung. Taehyun—”
“Seungpil, is it because you’re not married yet that you don’t get this?”
“W-What?”
“When couples want to talk privately, you’re supposed to pick up on that. I’ve been giving you cues forever, and you still don’t get it.”

Without even glancing at Seungpil—or anyone else—Baekhan kept his eyes fixed on Taehyun. His large hand moved slowly, brushing over Taehyun’s scalp, then down his rough cheek and the corner of his mouth.
“…Ah. Right…”
Seungpil, hesitant and unsure, finally backed down. Baekhan was, for all intents and purposes, Taehyun’s sole family and guardian here—and he’d just made it very clear that he wanted everyone else gone. What reason did Seungpil have to stick around?

“Okay, then. I’ll… let you two talk.”
He hunched his shoulders as he slid open the door.
“Doctor, are you staying too?”

“…Sorry?”
The attending, who had been standing calmly near Baekhan, blinked in confusion.
“That’s odd. Last I checked, my spouse is Taehyun. But for some reason, you and Seungpil keep trying to wedge yourselves in between us. Isn’t that right?”

“…Ah…”
Finally catching on to Baekhan’s intention, the medical staff also began to quietly retreat.
“Then I’ll return tomorrow—or whenever you call.”

They left without further delay. The sliding door closing sounded louder than it ever had before.
What’s with him? Taehyun had seen Baekhan act sly before, but today… there was a sharpness wrapped tightly around # Nоvеlight # him, something hard to explain.
“Hyung… your surgery… it went well, right?”

Taehyun hid his trembling hands under the blanket and did his best to sound casual. It was always his job to smooth the tension, to read Baekhan’s mood, and ease the atmosphere.
“Yeah, as you can see. I’m recovering freakishly fast.”
He let out a small laugh, adding that he was now single-handedly reinforcing the stereotype that Alphas were inhumanly sturdy.

It wasn’t his usual public smile, nor his mischievous half-grin. It was a subtle, unfamiliar kind of smile Taehyun had never seen before—one whose meaning he couldn’t quite grasp. And that unsettled him more than anything.
Baekhan’s smile was light, but Taehyun felt like the floor was falling out from under him. Was it the imprint again? It felt like he was missing something crucial—but he didn’t know what it was.
“I didn’t realize this myself until recently, Taehyun…”

His voice was so low it made Taehyun flinch.
“…but pheromones really are strange things.”
Was it just coincidence? He’d been thinking the exact same thing.

“Y-Yeah? I mean, when you came in, even over the hospital smell—”
“They make me want to go easy on you. Just a little.”
“…What?”

Baekhan’s eyes were fixed on him now, with a penetrating sharpness that felt like it could dismantle him piece by piece.
“Even though I know you’re lying to me.”
His whisper was exactly like the one he used when asking if Taehyun wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. Gentle. Calm. Slightly affectionate.

Which was why it took Taehyun a moment to realize what he meant.
“…Hyung, what are you—”
“I had someone follow you.”

The moment Taehyun instinctively started to deny it, Baekhan cut him off—calm but firm.
“Ever since you confessed to liking me and ran off to the U.S.—I’ve been reviewing everything.”
“…Hyung…”

“So you’d better tell me yourself. Before the final report reaches me.”
No vague promise of leniency. Just a cold, merciless warning—purely Baekhan.
He should’ve said something—anything. Denied it, at least. But his lips wouldn’t move.

The Switch he never actually took. The sex partners that never existed. The twisted pheromone abnormality. The unilateral imprint.
And maybe, just maybe… a child in his womb.
The sandcastle Taehyun had carefully built was collapsing. No—maybe it had already crumbled. He was just scrambling to salvage what was left after the waves had all but destroyed it.

He’d always known Baekhan suspected him. Even when they had sex at the hotel, Baekhan had prodded him over and over again.
Taehyun hadn’t let his guard down. He just hadn’t had time to prepare a plan, caught up in the rush of rut and pheromones.
But he didn’t expect Baekhan to come at him so directly. He had no idea what Baekhan knew or how much of it.

“I told you—maybe it’s the pheromones, but I feel like going easy on you.”
“…”
“But I wouldn’t take too long. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt this way, and I can’t say how long it’ll last.”

While Taehyun was still frozen in panic, Baekhan lifted his chin and pecked him a few times—quick, clipped kisses like a bird’s beak—then stood up from the bed.
“When your family arrives tomorrow, explain everything to them.”
In other words, even if Taehyun’s family came to Pyongyang, Baekhan had no intention of meeting them.

“Oh—and if you’re feeling okay, get discharged first. I might have to stay depending on how things go.”
Taehyun stared blankly at Baekhan’s back as he left the room, his hand unconsciously resting on his lower belly.
And yet, the lingering peach scent where Baekhan had been sitting somehow made him feel like he could breathe again. He clung to it. Desperately. Like always.

It took him a beat to realize—
This was the first time since their marriage that Seo Baekhan had not shared his official schedule with him.
* * *

“Taehyun already arrived?”
“Yes. He said he’d get some air on the terrace near the room.”
“And Cheon Seungpil?”

“He’s touring Pyongyang with President Joo Kyunghan and President Joo Yoonwoo.”
Several days had passed since the attack.
Taehyun had been discharged the next day. His family from Seoul had taken turns caring for him, but Baekhan didn’t know any more details than that. He hadn’t summoned Taehyun back to the hospital, nor had he contacted him.

Even today’s meeting had been arranged through his secretary.
“…Tch. This is so blatant it’s pathetic.”
That was all Baekhan had to say about the press release draft Nam the secretary handed over. Even if the final piece had been killed at the editor’s desk, the fact that such a trash article had even been written under the name of a major news outlet was appalling.

“Kang Bunam promised reporters more exclusives. Said he’d provide recordings or footage. Told them to look forward to it.”
“And all the little bribes and gifts—Kim Seungjun probably handled that.”
Officially, Baekhan was still “hospitalized for post-surgery recovery,” but he was making daily trips to Jejungwon. Too many critical documents could only be accessed there. And since it wasn’t far from the Pyongyang University Hospital, it wasn’t hard to slip in unnoticed. Even if someone did catch him, they’d just rave about his work ethic—He got stabbed and still came to work?!

“Looks like they saw this as an opportunity. Nobody’s talking about Switch legalization or anti-trait backlash anymore—just tearing down Joo Taehyun.”
“Yeah. Even if it didn’t go to print, there’s already talk of a feud between DH family members. Kang Bunam’s side will probably keep using these tactics to chip away at Master Taehyun.”
Baekhan handed the printout back to Nam.

“Shred this. Then go home.”
The Assembly office wouldn’t care as long as the Seo family’s name stayed out of the mess. If anything, they might use this incident to squeeze even more concessions from DH Group. Last time Baekhan visited, they didn’t even hide their intentions.
“And Master Taehyun…?”

“Choi Yeonjun will pick him up.”
“Understood.”
After a respectful bow, Nam left. Baekhan headed toward the terrace in the inpatient wing.

It was still cold out. Why was Taehyun out there in the wind? Was this supposed to be a protest?
Pressing a finger to his throbbing temple, Baekhan recalled the academic papers he’d been reviewing at Jejungwon.
He always stored information like he was building a library in his mind—systematically filing away knowledge so he could retrieve it whenever necessary. He’d loved that process. In his youth, he’d rushed to graduate early, partly to show off, but mostly because he genuinely enjoyed learning.

And now, for the first time, that vast, well-organized mental library had been turned upside down.
Because of Joo Taehyun.
The imprint he never wanted was unraveling everything.

“…Hey, that’s him, right? Joo Taehyun? What’s he doing over there?”
“Director Seo’s out right now. He probably got bored and came out. First time I’ve seen him in person—he’s really good-looking.”
Maybe it was because he was hidden in a blind spot. The nurses hadn’t noticed Baekhan standing there and were whispering.

“He’s an Alpha, right? Guess that’s why he’s tall and built like that.”
…Right. An Alpha.
Joo Taehyun was an Alpha.

Even if he was currently leaking slick from his ass, he was still an Alpha. The imprint was unfortunate, but it was temporary. His secondary gender hadn’t fully mutated into Omega.
So… the most plausible explanation was that Cheon Seungpil was the one who got him pregnant.
Even the paper he had just read at Jejungwon, and the foreign journal he’d browsed on the way—all pointed in the same direction.

Late-onset Omega traits in Betas.
Or cases of unexpected pregnancy in Betas.