Dirty Switch

Of course, it wasn’t a certainty.
But considering how rushed Cheon Seungpil’s trip to Pyongyang had been, how he’d gone straight to a pharmacy to buy every kind of test kit upon arrival, and how suspiciously close he and Joo Taehyun had always seemed… this wasn’t something to laugh off lightly.

Even that day when he’d visited Taehyun’s hospital room, there had still been faint traces of Taehyun’s pheromones clinging to Seungpil as he passed by.
What was even more puzzling was that the scent of Baekhan’s own pheromones—those that had been clearly present on Taehyun—had markedly faded. It was as if it had evaporated like smoke, sucked away into thin air. That kind of reaction usually occurred after pheromone exchange with another person.
Naturally, the idea of a Beta undergoing a trait mutation was far more plausible than an Alpha getting pregnant. More importantly, the Yunra Foundation had moved quickly to quietly contain the situation.

Apparently, they couldn’t bear the embarrassment of their screwup son rushing to buy pregnancy tests the moment he landed in Korea, because for someone as sloppy as Seungpil, the evidence had been erased a little too cleanly.
And then—
“Gasp—did you see the group chat? Joo Taehyun just got hit? Some old guy beat him with a cane on the first floor!”

…What?
Seo Baekhan, who had been mentally reordering all the theories that had been eating away at him for days, suddenly lifted his head, just as people around him were starting to wrap up and scatter.
Someone, what, did what to whom?

“You’re just hearing about that? It was a whole scene. Apparently, as soon as the guy saw Taehyun, he lost it and smacked him a few times with his cane. Said he got stabbed because of him, that he was Pyongyang’s child born from the people’s hearts.”
“Damn. You know, the older generation really hates Taehyun. Even though people say he studied hard and kept to himself.”
“You believe that? It’s all viral marketing. I mean, the guy’s… gloomy as hell. Have you seen the video compilation of his photos? He only smiles when he’s in Seoul with his family. Here in Pyongyang, he always looks like he’s about to die. Never even goes outside. Makes you wonder if he was dragged here.”

“Yeah, and just ‘cause he’s marrying some kid, our idol gets all the hate.”
“Idol? Oh… you mean Seo Baekhan?”
“Dude, if you talk like that out loud, you’ll get stoned.”

As Baekhan was eavesdropping on the gossiping group, his phone quietly vibrated.
010-0000-0000
Director, approximately 19 minutes ago, an elderly civilian approached the young master at the hospital entrance and began shouting about the recent attack, swinging ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) a cane.

The civilian was immediately taken in for questioning, but appears to be the president of the local merchants’ association, which had pledged cooperation in the Neungna Market redevelopment. There’s no indication of terrorism.
“…Ha.”
The message hadn’t come from Nam the secretary or Chief Hwang—but from his father’s chief aide.
The attack at Pyongyang University had only been a week ago.

And yet someone had approached Taehyun with a cane—and no one stopped them?
Unbelievable.
No, perhaps not. Maybe his father had orchestrated it on purpose. No—knowing Seo the assemblyman, he absolutely did.

“Anyway, the old guy yelled that Taehyun should let you go. Screamed it in his face.”
“So, no one intervened until an outsider had already made contact with Taehyun?”
Seo Baekhan’s sudden appearance caused a small ripple of screams and gasps. Unlike the sneering tones they used when talking about Taehyun, this time their voices mixed with awe and excitement—which only worsened Baekhan’s mood.

“Director, well… there were security staff, but the elderly man just kind of jumped in—”
He hadn’t even said anything yet, and they were already trying to explain themselves. If it were Taehyun, he’d have sensed Baekhan’s mood immediately and just shut his mouth.
“I already requested last time, politely, that you prevent unauthorized people from coming and going.”

He kept his tone formal, but the chill laced into every syllable wasn’t something he could hide.
The nurses awkwardly shuffled away, discreetly covering their name tags. Not one of them could even muster a proper “I’m sorry.” Just earlier, they’d had no problem running their mouths.
The veins on the back of Baekhan’s clenched fist looked ready to burst.

Yes, ultimately, this was his father’s fault for setting things up like this. But could the blame fall entirely on him?
The lax security—undoubtedly his father’s doing. But the nurses’ behavior? That probably wasn’t his father’s command.
While Baekhan stood rooted to the spot, trying to contain his misplaced fury, Joo Taehyun was out on the terrace, looking completely unbothered as he stared at the scenery.

Straight posture. Somber eyes. Tightly sealed lips.
Just like always.
But as Baekhan stared at him now, something about Taehyun felt… different. That expression, so unreadable and emotionless—it was something he used to admire.

But this time, it felt… off. Like he was cutting himself off from the world in a way Baekhan had never seen before.
“…?”
Eventually, Taehyun, who had been staring blankly out at the distance, turned fully toward him. Judging from his lips, he probably said, Hyung.

Baekhan walked toward the terrace, a strange feeling settling in his chest.
The closer he got, the clearer the scent became—wood, grass, and flowers. Taehyun’s pheromones clung to him gently, as if they knew exactly what Baekhan needed to calm down.
He was annoyed. Not because of betrayal. Not because he was angry or disappointed.

No—he was just really fucking annoyed.
That he’d imprinted unilaterally like a fool, completely at the mercy of some pheromone abnormality. That Cheon Seungpil had somehow earned separate contact with the DH family. That he’d seen the two of them huddled close on a bed. That he didn’t know why it bothered him so much.
So yes. He admitted it—he’d lashed out at Taehyun a little more harshly than usual.

But even so…
“Hyung.”
That didn’t mean just anyone could treat Taehyun however they wanted.

Not even his father.
“How are you feeling?”
“…I’m fine. And you?”

“Oh, me? I’m totally fine. Got plenty of rest at home.”
On paper or not, “Seo Baekhan’s spouse” was “Joo Taehyun.” If Baekhan had been unlucky enough to die in that attack, everything he owned would have gone to Taehyun.
No complicated interpretations necessary. It was fact. The law of the land recognized Taehyun as his only family.

Pheromones, imprints, traits—none of that mattered.
If Taehyun had whined every time someone whispered behind his back, Baekhan would’ve coldly ignored it. But he never had. And he had never imagined the harassment would go this far.
“By the way… what happened?”

Brushing windblown hair from his face, Taehyun looked calm, like nothing had happened.
The sudden attack. The warning Baekhan had just given—that he wouldn’t tolerate any more lies. Getting hit by strangers who told him to divorce.
“Anyway, I’ve got things to do, and you should be resting, so I’ll keep this short.”

Staring directly at him—perhaps too intently—Baekhan began the conversation he had prepared.
Even though he knew Taehyun wouldn’t bring up what had happened on his own.
“This rut… I’m spending it with someone else.”

Even with the suddenness of it, Taehyun simply blinked. As if the words didn’t register.
“I ran a test to check my rut cycle—it got delayed a bit. Probably because of the surgery. Just letting you know.”
“Why all of a sudden…? You’re not even fully recovered yet, so why—”

“I want to see if someone under similar conditions shows the same symptoms as you.”
“…”
“That way, I can figure out what’s going on with your pheromones. And your abnormal physical reactions.”

It was a lie.
He was going to use rut as an excuse to consult about imprint-breaking treatments. Whether it meant dumping chemicals into his bloodstream or jabbing needles into his skull—it didn’t matter. As long as Taehyun didn’t know.
“…”

Taehyun didn’t react. Not visibly, anyway. But when he finally turned away from the terrace and looked at Baekhan, his usually calm expression couldn’t quite hide the sadness lurking beneath.
Well, of course. It was the first time Baekhan had said he’d sleep with someone else since their marriage. Of course it hurt.
He could’ve made some other excuse to leave town, but… why hadn’t he? Maybe the imprint was messing with him again. Maybe he wanted to be petty for once. Still, he didn’t feel guilty. Taehyun was the one who lied first—about a sex partner, no less.

“…Hyung, did you ever sleep with someone else during rut before? Like when you were away on academic trips and stuff—you said you took suppressants if it overlapped.”
“…”
“I’m not accusing you. I know I haven’t been great either… I just wanted to know. That’s all.”

“…Yeah. I did. Not every time, but sometimes. When I felt like it.”
Another lie.
“We agreed from the start that we’d have separate rut partners. You’re upset because I didn’t tell you in advance? Then I’m sorry about that. But Taehyun…”

“…”
“Let’s keep things straight. You were the one who lied first.”
…He hadn’t meant to come down on Taehyun this hard. The kid had already been through enough. Why did he keep wanting to push him further?

This was unfamiliar territory for Baekhan. Words failing him like this.
Why? Was it because he didn’t like how Taehyun was reacting?
He didn’t know when it had started, but every exception in his life was tied to Taehyun.

“…Okay. But the rut’s not this week, right?”
After a brief silence, Taehyun nodded with his usual composure.
Baekhan instinctively stepped back half a pace. A sudden surge of pheromones washed over him—bitter and mournful, strong enough to sting his chest.

“Then… let’s have a date on Friday.”
Even if it’s in the hospital room, Taehyun added softly. His voice was low and pleasant. And his pheromones, strangely, had returned to their usual soft fragrance.
Right. This was the Taehyun he knew. So why did he still look like he’d break with one more touch?

And why did it bother Baekhan so much?
You knew this would hurt him. You did it anyway.
Ah, right. He’d wanted to confirm it. That moment when he saw Cheon Seungpil in Taehyun’s hospital room—he wanted proof that Taehyun was affected only by him. That no one else mattered.

Even if it was a one-sided imprint.
He understood now, these unfamiliar impulses. But…
The goal had already been achieved. Taehyun had forgotten all about being with someone else—he was only looking at Baekhan now. So then why… why did it still feel like shit?

Had he ever spiraled like this before? Trailing thought after thought, only to circle back to Taehyun. Pheromones. Imprints. Rinse and repeat.
“You could’ve just called or messaged me about this. But oh—right. Leaving a record would’ve been risky.”
Even as Baekhan stabbed him with those cold, pointed words, Taehyun just quietly accepted it all—like it was his to bear.

“Then… see you Friday, hyung.”
“…”
“If you’re not feeling well—or even if you are, just for 30 minutes is fine. We can just have a vending machine coffee in the hospital lounge or something…”

…Let’s have a date.
His last words were so quiet they were barely audible.
“…Yeah.”

His mouth moved on its own again.
He should’ve demanded answers—should’ve told Taehyun to confess everything he’d been hiding.
But right now… for some reason, Taehyun felt like he might disappear at any moment.

So Seo Baekhan, against his better judgment, gave him the answer he wanted.
“…Let’s meet Friday.”