#damiensdemon

[damiensdemon]

The Perfect Patient

Words: 4.8k

Summary: One-shot first-person drabble about having an unfortunate dental-fetish and a hot dentist.

"As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it."

Warnings: Smut, Dental Kink, Praise Kink, Horny Dentistry, Light Bondage, Light Bloodplay, Tooth Extraction, Needles, Transmasc Protag

The longer you put off something important, the harder it is to get it done. Like weeding a garden or telling a secret, sometimes the mental emphasis you put on a task can make it infinitely harder, as it gets more time to grow roots in your mind.

In your case, you haven’t been to the dentist’s office in many, many years. Currently, you’re sitting in the waiting room of a local office, waiting to be called back. The cozy clinic isn’t nearly as sterile-feeling as you remember your childhood office being, but that doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves.

The door across the room from you opens, and you jump at the sound. Luckily for you, the soft-faced young man who steps out is too engrossed in his clipboard to notice your fear. His brown eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles as he calls your name, “We’re ready for you, if you wanna head back.”

“Y-yes, thank you…” You mumble as politely as you can, quickly collecting your things and following him into the office.

His cheery grin persists as he shuts the door behind you, then leads you off down a hallway. After a couple of turns, he stops in front of a strange looking machine mounted to the wall.

“How are you feeling today?” He asks pleasantly, double-checking his clipboard as he begins messing with something behind a little divider in the room.

“Fine! A little nervous... Um… How are you?” You ask, sliding your thumbs under the straps of your backpack. Nervous tick.

“Pretty swell.” He grins, then motions to the chair under the arm of the machine. “My name is Jamie, and I’m the hygienist on duty today. Since you haven’t been seen for a while, we’re gonna take a quick x-ray. This is just gonna take a second, if you don’t mind taking a seat for me.”

“O-oh, of course.” You sit down in the chair, holding your spine stiffly. Jamie steps around you, then slides a heavy, weighted bib over your head. The weight is oddly comforting as it settles against your shoulders.

He walks you through the steps of the x-ray patiently, and while Jamie keeps up an easy chatter. Despite his best efforts, you can’t help but get more and more anxious as the appointment goes on.

After he takes the bitewing out of your mouth and lifts the weighted vest off of you, you finally ask him something that you'd wanted to since you first realized you needed an appointment. “What’s the dentist like?”

“Doctor Langford? He’s a sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” He shrugs, waiting for you to put your backpack back on before motioning for you to follow him. As you walk, he adds, “All his patients seem to love him, as long as he’s sitting down.”

You give Jamie a confused look. He catches it, then explains, “Oh. He’s really tall. He’s kinda got, uh, gentle-giant vibes, y’know?”

“Ooh, I see.” You mumble, letting yourself wander along behind him toward a dental treatment room. Your friend, who’d recommended you to Dr. Langford, had expressed the same sentiment. Though, they'd described him as 'dark and handsome' in addition to 'tall'.

As you turn into a small room with dark blue walls, Jamie goes on. “His daughter thinks he’s the best. She’s so little compared to him. And, I mean, compared to his ex-wife, I can see why she chose him over her. I have no idea why he’s still single, or why he was even with that woman in the first-... um…” He caught himself, clearing his throat abruptly. “...Yeah. Anyways. Take a seat whenever.”

Jamie nodded toward the chair in the middle of the room, with a dental engine built into one of the armrests. The metal tray beside it contained a few tools that you weren’t quite familiar with, but just the sight of them made you feel…

“So, I’m gonna clean your teeth, and the doctor will be in to check you out as soon as I’m done. Do you want mint or bubblegum flavored toothpaste?”

Stiffly, you force yourself to settle back into the chair. “... Bubblegum, please.” 

“Cool.” He said, pulling his medical mask over his nose and putting on a fresh pair of gloves. You have to turn away as he gets prepped, to keep the butterflies in your stomach from crawling their way up your throat.

“... Man, you got it bad, huh?” He asks with an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

“H-- Ghk… What?” You splutter, face flushing instantly.

“You’ve got like, dentophobia right? A fear of dental-stuff?”

You nod a little too quickly. “Yeah! I totally do. I'm super freaked out by all the, uh, mouth stuff. Maybe we should just skip the cleaning."

"I mean, we could, but the dentist is still gonna need to look in your mouth. And, uh… It won't hurt or anything, I promise."

"I'm not really worried about pain." You say with a nervous laugh, pulling on the strings of your hoodie.

Jamie scoots his stool up next to your seat, then puts his hand on your arm. He squeezes gently, waiting for you to relax.

"... Okay. Let's get this over with." You sigh, twisting the strings around your fingers in a self-soothing gesture.

He pats your arm happily, then picks up the brush connected to the chair. "You're a brave man, my dude. Okay, I'll be quick and gentle, promise."

You give a little nod and open your mouth for him. Jamie shifts into a more professional façade as he turns the brush on and begins cleaning your teeth.

Unsurprisingly, the effect on you is immediate. You have to drop the strings as your hands begin to shiver. Instead, you grip the armrests tightly. As your face burns hot once more, you steal a glance at the young man next to you. Jamie is, respectfully, keeping his eyes focused on your mouth, rather than your uncomfortable expression. … You have to keep yourself from thinking about that too much.

As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it.

“... Alright, we’re done with the cleaning! Want some water?” Jamie chirps, setting down the electric brush and offering you a small cup. You nod gratefully, taking a sip and swishing for a moment before spitting into the little sink he’d pushed closer to you.

“Is that it, then?” You ask hesitantly.

“Not quite. I’ve gotta floss ya, and check for any left-over nasties.” He says, swapping to a fresh pair of gloves. Idly, your eyes flick to the tray beside your chair. A container of floss sits innocuously beside an array of sharp implements. Jamie laughs quietly, “Uh, don’t worry. Those won’t hurt, either. Unless… you haven’t been flossing.”

Shamefully, you shake your head.

“Gotta get on that shit. Can’t have you getting gum disease. Then you’ll have to come here more often.” He teased, scooting up closer. “Alright, sit back, let’s do this.”

Somehow, you kept your cool through the remainder of the cleaning. By the time your gums had stopped bleeding, Jamie had already cleaned you up and left to fetch the dentist.

Your anxiety barely has time to spike before an absolute mountain of a human being enters the room. He has to duck his head to avoid bumping his head on the door frame. Despite the warm smile on his face as he approaches you, his intimidation factor is massive.

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Doctor Langford, but you can call me Gabriel.” He says, extending a hand to you.

With your heart in your throat, you reach out to shake it. God, his hand is huge compared to yours. Shakily, you introduce yourself, and can only pray that you don’t sound as terrified as you feel.

“Pleasure to meet you. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your x-ray…” He says, folding himself into the chair Jamie had left beside you. He holds up a sheet of film, and points to a place behind your molars. “Your wisdom teeth are beginning to come in. As one would expect of a young man of your age... Now, I can’t remove those today, but you can schedule an appointment for that later.”

You nod along, but can’t really focus on what he’s telling you. Gabriel speaks with a soothing, deep tone, and a slight accent that you can’t quite place. … Australian, perhaps?

"Alright, I'll just do a quick examination of your teeth, and then we can get you out of here." He says with a smile, turning around to grab a fresh pair of gloves.

You swallow hard, watching him pull his latex gloves into place with a snap. No wedding ring, your stupid-awful-monkey-brain whispers. You tell it, politely, to sit the fuck back. 

"Can you open for me?" Gabriel asks gently. Almost embarrassingly quickly, you part your lips and let him look into your mouth.

Even with a mask covering half of his face, you remain very aware of how close he is to you. You can feel his presence looming over you as he adjusts a light to see inside your oral cavity.

He watches you with sharp, attentive eyes. Softly, he hums, then picks up a small mouth mirror and slides it into your mouth.

"Ah, excuse me…" He mutters, lifting his hand and touching your molar with his--

An embarrassing squeak leaves your throat, and he immediately retracts. If he registered the true nature of that noise, he doesn't make it obvious. "Oh. Pardon me. Are you alright?"

Your heart hammers in your ears as you nod. "I-I'm fine! I just, got overwhelmed."

"Ah, I see." He replies, taking off his gloves casually. "Your teeth look quite healthy, but you do have a small cavity in one of your molars."

"... What?" You mumble numbly. Oh fuck, oh shit--

"If you have an extra hour, we can fill that today. Does that sound alright with you?” His tone borders on velvety. Is he doing that on purpose? … No, of course not. He's a dentist, this is his job.

He remains silent and attentive, waiting for you to reply. You nod quickly, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “... Oh. Yes! Of course, let’s… do that. Get it out of the way. Haha.”

“Wonderful. Jamie will get everything prepared for us, and I’ll be back shortly. Hold tight.” He says, rising to his feet and giving you an approving nod as he exits the room.

Shit. Goddamn it. He knows, he has to.

No sooner has that thought passed through your mind before Jamie pokes his head back in. The smug grin on his face tells you that he has instantly read you for filth.

“Shut up.” You bury your face in your hands, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

The hygienist has to duck back out of the room to laugh, then enters and shuts the door behind him. “So… Anything you wanna share with me, young man?”

Laughing gas, as you’ve discovered, has a strange smell. It’s vaguely sweet, like Jamie had told you, but there’s also a distinctive metallic scent, and perhaps a hint of rubber. Though, maybe that’s the mask strapped over your nose.

“Is it kicking in yet?” He asks, setting something down on the tray out of your line of sight.

“I’m not sure. Maybe?” You say, leaning your head back against the headrest. “I feel… comfortable, I guess. As comfortable as I can right now, at least.”

“That’s good. It shouldn’t take much longer.” He assures you, then glances back at the door. “Just, uh, try not to flirt with Doctor Langford too much when he comes in here, okay?”

“I’m not planning on it.” You say, rolling your eyes. “I don’t want my new dentist to ban me. I’d like to come back for checkups later.”

Jamie rubs the back of his neck, “It's not that he'd be uncomfortable, I think… But, the poor guy gets flustered real easy, and--"

Behind him, the door opens and shuts  effectively ending the conversation. You can’t turn your head much, but you can hear Jamie and Doctor Langford having a quiet conversation about your procedure. With a nod, and a "Be good!", Jamie takes a clipboard from Gabriel’s hands and walks out the door. Just like that, you’re alone with the dentist once more.

The stool beside you creaks as Gabriel gracefully lowers onto it. He addresses you gently, “As Jamie already explained, this is going to be quick and simple. After the local anesthetic kicks in, you may feel pressure, but you won’t feel any pain."

He leans forward slightly, catching your gaze. "... Jamie mentioned to me that you’ve been feeling some anxiety about your visit today, is that correct?”

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, and in an instant, a wave of something hits you. It isn’t quite the same sensation as you being high, really, this is more of an out-of-body experience.

Why were you even feeling anxious, anyway? “I was. But, I’m feeling much better now.” You reply, shrugging. 

“Oh?" He tilts his head. The picture of innocent curiosity. "May I ask what helped you relax? Beside the nitrous oxide, of course.”

You rack your brain. Well, when he came in just now, you felt more excited than scared. So, you tell him, “You, actually.”

“... Well, thank you.” He grins, laughing kindly. “I have a few patients with dentophobia, and it seems to help them to talk with me before procedures. Would you prefer that we have some extra consultation time in the future? Assuming you need it, of course.”

As he speaks, your eyes shut for just a moment. That warm, comfortable sensation floats through you… As your eyes flutter back open, that open and honest expression on his face just makes you melt. Why were you even afraid of this guy, anyways?

“I don’t have dentophobia.”

“Oh? … Then, may I ask you what specifically had been bothering you?” He asks, resting his forearm against your armrest.

“I have…” You take another breath, trying to collect yourself enough to find the right words. “... um… I have a d-... dental fetish…?”

“... A dental what?” He asks incredulously, those beautiful eyes going wide in… amusement? “D-did I mishear you there, or--”

“No, I’m serious. I have a huge kink for dental-stuff. All kinds of medical stuff, really.” You blurt. He blinks, then leans his stubbly chin against his palm. Taking that as a sign to go on, you explain, “Y’know, examinations, bondage stuff, blood-play, injections, even roleplay… Oh! And doctors are just, like, really hot to me. I like a dad who knows his way around a person’s body, y'know... And the authority, Jesus Christ…”

While you ramble, the dentist moves from being surprised to intrigued. By the end of your confession, he’s fully settled in, and smiling broadly. “Very interesting. Should I assume you mean me, then?”

“Oh, definitely. You’re super my type.” You giggle, grinning right back at him. “Handsome, sweet, intimidating… And your coat looks great on you.”

“You really think so?”

You nod, and your eyes sluggishly slide over his broad torso. He follows the movement of your eyes, and the tips of his ears flush pink.

After a moment of consideration, the dentist rises to his feet and crosses to the door. You feel your heart drop as you assume the worst, but it picks right back up as you hear the lock click.

In a beat, he’s back at your side, now looming over you with a syringe from the tray. The needle is long, glinting in the light above you. You can’t see his face clearly through the glare, but you can tell he’s pulled his medical mask up.

“Open your mouth.”

Without a thought, you do. He cups your jaw with his free hand, sliding his latex-covered thumb over your front teeth. The digit glides over your saliva-slick gums, gently pushing up your lip over your molars.

“Hold still,” He warns, leaning in close as he slides the cold steel into your gums and injects you with… something. After an uncomfortable pinch, he pulls the needle out and massages the area with his thumb again. You whine softly, tasting a hint of blood.

“That was good. You did well.” He murmurs. The praise warms your chest, making you feel more bold. As the pad of his thumb grazes the crown of your teeth, you lick the exposed back of his finger. Even through the shadows, you can see his eyebrows raise in surprise.

With a clatter, he drops the syringe back onto the tray and swings one slender leg over to the other side of your chair. His weight settles against you. He’s heavy, but not more than you can accept on your lap. As you rest your hands on his coat-covered hips, he forces your attention back to your mouth as he presses two fingers against your tongue. Reflexively, you close your mouth and begin to suck on him.

Gabriel made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between satisfaction and amusement. “... Good boy. You're a wonderful patient.” He purrs quietly, rubbing your cheek with his free-hand.

As you work your tongue against him, you can feel him subtly grinding himself against your abdomen. Cheekily, you slide your hand down his stomach and press your palm against the growing bulge in his pants. In an instant, his hand grabs your wrist and presses it firmly against the armrest.

“Ah-ah." He scolds, a playfully cruel tone in his voice. "This is your appointment. We will be keeping our focus on you… For the moment."

“If you insist.” You mumble around his fingers. He takes them out of your mouth, and skillfully fastens a strap around each of your wrists. As you try to lift your arms, you find them both completely immobilized. Combined with the mask still pumping calming gas into your lungs, you find that your upper body is entirely at his mercy.

"You'll be a good patient for me, won't you?" He asks, his fingers caressing your jaw. You try to nod, but his hold on your jaw forces you to remain looking up at him. "Use your words."

"Y-yes, Doctor." You stammer. Your tongue feels sluggish in your mouth, slurring your speech.

"Very good." He smiles beneath his mask. Your heart stutters in your chest as he plucks a tool off of the tray. His thumb flips a switch, and a soft whir fills the room. He presses the end of the tool to your chest, and for a terrifying moment, you think he's trying to drill through your ribs. But, as a deep buzz resonates along your skin, you recognize it as the same type of brush that Jamie had used to clean your teeth. As he traces along your torso, you find the vibration to be powerful and surprisingly pleasant.

"Now, you'll need to be mindful of the other patients. If they hear someone in distress in my clinic…" He warns, slowly moving the tool lower. Over your stomach, and the waistband of your pants… "It wouldn't be good for business."

You roll your hips under him, subtly presenting yourself. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

He nods, satisfied with your response. Then, he presses the smooth back of the brush head where you'd been hoping he would.

With a sharp gasp, you strain against your restraints. With your pants acting as a buffer, the vibration borders between not quite enough and just right. You have to fight to keep still enough for him to keep the pressure where you want it.

As you swallow back the tiny noises of pleasure that keep rising from your throat, Doctor Langford's attention is completely focused on you. As a particularly strong jolt passes through your body, he carefully tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Even as you come undone before him, he's still keeping you together.

"... Even through the fabric, you're still responding that strongly?" He clicks his tongue in mock disapproving. "Perhaps you need more anesthetic."

"No, no, please--" You choke out as he withdraws the brush. His pale eyes lock onto yours, urging you to go on. With a hint of desperation, you plead, "I-I want more… Please, keep going?"

"Well… Since you asked so nicely. We will need to get on with your procedure eventually, though." He heaves an exaggerated sigh, then pushes the buzzing tool back against your sensitivity.

This time, you're braced for it. You bite back a moan, and you can see him searching your flushed face. While your hips grind back against the tool, he palms himself idly through his dress pants.

The combination of your dreamy high and the overwhelming stimulation puts your mind in a fog that you can't fathom a world outside of. That's probably why it takes you a moment to register Gabriel's voice as it filters through the haze in your head.

"... still numb?"

"Mmmsorry, what?" You mumble, shaking your head quickly.

Gabriel laughs quietly, adjusting his grip as he repeats, "Is your mouth still numb?"

You prod the injection site with your tongue, then report, "Yeah, almost… um, half of my mouth is completely…. numb… Mmh..."

"Perfect. Could you hold this for me?" He asks, pointing at the still-buzzing tool pressed into your sensitivity.

You roll your eyes at him, nodding toward your fingers drumming loudly on the armrests.

"Oh! How silly of me." He asks with a dry laugh. Then, he easily unbuttons your pants. "How about we try this, then?"

Before you can respond, he slips the tool down the front of your pants. The tight fabric holds the tool against your skin, and with just a slight tilt, it finds your--

"Pfthfucking Christ, OKAY!!" You cry, body shivering as your hips instinctively raise off the plastic-covered chair.

"Too much?" The doctor asks, watching you squirm with obvious amusement.

"Nnnnhhh~, um, no, I mean, it's-- oh fucking fuckfuckfuck, leave it!" You pant, biting your tongue to keep yourself quiet. If the sensation was bordering on perfection before, then this toed the line of too much. But, as your body adjusts to the buzzing, it quickly turns into delicious overstimulation.

Again, Gabriel grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him once more. You can barely keep your eyes on his. Your body wants to close your eyes and get swallowed up by the climax slowly building in your stomach, but the rush that his gaze gives you is too wonderful to give up.

For a moment, a silvery glint catches your eye, but his fingers dig into your soft skin. "Look at me." He growls, pressing a thumb to your lips once more, "And open wide."

Eagerly, you do as he commands. You expect to feel his finger run against your tongue, but instead, he yanks your jaw down lower. Your mouth is open as wide as you can hold it, and you just hope that you won't start to drool.

His other hand flits through the corner of your vision, but through the laughing-gas mask, you don't have a clue what he's holding. Something metallic… Another tool.

Cold metal brushes the warmth of your cheek, exposing the numb side of your mouth.  Then, there's pressure on one of your molars. The one with the cavity, you think.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling." Gabriel says, a slightly husky edge to his tone. He's leaning in closer now, and you can see how flushed he is under his mask. With your pulse pounding in your ears, you realize how obviously drunk he is on your mutual arousal.

Something pops. Pressure releases in your mouth. You don't feel any pain, but you taste iron.

With a grin, Gabriel pulls down his mask and holds up the molar he just pulled from your skull.

All at once, he tugs your own mask up and off over your head, then closes the distance between the two of you.  The dentist kisses you, deep and hungry. You can taste him; his mouth is clean and cool, and the rich warmth of your own blood coats both of your tongues. His gloved hands are all over you, running up your arms and over your chest, tugging at your shirt, then up your neck and into your hair.

And all the while, the buzzing between your legs pushes you closer and closer. When Gabriel finally pulls away, he's breathing harder than you are. His hands fumble clumsily with his belt, before he  shakily unzips his pants. In seconds, he's holding himself in hand and stroking with an obvious goal in mind.

Yours hands, still bound, grip the armrests so hard that you're sure the nail marks will never come out. Blood drips down your chin steadily, soaking into the front of your shirt. Doctor Langford's mouth is smeared with red, as are his gloves.

His tongue darting out to taste what's left of you on his lips. He breathes, "You look gorgeous. You're about to cum, aren't you?"

All you can do is nod frantically. You're almost there; your legs are tensed and your hips shiver with anticipation. Just a few more seconds…

With a gasp, Gabriel braces himself with one hand on your headrest. Just as you slip over the edge into a shaking, cursing orgasm, he brings himself to completion on your torso. If you had more presence of mind, you'd be upset at how many fluids have soaked into your shirt. But, as your eyes squeeze shut under the intensity of your pleasure, you don't have a care in the world.

As your own cries of ecstasy die off, you can hear Gabriel panting hard against your neck. Your whole body glows with endorphins, urging you to keep your eyes shut and ride it out.

After a few moments, the dentist's weight shifts, and buzzing between your legs slows to a stop. The pressure on your wrists releases, and the tall man climbs off of your lap.

The stool to your right squeaks as his weight settles into it. You take in a slow, deep breath, and your mental fog seems to lift. Suddenly, everything feels heavy… Distantly, you hear your name being called...

Slowly, begrudgingly, you open your eyes to see Jamie sitting beside you.

"... Wh-... Um. How long were you--?" You squeak, quickly sitting bolt upright and moving to pull the tool out of your--...

The coy grin plastered on Jamie's face doesn't fade as he asks, "Have a good nap, kid?"

There's nothing there. Well, not nothing, but there's certainly no dental tools in your pants. Confused, you touch your mouth. You're still a bit numb, but you're not missing any teeth, and there's no blood. Your clothes are as clean as when you came in, and there's no sign of Doctor Langford.

Jamie clears his throat to stifle a giggle, then goes on. "Your filling went well. You must have fallen asleep pretty early in, since you were out cold by the time I came back."

Your face is burning. Was all of that a dream? You don't remember falling asleep… And, if the wet mess in your pants is anything to go off of, you know that something happened. ...At least in your mind.

"... Um. Did I… say anything stupid?" You ask sheepishly, massaging the numb portion of your face idly.

"Not as far as I know. Doctor Langford said you were a perfect patient." Jamie snorted, turning to the counter to staple together a freshly-printed packet of aftercare information. "He did want me to ask, did you feel any discomfort while you were asleep?"

"N-... no?"

"Oh. M'kay. He mentioned that you got kinda… squirmy… Y'know, when he turned on the drill." Jamie says with an audible smirk. "... He said he hopes that your dentophobia hasn't given you a poor impression of him."

You can't even think of a response that won't damn you to a deeper layer of hell. Either you had a wet dream in front of your dreamy new dentist, or…

"Anyways… You do need to come back for a follow-up appointment soon. Your wisdom teeth gotta be taken care of, ASAP." He says, turning back around and handing you the packet. "Wanna schedule that now?"

You hesitate, tapping the papers against the armrest. Part of you wants to flee the country and never speak the word teeth again. But… Then again… Would it really be the worst thing in the world to see him again?

With a coy grin to match Jamie's, you finally reply, "... What's the earliest you can get me in?"

[damiensdemon]

It Wasn't Fate

Chapter 1 - Trust and Judgement

In… and out.

Russell stretched up on his tiptoes as he plucked a bottle of neon-blue soda from the interior of the mini-mart cooler. The store is silent, save for the electric buzz of the lights and the tinny pop playing from an unseen radio. Behind the counter, the attendant played on his phone as he numbly let the night slip by.

Russell shouldn’t have been out so late. He knew that. In the desert, it's common knowledge that home is the best place to be when the sun goes down. But, with exhaustion glazed over his features he couldn’t say no to the sugar-kick his body was craving. And, damn it, I’m a grown fucking man. What’s the point of being an adult if you can’t even over-caffeinate yourself at two in the morning!

... How much caffeine is in this thing, anyway?

Curiously, he began examining the label of his soda and let the cooler door swing shut. A loud thunk resonated through the store, making him jump. Self-consciously, Russell checked for witnesses. Fortunately, he was alone in the aisle. 

He caught his reflection in the glass cooler door. Behind him, someone appeared from the back of the store.

Just out of Russell’s natural line of sight, but captured in the reflection, a tall figure stood motionless. At this distance, their only discernible features were their height, their big dark sunglasses, and a plain medical mask.

None of that was particularly alarming. Plenty of people in that area would prefer not to be seen, including Russell. He was wearing a mask as well, though his own hair was a few inches shorter than the tall-one's dark mane.

Still, the stillness of their rigid posture made Russ's paranoia kick in. Am I in their way? But, why are they waiting down there, then…?

With a second look-over, Russ decided that rigid wasn't the right word. Despite their height, they were slouched. Their broad shoulders rose and fell with steady and deep breaths. Within the pocket of their stained hoodie, their hands were stationary.

No, this person was focused .

Russell tightened his grip on his soda, summoning up his courage. Then, he quickly turned around to look directly at them.

In the time it took him to find the spot the figure had been standing in, they were already gone. A shiver shot up his back, but with a roll of his shoulders, Russ dismissed his paranoia.

Here I am, getting all freaked out about someone standing around in a store, when I've been standing here staring at them .

With an exasperated sigh, he shook his head and made his way to the front of the store with his prize in-hand.

 

The exit chimed an optimistic farewell as Russ stepped out onto the street. The wind noisily hurried past him, rustling the plastic bag clutched in his grip. As he smoothed his hair out of his face, the faint thrum of music floated to him from the bar across the street. With the breeze urging him along, he began his walk home.

Before his mind could wander off completely, another sound found its way to his ears. It was nearly drowned out by the pounding bass, but a distinctive door-chime rang out from the store behind him.

The store with only one other customer in it.

Gripping his bag firmly, he kept his head down and walked faster. The pang of fear he felt was, more than likely, irrational. But that didn’t stop the sensations of eyes boring a hole into his back. Deep breaths. In, and out.

“-- for me?”

Over the wind, he heard a voice. Just the tail-end of a sentence. With dread building in his stomach, he hesitantly glanced toward the speaker.

Across the street, in front of the bar, a gaggle of assorted inebriates wave back at him. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting to see. He risked a glance toward the store, but found no sign of the tall person. With a soft sigh of relief, Russ turned his attention to the group.

“What was that?” He called out.

A ripple of laughter passed through them, and one repeated the initial question. “Whatcha got for me, sweetie ? Did you buy me something?”

Oh, no.

His face burned, and he stammered back,“I-... It’s a soda.”

“I wanna sip!” A different lad in the herd shouted. To his right, a less-drunk friend slapped him on the arm. Undiscouraged, he continued, “C’mon, honey, I’m thirsty! ”

Russell fumbled, shifting his weight between his feet. He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again as the wind swept away the first syllable of his response. Taking it as a sign, he turned on his heel and walked away from the situation.

Behind him, he could hear little snippets of the men’s speech. What had initially begun as disappointed leering turned into playful threats, and more alarmingly, they were growing louder.

Closer.

Russ fought to swallow the tense knot in his throat as he prepared to break into a sprint.

I should have just stayed home .

“Hey! Slow down, we just wanna talk to you!”

He shut his eyes, hands balling into fists.

As if that’s the problem. I shouldn’t have to deal with this, just because I --

“ Stop. ”

This voice was different. It was commanding, nearly gravely. Russell’s heart stopped in its tracks, and so did his feet. His blood was ice as he forced himself to turn around and face it…

And found that it wasn’t directed at him. 

Between Russell and the approaching gaggle, an imposing figure stood firm. They had their back to him, but their stature is familiar. The person from the store…

For a long moment, the world stood still. The group silently watched the newcomer, and Russell remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted between the back of their hood and their stiff-looking fingers by their sides. They remained tense, waiting for a reason to lunge at the drunkards.

Then, the tension breaks as one of the men laughed, slurring, “What’s your fuckin’ deal , dude?”

“Yeah, we’re just messing around. Chill...” Another chimed in.

Stiffly, the tall figure twisted around to make eye contact with Russell. Between his sunglasses and thick mane of hair, Russ caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. His skin was pale, and his eyes were dark.

He gestured at the men, then croaked, “... D-... do you want them to follow you?”

Russ opened his mouth to reply, but his throat wouldn’t comply. Instead, he shook his head forcefully.

The man nodded, then turned back to the unwanted guests. “Please leave us alone.”

The same one who’d called out last time rolled his eyes, “Oh, or else wh- ”

One of his friend’s cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. The instigator gave him a confused look, before his friend whispered something to him.

Even in the dark, his face went pale. “... Oh . Fuck that.” He mumbled, putting up his hands.

"Whatever you want, kid. It’ll be your funeral.” Another shrugged, motioning for his group to follow him back to the bar. “It’s fucking freezing out here. Let's go."

Relief poured out of Russ’s body as they shuffled off. Still, his pulse pounded in his ears as he stared at the broad back of his savior.

Just in, and out. In, and out. Russell struggled to find a crumb of composure as the tall man finally turned around to properly face him.

In… and out.

The man shook the tension out of his hands, cleared his throat, then asked, “Are you okay?”

Russ nodded, throat still blocked by an invisible lump.

The stranger tilted his head as he observed the shorter guy from a respectful distance. It was impossible to tell exactly where he was looking through his glasses, which made Russell squirm in his skin.

“I’m Jeff.” He said abruptly, snapping Russ out of his thoughts. “Um… D-... Do you want me to walk home with you? I’m not busy or anything.”

Perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but Russ found himself struggling to process the situation. Should I be scared...? He kept those assholes away from me, but… What if he has something worse in mind for me?

“I-if you don’t want me to, I won’t be offended. I just-...” He leaned in, whispering horsley with a nod toward the bar, “Y’know, I can wait here and keep an eye on them, too.”

Something about his tone, mannerisms, his energy … He came off as genuinely innocent. Not much about his expression could be discerned, but it was obvious that Jeff was doing everything he could to put Russ at ease. If he was being honest with himself, Russ was pretty sure that if the dude wasn’t a foot and a half taller than himself and built like a shit brickhouse, Jeff would come off as entirely harmless.

Finally, Russ found the strength to speak. “... Thank you. My name is Russell. Can... I ask you something?”

“Oh, of course!” Jeff replied eagerly.

“Why did you do that?”

He hesitated. Reflexively, his fingers found a lock of his black hair and began to toy with it. “Well… I guess, um…” He fumbled, “I’ve seen you… around , before. And, I worry about people, y’know? There’s a lot of bad folk in this area. So, when I heard those guys yelling at you, I thought that you might want some help.”

Russell nodded. “... Okay. Thanks for stepping in.”

“It was no problem. Why wouldn’t I?” He said, shrugging. “Gotta earn my keep somehow, heh…”

Russ grinned, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “... If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind if you walked with me.”

Under his mask, a wide smile stretched Jeff’s mouth. “O-of course! Thank you!” 

He laughed softly, “For what? You’re the one doing me a favor.”

“Just… trusting me, really.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Russ took a step back, “Let’s get moving. It really is fucking freezing.”

Jeff nodded giddily, following after him. “Lead the way!”

 

The two of them walked side-by-side, but Jeff kept a comfortable distance from his companion. He stayed close enough that he never left Russ’s field of view, but never quite came within arm’s reach.

With his hands shoved deep into his hoodie’s pocket, Jeff stared off ahead of them. Occasionally, he’d glance behind them, but never looked directly at Russell for long.

As they waited for an intersection to clear, Russ piped up. “Weird question, but… You don’t think I’m a kid, do you?”

“No, of course not. Why would a kid be out this late?” Jeff replied, amused.

“Just wondering. I know I have a baby-face, but like...  Y’know, I’m old enough to drink. I’ve voted twice. ” Russell elaborated, adding with a snort, “I’ve had people threaten to call my parents on me before. I haven’t lived with them for five years.”

Jeff made a deep, wheezy sound in response. A laugh, perhaps? The noise alone made Russ laugh along with him.

“I-I can’t relate to that, I’m sorry.” Jeff replies, “I haven’t been carded in over 20 years.”

“Really? How old are you?” Russ blurted, eyes flicking over his tall companion’s form. The best indication he could get of Jeff’s age was that one of his knees kept popping. Beside that, he was a peak physical specimen.

“Um… 38.” He admitted.

“Oh. Huh…” Russ muttered, surprised. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff’s shoulders dipped forward.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“... What for?”

“For, um. Being me, I guess.” He gestured vaguely at himself. “I know I’m scary to look at. Obviously.”

Russ responded quickly, “You shouldn’t apologize for that. Like, you can’t help being massive, or intimidating, or... whatever. And even if you could --”

“You haven’t even seen what I look like.” Jeff cut in, idly toying with his hair again. “I like how I look. But, y’know, some people assume a lot about you by your appearance.”

“Ahah, I get that…” Russ sighed, “I wish more people realized that stuff doesn’t matter. How you look doesn’t make you a bad person, or a good person. It’s your actions that matter.”

“Exactly. I try really hard to be good. ”

“I think you are. I mean, you deescalated a really nasty situation for me. That’s pretty good”

Jeff’s gaze was fixed on the sidewalk ahead of them as he listened. Russell’s eyes settled on the pink skin of his neck as Jeff idly scratched at it. The skin there was splotchy and shiny in places, much like his hand. It reminded Russ of a burn.

Russ cleared his throat, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “You know what? You remind me a little of my older brother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Though… He might be a little taller than you are, actually.”

Jeff stumbled over an uneven slab of concrete, but recovered quickly. His stiff posture read to Russell as embarrassment.

“Th-... thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” He murmured, shoving his stiff fingers into his pocket once more.

“Hardly. It’s common decency.” Russ shrugged dismissively, slowing his stride as he fished out his house key.

With his head tilted back, Jeffery took in the apartment building towering above them. “Nice place.”

“For a one-bedroom? It’s not too bad. I’d like it a lot if they ever fixed the elevator. And the stairs..” Russell griped, and again, Jeff laughed. It was such a genuine sound of happiness, it made Russ’s chest ache.

When the giggle died off, he coughed. “Well. Um… Thank you for letting me walk you home. It really means a lot to me.”

“No, really, thank you .” Russ stood on the second step to the entryway, turning to face the man on the sidewalk. “If you hadn’t been there, tonight might have been… kinda shitty for me.”

“It’s just common decency.” Jeff fired back, rolling his shoulders.

Even two-steps up, Jeff still had a few inches on Russell. He didn't want to make the larger man uncomfortable by staring at him, but he could see the excitement radiating off of Jeff's body.

[damiensdemon]

Words: 4.8k

Summary: One-shot first-person drabble about having an unfortunate dental-fetish and a hot dentist.

"As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it."

Warnings: Smut, Dental Kink, Praise Kink, Horny Dentistry, Light Bondage, Light Bloodplay, Tooth Extraction, Needles, Transmasc Protag