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Some dentists recommend a check-up every six months. Others recommend, at the bare minimum, once a year. Itaru has been to his dentist for a whopping twelve times this year alone. And it’s only March.
Seated in an ever-so-slowly sinking cushion chair, Itaru heaves out a sigh as he stares into the ominous, emerald glow coming from the clinic’s aquarium lights. Whoa, that reminds him of that shitty LOL patch that removed Green Smite from the game entirely. Actually, yeah, what the fuck is he even doing here in this dentist clinic when he could be at home, farming for resources--
“Chigasaki-san?”
Ah, that’s why.
“Yes, I’m here,” he speaks, immediately rising to his feet to meet the reason why his Master Level’s been stagnant for the past few weeks. And god damn, he’s a good reason.
Chikage smiles, as if he’s listening to a live feed of Itaru’s train of thought, before quietly ushering his patient into the consultation room, hand hovering over the small of his back. As he shuts the door, Itaru turns towards Chikage, eyes looking absolutely everywhere but at him.
“You’re here for dental cleaning again, I assume?” he asks, as if he wouldn’t have detected the slightest hint of a problem with Itaru’s oral hygiene when he examined it a week ago. Itaru nods, subconsciously pushing his tongue against the backs of his incisors, only to freeze when he feels Chikage’s fingers ghosting over his jaw, pausing at the tip of his chin.
“I’ve already told you not to do that. It changes the positioning of your teeth,” Chikage scolds, before pulling away to put on a pair of latex gloves, “You wouldn’t want your beautiful smile to be hindered by crooked teeth, now, would you?”
Itaru absolutely does not know how to process this. Firstly, he still doesn’t believe that his tongue has the capability of shifting the position of his teeth. Secondly, did Mister Hot Dentist just call his smile beautiful or is he just saying that to be polite? And lastly, why the hell can’t he think of anything smooth to say back? He does it all the time at work?
God, he thinks, flirting is so much harder irl. If only this were an otome game.
“Now, what I’m going to get you to do for me is lie back onto this chair--careful of the lights above--and in a couple of minutes, the scaler should be fully sterilised, so I’ll begin cleaning the plaque and tartar from around your gum line and in-between your teeth. Sounds good?”
Itaru nods once more, because he can’t trust his mouth not to say something embarrassing like you know what else you could put between my teeth or I could lie back onto something a lot comfier. He’s taking no chances.
As Chikage leans over him to secure the bib around his neck and adjust the protective goggles on his face, Itaru tries his best not to audibly inhale his dentist’s cologne. Fuck, he smells good. Like, he obviously smells like antiseptic and that’s not really a conventional kind of “smelling good”, but hey, who said Itaru had conventional preferences anyway?
“Alright, please open wide.”
No words. He has. No. Words.
Swallowing the lump at the back of his throat, Itaru parts his lips, and stares resolutely at the ceiling, anticipating the next hour of simultaneous bliss and misery.
Chikage peers into Itaru’s mouth, diligently scraping at his teeth and occasionally bumping the inside of his cheeks with his guiding mirror. It kind of hurts, really, and this is the one part of his regular dentist visits that he honestly could live without.
No pain, no gain, no pain, no gain, Itaru chants to himself over and over again in his head. Darting his eyes towards the wall clock, he watches the second hand tick methodically, desperately waiting for his appointment to hit the half an hour mark.
Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… One…
“Alright, I think I’m done with your dental cleaning,” Chikage cheerfully says, placing his tools into a metal tray near the sink, “Please gargle the water in the cup on your left, thank you.”
Itaru obediently follows, his experience informing him not to look at the red-tinged water from his mouth that spirals down the basin.
“I bet you’ve been looking forward to this part, am I right?” Chikage teases, as he changes into a fresh pair of gloves.
Itaru reddens. He probably caught him staring at the clock for too long. “Perhaps.”
“There’s no need to feel embarrassed, Chigasaki-san. The post-cleaning massage is meant to be something to look forward to,” he says, the corner of his lips curling up into an awfully devilish smirk. “Please open wide again.”
Parting his lips once more, Itaru returns his gaze to the ceiling, his heartbeat loud and clear in his eardrums.
Chikage hums under his breath, reaching his fingers into Itaru’s mouth, and massaging gentle circles into his sore gums. And holy fucking shit , this is so worth the embarrassment of booking twelve appointments.
Itaru swears his dentist must have magic fingers or something, because he’s honestly tried to massage his gums at home in front of the mirror, and it did nothing for him. But when he’s here, prostrated on his personal cuspidor of humiliation with a complete stranger’s fingers in his mouth, oh man. Oh man.
“A-Ah,” he stutters, when Chikage slides his thumbs across the underside of his tongue, prompting a strange ticklish sensation from the sides of his jaws. His shoulders clench, tense, and his fingers dig into the plush leather of the seat, scrambling to find something to clutch onto during this ordeal.
“That was a cute sound you just made, Chigasaki-san,” Chikage coaxes, his fingers skilfully playing with the web of Itaru’s tongue.
Itaru trembles, shutting his eyes as he breathes heavily through his mouth. He knows that his face is flushed. He feels like he’s burning, and burning, and burning, and Chikage’s just watching, standing at the sidelines with a can of gasoline cradled in his arms.
As he continues to rub and press and play and touch, Itaru feels like he’s slowly being pushed towards the brink of insanity. He’s not even sure if dentists are supposed to make you feel like this. And it might just be the glare of the lights, but he swears he sees that the tips of Chikage’s ears are dusted with a soft blush--but of course, he feels like he’s borderline delirious, so it could very well just be his own imagination (which is currently running at approximately 800 miles per hour).
Squirming in his chair, Itaru mewls as Chikage relentlessly torments him, fingers quickly alternating speeds between soothing and devastating, and in his delirium, he does something he’s never done before in the eleven past appointments he’s had with Chikage--he grasps at the front of his scrubs.
Chikage instantly halts his actions, the smug look on his face wiped to a clean slate as his eyes slowly trail down to Itaru’s quivering hand. Itaru quickly releases his grip, shell-shocked to oblivion. If they hadn’t barrelled past a professional dentist-patient relationship already, this definitely pushes it over the edge. Fuck, Itaru thinks, and it was all going so well.
Just as apologies are about to flood out of his mouth, Itaru finds himself hoisted up against his chair--Chikage’s fingers still between his lips--and kissed within an inch of his life.
He moans, both out of pleasure and surprise, as Chikage returns to exploring every inch of his mouth, fingers prying him wide open. He kisses with a hunger insatiable, determined to suck and lick and press at him until Itaru’s knees go weak (If he weren’t already sitting down, Itaru would’ve definitely collapsed by now).
“W-Wai... Wait,” Itaru whimpers, as his dentist licks at his sensitive gums, prompting generous silver trails of saliva to come spilling down his chin and pooling on his bib. His hands find themselves clutching at Chikage’s wrists, as he allows him to ravish him entirely--tongue, lips, teeth, gums and all.
After what feels like almost an eternity, Chikage pulls his lips and fingers away, leaving both of them to pant greedily for oxygen. Itaru sputters, his cheeks almost entirely covered in spit. He feels feverish, his eyelids hooded and jaw still twitching from being held open for so long.
“I… I apologise, Chigasaki-san,” Chikage quietly says, wiping his mouth, “I do not know what came over me. I didn't mean to do that. Truly.”
All of a sudden, Itaru feels dirty. Like a rag that’s been completely wrung out after being used to wash the sink. He thinks he doesn’t even have the energy to wipe his face clean.
“I wanted our first kiss to be something gentle, or sweet. I… I really didn’t mean to do it, well, like that.”
And just like that, Itaru feels like his HP bar’s been replenished.
“S-Sorry? You wanted--?”
Chikage snorts, plucking a tissue from its box to wipe at Itaru’s chin with a fond look on his face. ”Did you honestly think that dentists give patients post-cleaning massages?”
“I- Well… I did find it a little odd,” Itaru mumbles, “But like, how would I know? I’m not a dentist…”
Laughing, Chikage leans in to prod Itaru’s nose, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Hey, that makes me kinda nervous. You better not be accepting massages from any other dentists, okay?”
“Oh, trust me,” Itaru sighs, running his tongue over the crowns of his teeth, “I think I’ve had enough dental check-ups for a lifetime.”