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Jeongguk hated the dentist. Truly, deeply hated it. Everything about the place made his skin crawl: the sharp, sterile smell that clung to the air, the high-pitched screech of the drill echoing through the halls, the suffocating feeling of being trapped in that chair. It looked less like medical equipment and more like something ripped straight from a Victorian torture chamber, if you asked him.
But a relentless toothache had finally backed him into a corner, and now he sat in the waiting room of Cheongha Dental Clinic, his leg bouncing anxiously and his palms damp against the denim stretched over his thighs.
The waiting room looked like it had been frozen in time sometime around 2009 and then quietly abandoned. Everything was varying shades of beige and off-white, from the stiff vinyl chairs lining the walls to the stained carpet beneath Jeongguk’s sneakers. The air smelled aggressively clean, thick with disinfectant and the faint minty scent of fluoride, but underneath it lingered something older—dust trapped in air vents and coffee that had been sitting on a burner too long. Above him, fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, flickering every few seconds in a way that made the entire room feel vaguely haunted. A muted television mounted in the corner played a daytime cooking show no one was watching, subtitles lagging half a sentence behind the chef’s exaggerated smile.
The walls were cluttered with faded dental posters featuring unnaturally happy people flashing blindingly white smiles, their expressions uncanny enough to make Jeongguk uneasy. One poster had a cartoon molar giving a thumbs-up beside the words FLOSS DAILY! in peeling blue letters. Another showed a family of four laughing around a dinner table, every single tooth impossibly straight and gleaming beneath harsh studio lighting. In the corner sat a tiny wooden table littered with worn-out magazines—celebrity gossip issues from years ago, a crumpled travel magazine with a torn cover, and an old home décor catalog curled at the edges from too many bored hands flipping through it. Even the fake plant beside the reception desk looked miserable, its dusty plastic leaves drooping sadly toward the floor.
Jeongguk glanced at the time on his phone again. 2:17 p.m. Two minutes past his appointment time. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have cared less about punctuality, but Dr. Min ran his office with the terrifying efficiency of a military commander. Usually, patients barely had enough time to check in before being whisked away into the fluorescent abyss. The fact that Jeongguk was still sitting here must mean that something was deeply, cosmically wrong.
His thumb tapped nervously against the edge of his phone as his gaze drifted around the waiting room for the hundredth time. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, washing everything in a sickly pale glow that made the beige walls somehow look even sadder. Somewhere down the hall, a drill whined to life, followed by the muffled sound of someone gargling. Jeongguk resisted the urge to get up and leave immediately. Maybe if he disappeared now, everyone would just assume he died. Honestly, that felt like a more dignified outcome than whatever the hell awaited him behind those doors.
But the universe wasn’t done screwing with him just yet. The door to the back office swung open, and Jeongguk instinctively straightened, bracing for the familiar, austere presence of Dr. Min—silver-haired, sharply dressed, and wearing the kind of expression that made it very clear he considered dentistry a necessary punishment for humanity rather than a profession.
Instead, someone else stepped through the doorway.
Jeongguk’s thoughts didn’t just stop. They collapsed, like a fucked-up game of psychological Jenga.
The man who entered looked almost unreal in the way certain things do when your brain refuses to process them properly on the first attempt. He was tall, composed, and carried himself with an effortless confidence that made the entire space feel, absurdly, more refined just by his presence. A crisp white lab coat hung over his frame, but even that couldn’t dull the impression he gave off—it looked less like clinical uniform and more like something tailored specifically to him, as if even medical authority had decided to flatter his proportions.
His black hair was styled with careful intention, soft and slightly parted so that a few strands fell across his forehead in a way that felt both natural and almost too perfect to be accidental. It framed his face—an infuriatingly beautiful face—with a kind of quiet precision: smooth skin, balanced features, and an elegance in his expression that didn’t demand attention but inevitably stole it anyway. There was something almost gentle about him, too, softened further by the way his eyes curved when he smiled at the receptionist—warm, patient, familiar in a way that made him seem less like a stranger and more like someone you were supposed to trust immediately.
It was unfair, Jeongguk thought distantly, that someone could look like that and still be allowed to practice medicine.
He definitely wasn’t supposed to be real. People like that belonged in advertisements, or behind glass in art museums, or at the very least somewhere significantly less fluorescent than Cheongha Dental Clinic. Jeongguk briefly considered the possibility that his toothache had escalated into full-blown hallucinations, because that would honestly make more sense than this.
“Jeongguk-ssi?”
The voice snapped him back like a rubber band. He blinked up.
The man was now looking directly at him, clipboard in hand, smiling as if this were an entirely normal day and not a catastrophic disruption of Jeongguk’s mental stability. A name tag on his coat read Dr. Kim Seokjin in clean, precise lettering.
Of course it did.
When their eyes met properly, Dr. Kim’s smile softened—just slightly wider, just slightly warmer—and Jeongguk felt something unhelpfully betray him in his chest.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Dr. Kim said, voice calm and smooth, lower than expected and effortlessly steady. “Dr. Min had a family emergency, so I’ll be covering his appointments today. If you’ll follow me…” He gestured toward the open doorway, and for a second, Jeongguk’s brain simply refused to cooperate. He stayed frozen in place, hands still gripping his knees like standing up would officially count as consenting to his own execution.
Then, slowly, as if moving through water, Jeongguk pushed himself to his feet and forced his legs to carry him forward through sheer will.
The walk down the hallway lasted exactly eleven seconds, but to Jeongguk, it felt like walking into a different dimension. One where hot dentists existed, and your body still insisted on reacting to your anxiety like it had a vendetta against your dignity.
Dr. Kim led him into a room at the end of the hall. The space was clean, sterile, and intimidating in exactly the way Jeongguk expected—just with significantly better lighting than the waiting area. A large dental chair sat in the center, covered in crinkly white paper, surrounded by metal trays of tools that gleamed menacingly under bright overhead lights. The walls were white, the floor was white, and the counter was covered in neat rows of sealed instruments that made Jeongguk’s stomach turn.
“Please, have a seat,” Dr. Kim said, gesturing to the chair as he closed the door behind them. The click of the lock was so quiet that Jeongguk almost missed it, but it sent a jolt through him anyway. Now they were sealed in together—just the two of them, and the lingering scent of antiseptic and toothpaste.
Jeongguk hesitated for half a second before reluctantly lowering himself into the chair, which immediately protested under his weight with a loud crinkle that echoed in the unnervingly quiet room. The paper beneath him felt thin and cheap, scratchy against the back of his thighs even through the denim. He shifted, trying and failing to get comfortable, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed he felt—lying back with nothing between him and this beautiful, ridiculously composed man except for flimsy paper and clinical politeness.
Dr. Kim moved to the counter, opening drawers with quiet efficiency as he gathered supplies. His movements were precise, practiced, and strangely graceful, as though years of repetition had turned even the smallest tasks into something almost artistic. When he turned back around, he was holding a pair of blue nitrile gloves. Jeongguk found himself watching with embarrassing focus as Dr. Kim slid them on with slow, deliberate care—fingers disappearing one by one into the thin material before he tugged each glove snug at the wrist. The faint snap of latex echoed softly through the room, and something about the ritual of it—the smooth certainty, the effortless confidence—was oddly mesmerizing.
By the time Dr. Kim flexed his hands to settle the gloves into place, Jeongguk had almost forgotten to breathe.
“Alright,” Dr. Kim said, stepping closer until he was standing beside the chair. He leaned in just enough for Jeongguk to catch a glimpse of the faint curve of his collarbone beneath the neatly pressed white coat.
“What brings you in today, Jeongguk?”
The sound of his name in Dr. Kim's voice sent an unexpected shiver down Jeongguk's spine. It was fucking ridiculous, really—he'd heard countless people say his name before—but somehow, coming from him, it felt different. Warmer. More… personal. And far more dangerous than it had any right to be.
Jeongguk swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. “Toothache,” he managed, feeling instantly stupid for how blunt it sounded. “Lower left. It’s been, uh… sensitive.”
Dr. Kim nodded, his expression remaining impossibly calm as he stepped closer and leaned over the chair. He reached for a small dental mirror, peeling open the sterile packaging with practiced ease.
“Sensitive how?” he asked gently. “Hot or cold? Pressure?”
“Cold,” Jeongguk said, his throat tight. “Sometimes pressure, too.”
“Alright,” Dr. Kim murmured, adjusting the overhead light until it shone directly into Jeongguk's face. Jeongguk flinched at the brightness, blinking rapidly. “We’ll take a look. Try to relax for me.” His voice dropped slightly on the last phrase, so soft it almost felt intimate.
Yeah, right.
Relax, as if Jeongguk’s entire body wasn’t screaming the exact opposite.
He clenched his fists in his lap, fingers digging into his jeans, and forced himself to stay still as Dr. Kim moved to position the chair. There was a low whirring sound as it reclined, slow and inexorable, until Jeongguk was lying flat on his back with Dr. Kim leaning over him—face framed against the bright light, gloves gleaming under the glare. The proximity was dizzying.
“Open wide,” Dr. Kim said quietly, and Jeongguk’s breath hitched. He’d never realized how loaded those words could feel. He obeyed anyway, parting his lips slowly, feeling vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with dental tools.
The mirror was cool against his tongue as Dr. Kim angled it carefully, probing gently at the sensitive area. Jeongguk’s jaw trembled involuntarily.
“It’s okay,” Dr. Kim murmured, his voice soothing as he adjusted the mirror. “Just breathe for me, Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the sound of Dr. Kim’s steady breathing. He could feel the gentle pressure of Dr. Kim's fingers against the inside of his cheek, the heat of his skin through the thin latex. It was terrifyingly, embarrassingly intimate—more so than any actual sexual encounter he’d had in years.
That being said, Jeongguk hadn’t gotten laid in a while, which would explain this sudden, touch-starved wave washing over him.
Then Dr. Kim’s gloved thumb brushed the tip of Jeongguk's tongue as he repositioned the mirror, and Jeongguk’s whole body jolted.
“Sorry,” Dr. Kim said immediately, pulling back slightly. His tone was still gentle, but there was something else in it now—something observant, almost knowing.
“S’okay,” Jeongguk choked out, cheeks burning.
Dr. Kim didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned closer, their faces nearly touching as he angled the light again. He smelled faintly of antiseptic and something else—something warm and clean, like fresh linen and skin.
“Are you nervous?” Dr. Kim asked quietly, his breath ghosting across Jeongguk's cheek.
Jeongguk nodded a little too quickly, the motion making him feel embarrassingly small—almost childlike under the weight of his own reaction.
“That’s normal,” Dr. Kim said quietly, setting the mirror down with a soft click before reaching for the dental pick.
“A lot of people get anxious here. Even me, sometimes—and I’m a dentist,” he added, almost gently amused. “I know the tools can look intimidating, but I promise I’ll be careful.”
He paused, the pick held lightly between his gloved fingers, suspended for a moment like it weighed more than it should. “Just breathe for me, alright? And tell me if anything feels too sharp. I’ll stop right away.”
Jeongguk nodded again, too overwhelmed to speak.
The scraping of metal against his teeth was sharper than he remembered. Each pass sent a faint vibration through his skull, making him flinch despite himself. He tried to steady his breathing, but his chest still felt tight, the sound of the pick against enamel seeming to fill the entire room until there was nothing else left to focus on.
“Easy,” Dr. Kim murmured, his voice calm and steady. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer, and then we’ll move on to the cleaning.”
His voice settled over Jeongguk like something warm and steady, easing the tension in his chest. He forced himself to relax beneath Dr. Kim’s careful touch, clinging to the steady pressure of his gloved fingers as a grounding point in the strange, overwhelming closeness.
But as he did, a new problem began to arise—quite literally—in the form of a slow, undeniable warmth pooling low in his stomach. It was mortifying.
He tried to think about something else. Taxes, his grandma, the weird stain on the ceiling of his bedroom. But the gentle praise, the clinical yet intimate proximity, the firm grip of Dr. Kim’s hand on his shoulder—it was all too much.
Holy shit. Was he about to get a boner at the fucking dentist?
Jeongguk squeezed his eyes shut tighter, as if physical force alone could reverse the blood flow, could will away the traitorous heat gathering at the base of his spine. He focused on the discomfort of the chair, the crinkle of the paper beneath him, anything to ground himself in the clinical reality of the situation and not in the sudden, thudding pulse of arousal. But Dr. Kim’s gloved fingers were back, gently probing the tender gumline around the aching molar, and the dual sensations of pain and pleasure, of sterile touch and intimate invasion, were a dizzying combination. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped his lips before he could swallow it down.
Dr. Kim’s movements stilled.
The scraping stopped. The room seemed to shrink around the sudden silence, the buzz of the overhead light suddenly deafening. Jeongguk’s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, trapped beat. He’d been caught. There was no other explanation. He was going to be asked to leave, maybe blacklisted from every dental clinic in the city, branded as the pervert who got turned on by a routine cleaning. He braced for the professional, detached rebuke. Instead, he felt a gloved thumb, impossibly gentle, brush against his cheekbone, wiping away a tear he hadn’t even realized had escaped.
“There, there,” Dr. Kim’s voice was a low murmur, right beside his ear, a startlingly intimate sound in the sterile room. “I know it’s uncomfortable. You’re being so brave for me, Jeongguk. I’m almost done, okay?”
The cooing sympathy was laced with something else, something that curled hot and low in Jeongguk’s gut. It was mocking, but in a way that felt less like ridicule and more like a shared, wicked secret.
He wasn't being scolded. He was being... praised.
The thought sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to his groin, and the crinkle of the paper beneath him sounded like a gunshot as his hips twitched in a hopeless attempt to find relief.
This was a nightmare. A beautiful, humiliating, intensely arousing nightmare.
Dr. Kim resumed his work, but the atmosphere had irrevocably shifted, the air thick with unspoken things, the tension no longer just about the dental tool.
Dr. Kim set the pick down with a deliberate, soft clink against the metal tray. The sound was too loud in the sudden, charged silence. He reached for the prophylaxis paste, squeezing a small amount onto a small, soft-bristled brush. The swirl of minty pink paste against the sterile white tray was almost obscene.
“Alright, Jeongguk,” he said, his voice a low, soothing murmur, but now it carried an undercurrent of something new, something that vibrated in the space between them. “Time for the cleaning. This part is much nicer, I promise.” He didn’t wait for a response before leaning back over, the overhead light catching the sharp, clean line of his jaw.
The whir of the polisher started, a low, persistent hum that seemed to sink directly into Jeongguk’s bones. Dr. Kim placed a firm, gloved hand on Jeongguk’s jaw, his thumb resting just below the corner of his mouth, holding him steady. The touch was proprietary, a clear and unspoken claim. He guided the rotating brush to Jeongguk’s front teeth, the minty paste tasting sharp and sweet. The sensation was a dizzying contradiction—the slight grit of the paste against the smooth vibration of the brush, the firm hold of Dr. Kim’s fingers, the overwhelming proximity of his body. Jeongguk’s eyes fluttered shut, a shaky exhale escaping him as he fought to keep still, to not press into the touch or arch his back off the chair.
God, he was hard. Fully, uncomfortably, undeniably hard.
The denim of his jeans was suddenly a cage, confining and unforgiving, and the desperate need for friction was a physical ache. He clenched his fists in his lap, nails digging into his palms, anything to distract from the throb between his legs. Dr. Kim’s thumb stroked once, a slow, deliberate pass over the skin of his jaw, a gesture that was both comforting and possessive.
"There we go," Dr. Kim murmured, the words a low vibration against the charged air of the room. "Almost finished up front."
He guided the buzzing brush along Jeongguk's incisors, the motion smooth and practiced. His other hand, the one holding Jeongguk's jaw steady, remained a firm, grounding pressure. Then, the pad of his thumb, still clad in the thin blue nitrile, swiped gently across Jeongguk's lower lip, collecting a stray smear of pink paste. The touch was electric, a spark of deliberate intimacy disguised as clinical care.
And then, he said the unthinkable. What made Jeongguk realize that this wasn’t all in his hormonal brain.
“Such a good boy for me.”
His words were a quiet murmur, barely audible over the hum of the brush, but they landed with the force of a physical blow, stealing the air from Jeongguk’s lungs.
Fuck. The Hot Dentist™ knew. He absolutely knew.
He was leaning in close enough now that Jeongguk could make out every individual lash caught in the harsh dental light, the reflection of it sharp in his eyes. His expression remained perfectly composed—clinical, professional—but there was something else there too, something quieter and far more dangerous. A flicker of amusement. Like he could see straight through him, and found the whole thing mildly entertaining.
The brush moved to Jeongguk's molars, the pressure a bit more insistent now, a slow, circling grind against the sensitive back teeth. Dr. Kim’s gaze remained fixed on him, unwavering. He was watching Jeongguk's every hitched breath, every minute tremor, with the focus of a predator. The professional facade was a transparent veil, and behind it, something far more dangerous was watching him with rapt attention.
"Doing so well for me, Jeongguk-ssi. Just a little more on this side. I know it's a lot to hold still for such a long time." The praise was a poison, sweet and debilitating, seeping into his veins and making him feel pliant, boneless. He wanted to be good. He wanted to keep Dr. Kim’s eyes on him. The thought was a terrifying revelation.
"You're handling this so much better than my last patient. He was a bit of a crybaby." Another murmur, another swipe of the thumb over his lip, this one lingering just a fraction too long. The comparison, the subtle jab, it made Jeongguk's stomach clench with a mix of shame and a weird, hot pride.
He wasn't a crybaby. He was being good.
A fresh wave of heat washed over him, and he had to bite back a moan.
Dr. Kim finally switched off the polisher, the sudden silence leaving a ringing in Jeongguk's ears. He set the tool down, then turned back, his gloved fingers coming to rest on either side of Jeongguk's face, framing it. His thumbs traced the line of Jeongguk's jaw, a slow, possessive caress.
“Now for the flossing. We have to be extra thorough, don't we? Make sure every little spot is perfectly clean." His gaze dropped from Jeongguk's eyes to his mouth, and the hunger in it was now unmistakable.
He picked up the floss, a single, gleaming strand, and leaned in so close their bodies were almost touching. The scent of him—clean skin, a hint of something floral, and the clinical tang of antiseptic—filled Jeongguk’s senses, overwhelming him. The world had shrunk to this chair, this room, this man. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, trapped beat against the confines of his chest.
“Open wide for me again,” Dr. Kim instructed, his voice a low, commanding purr that vibrated straight through Jeongguk’s bones. There was no pretense of a routine check-up anymore. This was a test. A command. Jeongguk’s lips parted before his brain could even process the thought.
The floss slid between his teeth with a slick, sawing motion, a familiar feeling, but it was different now. Dr. Kim's fingers moved with deliberate slowness, the press of them against his lips and tongue a calculated intimacy. The floss dug into his gumline, a sharp, almost painful sensation that made him whimper around the invading digits.
"Hm. A bit of bleeding. You haven't been flossing, have you?" Dr. Kim’s tone was chiding, a disappointed tsk escaping him. "We'll have to teach you some better habits." He pulled the floss free, then did it again, slower this time, the drag of the string a tantalizing friction. His gloved finger pressed firmly on Jeongguk's tongue, holding it down as he worked. "You need to take better care of this pretty mouth of yours."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jeongguk was going to die,right here in this chair.
Dr. Kim worked with a maddening, thorough precision, sliding the floss between each tooth with a controlled back-and-forth motion. The metallic tang of blood bloomed on Jeongguk’s tongue, a coppery counterpoint to the mint of the paste. Each pass ended with a deliberate press of Dr. Kim's gloved fingertip against Jeongguk's tongue, a small, dominating gesture that silenced any whimper before it could fully form. When he finally pulled away, the absence of his touch was a physical ache.
"There. All clean. You did so well, Jeongguk." The praise was a final, devastating blow. "Now, sit up for me. You can rinse."
The chair whirred back to an upright position, and Jeongguk blinked, the room tilting slightly as he adjusted. Dr. Kim handed him a small, disposable cup of water, their fingers brushing for an instant, the blue nitrile cool against his heated skin. Jeongguk took it with a trembling hand, the crinkle of the plastic cup deafening in the silence. He swished the water around his mouth, the action feeling absurdly mundane after the clinical intimacy of the past few minutes. He leaned over the small sink built into the chair's armrest and spat, the pink-tinged water swirling down the drain. When he straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Dr. Kim was leaning against the counter, watching him with an unnervingly patient smile.
"I believe we're the last ones here," Dr. Kim said, his voice conversational, as if he were commenting on the weather. He gestured vaguely toward the door with one gloved hand. "The receptionist locked up on her way out. Left me the keys." He adjusted his hips forward in his seat, and the movement was slow, deliberate.
His gaze dropped from Jeongguk's face, down the length of his body, and lingered with blatant intention on the obvious, straining bulge in his jeans. "So it seems we have the entire office to ourselves. How… convenient."
Jeongguk’s eyes snap down to his own lap, and a mortifying wave of heat washes over him, so intense he feels dizzy. The denim is stretched taut over his erection, a dark, damp spot already forming at the head where he’s leaking through the fabric. He’s trapped, a specimen pinned under a microscope, and the beautiful, terrifying dentist is the one holding the pins. The urge to cover himself is overwhelming, a primal instinct for modesty, but his arms feel like lead, useless at his sides.
“I—I’m so sorry, Dr. Kim,” he stammers, the words thick and clumsy in a mouth that still tastes of blood and mint. He wants to curl into a ball and die, or maybe bolt for the door, but Dr. Kim’s gaze is an anchor, holding him fast. “This is so inappropriate, I don’t know what’s—”
A soft, dark chuckle cuts him off. "Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for." Dr. Kim rises from his stool takes a slow step closer, the squeak of his sterile shoes on the linoleum a sharp punctuation in the quiet room. He reaches out, the movement fluid and confident, and cups Jeongguk’s jaw in his gloved hand. The latex is smooth, cool, and the pressure is firm, undeniable. "In fact... I find it quite flattering. You've been so good for me, Jeongguk. So pliant. Letting me take care of you."
Dr. Kim’s thumb stroked over Jeongguk’s jawline, a slow, possessive gesture that sent shivers cascading down Jeongguk’s spine. His eyes, dark and intent, held a universe of promises that Jeongguk was desperate to explore. The gloved fingers, which had moments ago been so clinical, now felt like instruments of a different kind—a different kind of examination, one that made Jeongguk’s entire body thrum with a need so profound it was frightening. Dr. Kim’s gaze held his, a silent command that required no words.
The gloved thumb stroking Jeongguk's jawline paused, its pressure increasing slightly, a silent command that drew a soft, involuntary gasp from Jeongguk's lips. Dr. Kim’s other hand, which had been resting casually on the counter, moved with deliberate slowness, rising to sink into the dark strands of Jeongguk’s hair. His fingers were gentle at first, carding through the soft locks, but then they tightened, curling into a firm, possessive grip at the nape of his neck. The sharp tug pulled Jeongguk’s head back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat, and he couldn't stop the desperate whimper that escaped him. The position was submissive, a silent offering, and the power dynamic shifted so completely it left him breathless.
“Such a pretty mouth, Ggukie,” Dr. Kim murmured, the nickname a shock of intimacy that made Jeongguk’s hips stutter. His thumb, still pressing against Jeongguk's jaw, traced the outline of his lower lip, a teasing, maddening caress. The glove was smooth, impersonal, a stark contrast to the heat of Dr. Kim's skin beneath it. “I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. Thinking about how good it would look wrapped around my cock.”
A jolt of pure, unadulterated lust shot through Jeongguk, so intense it made his vision swim. He was already leaking steadily now, the fabric of his jeans growing damp and uncomfortable, but the discomfort was a distant, irrelevant concern. All that mattered was the hand in his hair, the praise dripping from those beautiful lips, the dark promise in Dr. Kim's eyes.
"I think it's time we put it to a better use," Dr. Kim continued, his voice dropping to a low, commanding purr that vibrated straight to Jeongguk's core. The grip in his hair tightened for a moment, a proprietary claim that brooked no argument, and then loosened, sending Jeongguk leaning forward, chasing the contact.
Dr. Kim’s free hand moved to the front of his own trousers, the sound of the metal buckle clicking open shockingly loud in the sterile silence. He tugged the belt free with a slow, deliberate pull, the leather whispering against the fabric. Jeongguk’s eyes were locked on the movement, his breath catching in his throat as Dr. Kim’s fingers went to the button of his slacks, then the zipper. Each action was performed with a controlled, almost lazy grace that made it feel like a private, teasing show staged just for him. The trousers parted, revealing the dark fabric of the boxer briefs beneath, straining against the impressive length they contained. The outline of Dr. Kim’s cock was clear, thick and heavy, nestled against one thigh, and the sight alone was enough to make Jeongguk’s mouth flood with saliva.
Then, Dr. Kim hooked his thumbs into the waistband of both his trousers and underwear, pushing them down in one smooth motion. His cock sprang free, and the sheer, breathtaking reality of it made Jeongguk’s head spin. It was, without exaggeration, beautiful. Perfectly formed and proportioned, it rose from a neatly trimmed thatch of dark hair, curving slightly upward toward his navel. The flushed head was a perfect, glossy crown, the slit already beading with a single, pearly drop of fluid that caught the harsh overhead light. It was long and thick, the skin smooth and velvety over a rigid, formidable core, with a prominent vein snaking along the underside that Jeongguk’s eyes helplessly traced. The sight of it, so potent and real and so close, triggered an primal hunger in him, a deep, guttural need to taste, to feel its weight on his tongue. His lips parted unconsciously, a soft, needy sound escaping him as the world narrowed down to the magnificent cock before him.
“You’re so big,” Jeongguk breathed out, the words a reverent, awed whisper. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t think about anything but the sheer, intimidating size of him, the promise of how it would feel stretching his lips, filling his throat. Dr. Kim gave a soft, amused hum, the sound vibrating in the charged air between them. His tight grip returned to Jeongguk’s hair, a silent, guiding pressure that pulled him closer, until he could feel the radiating heat of Dr. Kim’s arousal against his cheek. The scent was intoxicating—clean skin, a hint of sterile antiseptic, and the heady, musky aroma of pure, unadulterated masculinity. Dr. Kim was a feast laid out before a starving man, and Jeongguk was ravenous.
“Eyes on me, Jeongguk,” Dr. Kim commanded, his voice a low, authoritative purr that sent a fresh wave of heat straight to Jeongguk’s aching groin. He complied instantly, tearing his gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of Dr. Kim’s cock to look up at him.
The crinkly paper of the dental chair was loud under Jeongguk as he shifted, the sound a stark reminder of the clinical setting they were so thoroughly corrupting. He was still seated, looking up from a position of complete vulnerability, while Dr. Kim stood before him—a monolith of authority and desire. The white lab coat remained, stark and pristine, but now it was open, framing the revealed flesh of his torso and the formidable length of his cock, making the image even more potent. Dr. Kim used the hand still fisted in Jeongguk's hair to guide him, tilting his head just so, exposing the smooth plane of his cheek.
With a soft, controlled grunt, Dr. Kim shifted his hips, bringing the heavy weight of his cock down in a light, stinging slap against Jeongguk's cheek. The impact was a shock, not of pain, but of pure, unadulterated possession. The velvety skin was hot against his own, the heft of it undeniable. He did it again, a little harder this time, the wet head leaving a cool, glistening smear of pre-come on Jeongguk's skin. The act was filthy, a claiming, and Jeongguk’s cock throbbed in response, leaking messily into the confines of his jeans. He closed his eyes, a whine building in his chest, lost in the sensory overload—the grip in his hair, the scent of him, the lingering heat on his cheek.
Then, the grip in his hair tightened, a clear command. "Open up for me, Ggukie. Be a good boy and take what I give you."
The words were a dark, sweet poison. Jeongguk’s lips parted instantly, a willing, supplicant offering.
Dr. Kim guided the flared head of his cock to Jeongguk’s lips, smearing the bead of pre-come across them like a gloss. The salty-bitter taste exploded on Jeongguk's tongue, and he moaned, a sound of pure, unbridled need. Slowly, inexorably, Dr. Kim pushed forward, breaching the wet heat of Jeongguk's mouth. The stretch was immediate, a satisfying burn as the thick head pressed past his lips, resting heavy on his tongue. His jaw ached with the strain, but it was a pain he welcomed, a tangible sign of being used, of being filled.
He was huge, and Jeongguk was already salivating, drool slicking the corners of his mouth as he prepared to take even more. Dr. Kim paused, allowing Jeongguk a moment to adjust, to feel the sheer size and presence of him in his mouth.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low, approving rumble that vibrated through Jeongguk's entire body. "Taking me so well. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to have my cock in your pretty, needy mouth." The praise set his soul alight. Jeongguk whimpered around the thick intrusion, the sound muffled and obscene. He flattened his tongue against the sensitive underside of Dr. Kim's cock, eager to please, to earn more of those devastating words.
That was all the encouragement Dr. Kim needed. With a firm grip on Jeongguk's hair, he began to move, a slow, shallow rocking of his hips that pushed his cock deeper with each pass. He fed Jeongguk inch by glorious inch, the thick shaft sliding over his tongue, the head bumping against the back of his throat. Jeongguk's eyes watered, but he didn't fight it; he surrendered to it completely, relaxing his throat, breathing through his nose as Dr. Kim began to establish a rhythm. The world outside the chair, the office, everything, ceased to exist. There was only the dominant man towering over him, the punishing grip in his hair, and the delicious, overwhelming reality of being fucked in the mouth in the very chair he'd dreaded all day.
How ironic.
“Mmm, that’s it,” Dr. Kim groaned, the sound raw and unfiltered. "Such a perfect little mouth. So hot and wet for me. You look so beautiful like this, Jeongguk. All worked up and drooling on my cock." He punctuated his words with a deeper thrust, holding himself there for a second when Jeongguk gagged, the constricting muscles of his throat massaging the head of Dr. Kim’s dick. The lack of air, the tears now freely streaming down his cheeks, the absolute, overwhelming submission—it was the most intensely erotic experience of Jeongguk's life.
His own cock was a forgotten, painful pressure in his jeans, but he didn't dare touch it. This wasn't about him. This was about being good for Dr. Kim, about being the perfect, pliant instrument for his pleasure.
He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard as Dr. Kim pulled back, then opened wide again as he pushed forward, chasing the taste of him. The sloppy, wet sounds of the blowjob filled the sterile room, a lewd counterpoint to the faint buzz of the dental light still bearing down on them. Dr. Kim’s hips began to snap faster, his control visibly fraying. The grip in Jeongguk's hair was painful now, a grounding point in the sea of sensation. He could feel Dr. Kim’s thighs trembling, a tell-tale sign that he was close. The thought of Dr. Kim coming, of tasting him, of being completely claimed by him, was enough to make Jeongguk’s own orgasm coil tight in his gut, a desperate, needy thing.
He moaned again, a long, drawn-out sound of pure want, and looked up through tear-blurred eyes to meet Dr. Kim's gaze. The intensity he found there was staggering—dark, possessive, and utterly focused on him. Dr. Kim looked like a god, and Jeongguk was his willing worshipper, ready to receive his communion.
“F-fuck, Ggukie,” Dr. Kim gritted out, his rhythm faltering. He was close, so fucking close. Jeongguk could feel it in the way his cock pulsed on his tongue, in the way his breathing hitched. He braced himself, ready to take everything he was given.
But then, Dr. Kim pulled out abruptly, leaving Jeongguk’s mouth empty and aching. A string of saliva connected Jeongguk’s swollen, pinked lips to the glistening head of Dr. Kim’s cock before it broke. Jeongguk whimpered at the loss, a confused, needy sound. He looked up, dazed and desperate, searching for an explanation. Dr. Kim was panting, his chest heaving under the now-disheveled white coat, his magnificent cock flushed and throbbing, poised inches from Jeongguk's face.
“Not like this,” Dr. Kim breathed out, his voice hoarse. He leaned down, bracing a gloved hand on the armrest of the chair, bringing their faces close. The scent of sex and antiseptic was dizzying. “I want to see you. All of you.” He used the hand still in Jeongguk's hair to pull him into a sloppy, demanding kiss, tasting himself on Jeongguk's tongue. It was a messy, bruising kiss, all teeth and desperate need. When he pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together. “I want to be inside you when I come. Can you do that for me, Jeongguk? Can you take my cock in that tight little ass of yours?”
Jeongguk could only nod, a jerky, frantic motion. Words were beyond him, lost in the overwhelming tide of arousal. Dr. Kim chuckled, a dark, triumphant sound. He straightened up, and with a decisive tug, he pulled Jeongguk from the chair. Jeongguk stumbled, his legs weak, and found himself pressed against Dr. Kim’s solid form, their bodies aligning in a way that made them both groan. Dr. Kim’s hands were everywhere, sliding down Jeongguk’s back to cup his ass, pulling him closer, grinding their clothed and unclothed erections together. The friction was electric, a delicious torment that made Jeongguk’s hips buck.
He was a mess, a whimpering, needy mess, and he loved it.
Dr. Kim spun him around, pressing him face-first against the cool, smooth surface of the dental counter. Jeongguk’s hands splayed out, knocking over a stack of sterile dental bibs that scattered to the floor like fallen confetti. He felt Dr. Kim’s hands at the waistband of his jeans, the button popping, the zipper being pulled down. The jeans were shoved down to his knees in one rough motion, followed by his boxers. The cool air of the office hit his overheated skin, making him shiver. He was exposed, vulnerable, and so hard it hurt.
“Please, Dr. Kim, I— m’so hard,” Jeongguk whined, arching his back, presenting himself shamelessly. He heard Dr. Kim spit into his gloved hand, the wet, slick sound followed by the feeling of a cool, lubed finger circling his entrance. The pressure was light, a teasing promise. “Please, hyung…” He didn't know where the honorific came from, but it felt right. It felt earned.
“Such a polite boy,” Dr. Kim purred, pressing the finger inside him slowly, a deliberate, unrelenting invasion. Jeongguk’s breath hitched at the stretch, a slight burn that quickly melted into a deep, throbbing pleasure. He pushed back, silently begging for more. Dr. Kim obliged, adding a second finger, scissoring them, stretching him open. The gloves, once a symbol of clinical detachment, were now instruments of pure debauchery, the smooth nitrile gliding against his sensitive inner walls. Dr. Kim’s other hand came around to grip Jeongguk's leaking cock, the touch a shock after being ignored for so long. Jeongguk cried out, a raw, broken sound, as Dr. Kim began to stroke him in time with the thrust of his fingers.
“Tell me what you want, Ggukie,” Dr. Kim commanded, his fingers curling inside him, finding that spot that made him see stars. “Beg for it. Tell me how much you want my cock.” His thumb swiped over the head of Jeongguk’s dick, smearing the pre-come, and Jeongguk’s entire body trembled.
“Please, please, hyung, I want it,” Jeongguk sobbed, the words tearing from his throat. “I want your cock so bad. Want you to fuck me, right here, please. Need you to fill me up, I’ve been so good, please…” He was babbling, a stream of incoherent pleas, but it didn't matter. He knew what Dr. Kim wanted to hear, and he would give him anything.
Dr. Kim’s fingers withdrew, leaving him feeling achingly empty, but only for a moment. Then he felt the thick, blunt head of Dr. Kim’s cock pressing against his entrance, and he held his breath, bracing himself. The slow, relentless push inside was exquisite agony. He was being split open, filled to the brim, and the feeling was more than he could have ever imagined. He bit down on his lip, the coppery tang of blood mixing with the lingering taste of mint. He was completely, utterly overwhelmed, and he had never felt more alive in his life.
“Seokjin—“
Dr. Kim’s large hand moved quickly to splay over the expanse of Jeongguk’s throat, squeezing the sides just enough to be a promise, a warning. “No. You’re going to keep calling me ‘Dr. Kim’ like a good boy. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Jeongguk choked out, the words a strained whisper against the pressure on his windpipe. The addition of this new game made his head spin, an electrifying rush of submission that sent another wave of heat straight to his neglected cock. He felt Seokjin’s—Dr. Kim’s—chuckle against his back, a deep, satisfied rumble.
He withdrew, leaving Jeongguk gasping at the sudden loss, before driving back in with a hard, punishing thrust that slammed him against the counter. The force of it knocked the air from his lungs, a pained groan escaping his lips. Dr. Kim set a brutal pace, a relentless rhythm of deep, powerful strokes that hit Jeongguk’s prostate with unerring accuracy. Each thrust was a claim, a mark of possession, and Jeongguk was lost in the sensation, his mind going blank with pleasure. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, Jeongguk’s desperate whimpers, and Dr. Kim’s low, guttural groans filled the office, a symphony that was more potent than any music.
He was being fucked. Not gently, not tenderly, but with a raw, primal ferocity that left him breathless and begging for more. Dr. Kim’s hands held him in place, one on his hip, the other still wrapped around his throat—not choking, just there, posessively—and the dual sensations were an overwhelming assault on his senses. He was a vessel for Dr. Kim’s pleasure, a willing, pliant thing to be used and taken, and the thought sent him spiraling toward the edge with terrifying speed.
“Gonna come, Dr. Kim, I— fuck, I’m gonna come,” Jeongguk warned, his voice a broken, desperate sob. The friction of the counter against his cock, combined with the relentless pounding of Dr. Kim’s dick inside him, was too much. He was teetering on the brink, ready to plunge into the abyss. Dr. Kim’s grip on his throat tightened, cutting off his air supply for a second, a terrifying and utterly exhilarating rush.
“Not yet,” Dr. Kim commanded, his voice a harsh, authoritative growl. He slowed his thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in with agonizing slowness. “You come when I tell you to. Be a good boy and hold it for me.”
The control was absolute, a masterful display of dominance that made Jeongguk’s entire body tremble with the effort of obeying. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the burning need in his gut, trying to hold back the tidal wave of his orgasm.
Dr. Kim reached around and wrapped a gloved hand around Jeongguk’s aching cock, squeezing hard at the base. The sudden pressure was a shock, a painful counterpoint to the pleasure, but it was enough to push back the orgasm, to keep him dangling on the precipice. Jeongguk whined, a high, desperate sound, a mix of pain and frustration.
“Please, Dr. Kim, I can’t— I can’t hold it,” he sobbed, tears of overstimulation streaming down his face. Dr. Kim chuckled, a dark, amused sound, and began to stroke him in earnest, his fist moving in a tight, twisting motion that was both a torment and a salvation. The slow, deliberate thrusts resumed, each one a calculated, teasing brush against his prostate.
“You can, and you will,” Dr. Kim said, his voice a low, menacing purr. “You’ll take everything I give you, and you’ll thank me for it.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Jeongguk’s ear. “Now, beg. Beg me to let you come.”
The words were the final straw, the last thread of control snapping. Jeongguk broke, a torrent of desperate, incoherent pleas spilling from his lips. “Please, Dr. Kim, please let me come, I need it so bad, I’ve been so good, please, please, please…” He was babbling, a mess of want and need, and he didn't care. All that mattered was the man behind him, the cock inside him, and the desperate, all-consuming need for release.
He could feel Dr. Kim’s rhythm beginning to falter, his thrusts becoming shallower, more erratic. He was close. The thought was a beacon of hope in the sea of overwhelming sensation. Just a little longer, he told himself. Just a little longer, and he would be allowed to fall. Dr. Kim’s hand on his throat tightened again, a possessive, final claim.
Then, Dr. Kim’s hips slammed into him one last, brutal time, and he came with a deep, guttural groan, flooding Jeongguk’s insides with a hot, wet rush. The feeling of being filled, of being completely and utterly claimed, was the final push Jeongguk needed.
“Now, Jeongguk. Come for me now,” Dr. Kim commanded, his voice a rough, breathless whisper.
That was all it took. The world dissolved into a blinding flash of white-hot pleasure as Jeongguk’s orgasm tore through him, a violent, all-consuming wave that left him shaking and spent. He came with a choked cry, painting the pristine white cabinets with stripes of his release. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a mind-shattering overload that left him gasping for breath, his body limp and boneless in Dr. Kim’s arms. For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were their ragged breaths, the frantic beating of their hearts, and the faint, persistent hum of the dental light.
Slowly, carefully, Dr. Kim pulled out, leaving Jeongguk feeling achingly empty and vulnerable. He collapsed against the counter, his legs too weak to hold him, a boneless, trembling mess. He could feel Dr. Kim’s come leaking out of him, a warm, sticky reminder of their encounter, a humiliating and thrilling brand of possession. He felt used, debauched, and utterly, completely satisfied. He had never felt so alive. Dr. Kim leaned over him, his body a warm, solid weight, pressing a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss to the back of his neck. The touch was a startling intimacy, a stark contrast to the brutal fucking they had just engaged in.
“You did so well, Jeongguk-ah,” Dr. Kim murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated through Jeongguk’s spent body. “So perfect for me.” He pulled back, and Jeongguk heard the soft snap of the gloves being removed, the sound a final, clinical punctuation to the scene. A warm, bare hand came to rest on the small of his back, a comforting, grounding touch. “Are you okay?”
The question seemed almost stupid, coming after everything they had just done, but it was also incredibly sweet, a final piece of the puzzle that was Dr. Kim Seokjin—a dominant, commanding, and surprisingly caring man.
Jeongguk managed a weak nod, pushing himself up on trembling arms. He turned around, leaning against the counter for support, and looked at the man who had just given him the most intense sexual experience of his life. Dr. Kim looked a little disheveled, his hair messy and his lips swollen, but he was still undeniably beautiful, a vision in a rumpled white coat. He met Jeongguk’s gaze, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“Good,” he said, his voice still a little rough. He gestured toward the small, private bathroom connected to the office. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up? When you come out, I’ll have a lollipop for you.”
Jeongguk couldn't help but laugh, a breathy, exhausted sound. “Doesn’t that go against, like, everything dentists stand for?”
Dr. Kim’s smile widened, a genuine, eye-crinkling thing that made Jeongguk’s heart do a stupid little flip. “Even I’m not that much of a monster.” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Jeongguk’s ear, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Now go on. We’ve made quite a mess.”
Jeongguk did as he was told, his legs still shaky as he made his way to the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back at him. His lips were swollen and red, his face flushed, and there were faint red marks on his neck from Dr. Kim’s grip. He looked thoroughly, and undeniably, fucked. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to sober up, to come back to reality, but the memories were still so vivid, the lingering ache in his body a constant reminder of what had transpired.
That had been the best sexual experience of his life.
When he emerged, Dr. Kim had cleaned up the mess on the counter and had righted his clothes. He looked every bit the respectable dentist again, save for the satisfied gleam in his eyes. He was holding a lollipop, just as promised, a bright red sphere of sugar on a white stick, and he held it out to Jeongguk like a trophy.
“For being such a good patient,” he said, his tone light and teasing. Jeongguk took it, their fingers brushing, the touch sending a final, lingering jolt of electricity through him. He unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth, the sweet, cherry flavor a stark contrast to the metallic, musky taste of their encounter that still lingered on his tongue.
“I… uh… I should go,” Jeongguk said, suddenly feeling awkward, unsure of the protocol for aftercare in a situation like this.
Dr. Kim nodded, though there was something unreadable in his expression. “Of course.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white business card, holding it out. “In case you have any more… dental emergencies.” The implication was clear, and the promise in his eyes was enough to make Jeongguk’s spent cock give a weak, interested twitch.
Jeongguk took the card, the crisp edges a solid, real thing in a world that felt surreal. “Thank you, Dr. Kim,” he said, the name now a private, intimate joke between them.
“Seokjin,” he corrected, his voice soft. “Seriously. Call me Seokjin. Next time.” The promise of a next time was a warm, settling balm to the sudden, sharp pang of disappointment he felt at the idea of leaving.
With a final, lingering glance, Jeongguk turned and walked out of the office, the taste of cherry and sex in his mouth, and the business card a solid, hopeful weight in his pocket. The world outside was the same as it had been when he’d arrived, but he felt fundamentally changed, a secret smile playing on his lips. He had a feeling he’d be looking forward to his next dental appointment more than he’d ever admit.