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"For our more… sensitive patients, we provide a numbing cream," Sung Hyunje suggests, prodding the inside of his mouth with the mirror, his thumb firmly latched onto the side of Han Yoojin's mouth in an effort to keep it open, pressing into the gums. "For you however, I believe that would be unnecessary." He says this merrily, taking no notice of Han Yoojin's discomfort; it's more difficult to breathe than usual with the man treating the inside of his mouth like his personal plaything, using his mouth mirror to prod deeper as he hums.
He must look confused, because Sung Hyunje finally takes mercy on him, setting the mouth mirror onto the tray. "Any questions, Han Yoojin-gun?"
Even with his mouth finally free, he can still taste a hint of latex — his gaze drops to the man's gloved thumb, now slick with Han Yoojin's saliva. He misses his usual dentist more than ever now; he's never felt so uncomfortable having the crevices of his mouth be poked and prodded, especially with how carefully the man examines every part of it, as if burning it to memory.
"What's unnecessary?"
Sung Hyunje pulls the mask down now to reveal his lips curved slightly upward, as if he's finally letting Han Yoojin in on a joke. "Usually we offer numbing cream to alleviate a patient's gag reflex. But I see here that you have no need for it." When he says this he taps onto Han Yoojin's throat, tracing upwards until he finally reaches his lips; unconsciously, Han Yoojin opens his mouth at the touch, his jaw muscles aching as he does so. "How pliant," he praises. "Perhaps it's because I'm used to more disagreeable patients."
He clamps his mouth shut just as fast, his face burning from the implication. If only he could look away, so as to not let the man continue to watch him as intensely as before, to see how fast the shame manifests onto his face. But he's rooted to the spot, his head resting uncomfortably close to the man's lap, looking dumbly up at him. A position that offers convenience to the dentist, allowing him to see everything with unrestricted access — and the tools to explore what he wouldn't be able to otherwise.
"It could be that the dentist is just as disagreeable," he offers. "And didn't try hard enough to make his patients comfortable."
"Forgive me for my shortcomings. No judgement from me of course. As long as you’re practicing safe and consensual sex, I have no problem," Sung Hyunje says reassuringly. “Although I have to admit, I’ve never seen a patient’s throat so… bruised?”
Han Yoojin’s face burns. How was he supposed to know that his dentist got a front row view of his personal life? And it must be a particularly rough case with how Sung Hyunje’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ at the sight. That he can believe — his thoughts trail away to the night before, how he was panting for what felt like hours, his own throat feeling torn and sensitivity for hours later.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies. “Is it normal for dentists to take such an interest in their patients’ private lives?”
“Normally, no. I have to admit, I am curious—”
“I’ll make sure to call you next time,” he finally snaps. “So you can record it for your own ‘professional interest.’”
“You’re quite the philanthropist. Your partner must be very happy.”
Not a partner — but he doesn’t correct him. “You must be very curious about my private life.”
And in what surely is an attempt to placate him, he pets his hair not unlike how one would for a cat — smoothening out the loose strands before running his fingers through his hair. "Ah yes, I often get carried away — it's an occupational hazard. Forgive me. Please direct my apologies to your very lucky partner as well.”
"That's not very comforting to hear," he gripes. Nothing inspires more fear than a dentist treating his mouth like their personal plaything; and he's never felt comfortable at the dentist, even when it was an old man with simple features and comments about his piercing that he’d nod dumbly to — so now, he stiffens with discomfort, keeping his gaze trained on the curve of the overhead lamp, the fluorescence lighting burning in his peripheral vision. "Are there any other dentists on duty right now?"
"This is my clinic, so I'd be surprised if there were… How odd, I've never received any complaints on my patient care before. Usually everybody comes out of my appointments very satisfied," Sung Hyunje explains matter-of-factly, as if this reflected well on his character and not the looks he's been blessed with. Many patients probably made do without the lidocaine, already blissfully drunk on the man's good looks, drinking themselves to a stupor with a sight.
Even with the unflattering angle, he's the most beautiful man Han Yoojin has ever seen. He’s never seen a lab coat look so flattering on somebody before — or fitted so well, in what must be a case of vanity that suits the man — with the sleeves rolled upwards, revealing bare skin not covered by the gloves. There’s a smattering of light hair there too, golden under the light.
He’d be surprised if any patients noticed if Sung Hyunje cut their head off — a good portion of the appointment must be spent gawking at him, taking no heed of how violently he explores their insides.
“Maybe you never noticed. Easy mistake to make for a man your age.”
He should’ve never changed dentists. One of his coworkers recommended this clinic to him saying it was covered by their insurance — and one too many winks about how attractive the dentist was — and that the whole appointment went by in a blink of an eye. Now he sees why she thought that; a simple teeth cleaning session isn’t long enough to drink up the sight of this man, especially after hours of working in their office where all they have to look at for a brief respite is the blonde barista at the first floor.
Dentistry must be a field overcome with talkative social pariahs, desperate to find a listening ear wherever they could find one — his former dentist talked about everything. About smokers (Han Yoojin), younger men who started to get piercings nowadays (Han Yoojin), men that stayed single instead of looking for a wife (Han Yoojin), and — if he were feeling particularly kind — the state of the workforce nowadays.
“The youth of today are as humbling as ever,” Sung Hyunje says mournfully. “Well, please do try to stomach the discomfort for now. Surely you must be good at that.”
Is that another innuendo? This fucker — he looks up at him aghast.
“I’m referring to the piercing of course.” He taps at it with the mouth mirror playfully. “Try to not look too shocked.”
“It’s easy to make that misunderstanding when my dentist’s so unprofessional.”
“Forgive me, Han Yoojin-gun. I just wanted to clarify as to why you wouldn’t need any numbing cream. Unless you’d rather…?”
“I’d rather get ten more piercings than sit through this appointment.”
“What a fun way to assess your level of pain. I’ll have to use that from now on.”
Han Yoojin smiles up at him thinly. He usually keeps a flat clear ring there instead when working so nobody actually notices it, which isn’t enough to hide it from any dentist. But instead of looking ready to launch into one of those rants he’s familiar with, Sung Hyunje just observes the piercing, his fingers gripping onto the tip of Han Yoojin’s tongue in order to see it better. If it were any other dentist he wouldn’t think anything of it, but his insides settle uncomfortably at the sensation of the man’s fingers, one he’d like to blame the bitter taste of latex on.
“What a shame. No color for today?”
“Only for special occasions.” Perhaps he was unknowingly spared all this time; the man’s interest in his mouth looks beyond professional, too excited for Han Yoojin to chalk it up to a love for his job. “If I had known my dentist today would’ve been over-familiar with me, I wouldn’t have kept the piercing on at all.”
“How cruel, Han Yoojin-gun, to deprive a poor employee of one of the few pleasures he has left.”
“Pleasures?” He repeats, dumbfounded. And he even looks serious when he says that, as if he truly mourns not being able to see a proper piercing on Han Yoojin — the man’s looks must offer him so much leeway, enough for him to cross every line in his workplace. “What happened to doing your job? Isn’t that the most fulfilling thing an employee like you can ask for?”
“I’ve always felt like mixing business and pleasure made for a more fulfilling work life. Surely you understand.” Sung Hyunje taps his throat now, his finger going up and back down, pressing it down enough for it to compress Han Yoojin’s Adam’s apple when he swallows. “Now I’m referring to the gag reflex.”
He’s reminded of the night before, how Song Taewon held his throat far more gently — even when Han Yoojin pushed and prodded, desperate for his self control to slip. Sung Hyunje needs no encouragement, instead watching his every reaction as he continues shamelessly.
“Obviously,” he says. “Do you sexually harass all of your patients like this?”
“Most of my patients don’t have a mouth as interesting as yours. Consider yourself the exception.”
He doesn’t deny the accusation. Han Yoojin’s mouth feels drier than ever, and the appointment hasn’t even properly started; he longs for the dental hygienist to return, so the rest of this can continue in silence. Maybe it’s because his mouth has been open for so long — he’s too conscious of how heavy the man’s gaze weighs on him to even lick his lips — but it feels horribly dry. And his jaw muscles, already sore, ache worse than ever.
Hindsight really is twenty-twenty. At least they didn’t go far; at the rate the man’s staring at him, he’d develop X-ray vision and be privy to every inch of Han Yoojin’s skin under his clothes.
“Don’t exceptions usually get privileges? I’m not feeling very privileged right now,” he bemoans, rubbing at his jaw.
“Oh dear, I’ve been too negligent. Open wide,” Sung Hyunje instructs with a far more professional tone than before, swiveling his stool to Han Yoojin’s side before taking out some petroleum jelly that he gently applies onto Han Yoojin’s lips, wiping off the excess. “What privileges would you like?”
That’s a good question. He would like for this appointment to be over — and at the same time, his gaze turns downwards to the groin of Sung Hyunje’s pants, he’d like something else. While he’s glad to no longer have to crane up his head to see him, this view is too distracting.
It’s the man’s fault for being so shameless after all. If you tease somebody with enough crumbs, surely they’d go knocking on your door asking for the rest. But on the other hand—
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you know what’s best for your patient?” And do your fucking job? He fantasizes briefly about his one star review, how he’ll drag this man through the dirt with skills he’s honed after years of frequenting neighbourhood mother group chats.
“I see I’ve been too distracted. I’m more negligent than usual today. Let us get started on your appointment so you can return home to that beau of yours quicker.”
Again, he doesn’t think to correct him. “You’ve already taken too long,” he complains. “But I’ll save the rest for Naver later.”
“What harsh criticism. The rest of us couldn't possibly be as apt at pleasing people as you.”
“You keep on going back to that.” He gestures to Sung Hyunje’s pants, flicking at the outline of his crotch; the man winces, which makes him smile up at him. “If you want somebody to suck you off so badly, shouldn’t you ask politely instead?”
“If that’s what my patient wants.”
“I want my teeth cleaned. There just happens to be an annoying dentist that won’t do his job no matter how much I ask.” Again he’s lying, but it’s worth it just to watch the man squirm on the stool, his previously pristine smile now spread thinner than before. “Could you,” he starts slowly, “do it this time without picturing me sucking somebody else off?”
Yes, it’s definitely worth it just to watch the impatience manifest on his face. He’s never had anybody stare at his face so intently; he can easily imagine the man picturing him take somebody else’s dick into his mouth, how deep it’d go before it’d bruise his throat, scraping the roof of his palate.
“Of course. I’ll picture that lovely piercing of yours instead.” Sung Hyunje takes out his tools again, urging his mouth open with his finger once more as he hooks it to the inner corner of Han Yoojin’s lips. He gets to work swiftly, even preparing the irrigator before he starts cleaning. “But I’ve always wondered: does it make it more sensitive? Oh — no need to reply. I’m just thinking out loud to myself here.”
He wouldn’t answer anyway, even if he could. It does, and it helps that Han Yoojin’s always been sensitive, more attuned to other people’s touches than he should be, feeling everything far more than he should.
But Sung Hyunje looks curious and he’s feeling petty, so he nods. Wouldn’t be too difficult imagining himself doing for the man; the weird fucker probably gets off on making all sorts of medical innuendos whenever somebody’s giving him head, thinking about how the evidence will manifest in their oral cavity later.
An uncomfortable thought. For the first time he’s glad the man is so focused on his mouth instead of anywhere else, although how much his fingers play inside it don’t help at all. Never before has a dentist appointment ever felt so stimulating, especially with the man outlining the shape of the piercing any chance he gets.
What a shameless fucker. Maybe he’s actually doing his job, but Han Yoojin finds that hard to believe; Sung Hyunje still ogles his mouth with that odd expression of his, as if he hasn’t decided between a smile or a frown.
He accidentally sprays too much of the irrigator inside of his mouth that a few droplets end up dripping onto his chin — surely it’s intentional, judging by the glint in Sung Hyunje’s eyes — and Han Yoojin scowls at him. It’s not as uncomfortable as it is embarrassing when he wipes it off gingerly before going back to work.
“Sorry, sorry.” He pats his cheek cutely, the finger still lodged inside of his mouth. “I’m really not this negligent usually.”
In a moment of horrible hindsight, Han Yoojin closes his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his finger as he sucks on it, watching him carefully all the while. At first he thought he’d only do this briefly, just to mess with the man — but as he watches the want manifest on his face, he continues, newly incentivized.
The glove tastes just as disgusting as before, a slight powdery taste that he knows he won’t be able to wash out of his mouth earlier. It’s worth it though: Sung Hyunje inhales sharply, sliding another finger into his mouth to allow Han Yoojin suck on both of them.
“Just like that,” he encourages sweetly. “Now I wouldn’t need to picture anybody else.”
He looks far too happy, even scissoring his fingers inside his mouth for Han Yoojin’s tongue to slide in between, letting out low, ragged breaths as he watches him. It’s far too reminiscent of the night before, yet not enough. What he really wants is something that would fill up his mouth entirely, enough to make him struggle to breathe, the head of it pressed deep enough into his oral cavity for it to bob against the back of his throat.
So Han Yoojin bites on his fingers before letting out a disgusted tch. “Your gloves taste disgusting.”
“An unfortunate byproduct of the occupation. Would you rather I take them off instead?”
No… he quite likes how they look now, dripping in his saliva enough for them to look translucent. And isn’t he still missing the point? “That’s not what I want,” he finally says. “Use your brain, seonsaeng-nim.”
It’s not like he’ll spell it out for him. Instead he keeps his mouth slightly open so his piercing still shows, wishing that he wore the red stud instead — it always catches in the light, enough to get anybody’s attention — but he’ll make do with this: Sung Hyunje looking just as affected anyway, his face cracking into a beautiful smile.
“I’m not usually so neglectful,” he laments, cupping Han Yoojn’s face with his other hand as he gives him a look over. “Perhaps something else to put in your mouth then?”
He shivers, nodding. The room is more exposed than he would like, with the lighting being too bright for him to even lie down comfortably — but all of that is forgotten as he watches Sung Hyunje unzip his pants. Even though the bulge left little to the imagination, he’s still surprised at the sight itself, Sung Hyunje taking his dick out, already erect enough to be a flushed red, his desire as plain as day.
“What shamelessness.” His voice betrays him as he says it, catching in his throat. “You should say please first.”
“Is that how it went last night? ‘Please, Yoojin-ah, let me fuck your mouth until it bruises.’” Sung Hyunje tilts his head as he says this, exposing more of his reddened neck to him. “He must’ve known that you wouldn’t gag on it, with how roughly he rammed it in there.”
“He was pretty gentle about it,” he admits, not wanting to get into detail of how much he kept on urging him to be rougher, to not pay heed to how strangled Han Yoojin’s breathing got. “Quite the gentleman — unlike you, who’s been begging me to suck you off since I came in.”
“It’s not every day that I come across my type. I must’ve been a bit overexcited.”
“Your type,” he echoes. Sure, he’s been told he’s good looking before — by a friend, a coworker, an older passerby who graciously accepted the seat he offered them — but never so openly by somebody so attractive. For a moment he’s deeply flattered, until he remembers why the man took so quickly to him in the first place.
“It’s a bit embarrassing to admit. All I could think of was how much it’d take for me to fuck your mouth until you would cry.”
“So I’m not your type, you just really like my mouth,” he rationalizes, suddenly irritated. “Is it a prerequisite to have strange fetishes as a dentist?”
“I wouldn’t call it a strange fetish. Wouldn’t anybody be into somebody cute with such a dirty mouth?” he confesses, his thumb urging the very same mouth open. “Ah… Han Yoojin-gun, if you ever make another appointment here I must insist on you wearing that piercing.”
“Then you wouldn’t even bother doing your job.”
“That’s true. How about you come without and I can put it on you myself afterwards?” he suggests.
He’s embarrassed by how much he likes that suggestion; Sung Hyunje would do it as slowly as possible, just to watch him squirm — he’d hold tightly onto the tip of his tongue then, so as to put on the piercing as easily as possible. But really, isn’t he too much? Never before has he spoken to somebody so unabashedly thirsty, practically begging him to indulge their whims.
It’s a disquieting thought; desire settles uncomfortably in his gut, one he wishes he didn’t take to like a fish in water.
“Six months from now?”
“Waiting is part of the fun.” His hand is still on his own dick, stroking it as he watches him. It’s the same hand that Han Yoojin sucked, his own saliva now lubricating the glove as it goes up and down, tortuously slow. “As long as it doesn’t go on for too long.”
“That’s…” he finds it hard to think, watching him. All he can think about is taking it whole. “That’s true. So why are you making me wait? If you’re too neglectful, I’ll go find another dentist.”
“That wouldn’t do.”
“At all,” he agrees petulantly. And if he sounds bratty while saying it, what’s the damage? “Help your patient out, seonsaeng-nim,” he insists, getting off the dental chair as he kneels onto the floor.
This way he’s eye level with the man’s crotch. The floor tiles are cool even through his jeans, which he’s glad for — a brief respite from the heat in his groin. And he cares even less about how uncomfortable the setup is now, with Sung Hyunje looking down on him, his hand still stroking his dick.
From up close, the size is more impressive, thick enough for him to marvel at. Before he can do anything, Sung Hyunje tilts his head up so the tip of his cock brushes against Han Yoojin’s lips; the taste of latex mixes with precum, but he’s more receptive to the latter, eager to take up as much as he can.
“Open wide, Han Yoojin-gun,” he says in a tone disturbingly similar to earlier. And when he complies, opening it wide enough for Sung Hyunje’s dick, he brings his head closer, his hand firmly on the back of Han Yoojin’s neck. “As pliant as ever,” he praises, caressing the back of his head as he urges him closer. A sweet tone accompanied by a soft touch, despite how he leers down on him, and Han Yoojin can’t help it, he’s weak to any praise — he preens.
His piercing is a brief respite from how hot the inside of his mouth feels, the cool metal a brief interruption from the heat every time his tongue licks the underside of his dick. Sung Hyunje hisses when he does so, clutching tighter onto the hair at the back of his neck to bring him closer, sending a jolt of pleasure down to his own dick.
He almost chokes on the sudden pressure, the inside of his mouth overcome with fullness. It feels like the inside of his mouth is stretched out, with no space to even breathe — Sung Hyunje’s dick fills him to the brim now, scraping against the back of his throat in a way that makes him almost come on the spot.
Even breathing through his nose is difficult when every time he breathes, he inhales his scent. Han Yoojin remembers vaguely some silly study his friends told him about, one debating the existence of pheromones and whether sweat was a good marker for it.
Whether it was true or not, he has no other way to explain why he’s desperate to take up as much of the man’s scent as he can, drinking it up to the point of headiness. He can smell his precum too, which mingles with the lingering scent of disinfectant, which he eagerly swallows.
Sung Hyunje urges him to go deeper now, rocking his head back and forth as if he were truly fucking him, his hand moving in sync with his breathing, now ragged and loud enough to echo in Han Yoojin’s ears. Or that could be his own — he’s glad to be sitting, or else he would’ve fallen to the ground anyway from how weak he feels, desperate to just keep up with the man as he opens his mouth wide enough for his jaw to ache once again.
But he hardly takes note of the ache, especially with how deeply the man’s dick goes in his throat, his previous gentleness now forgotten in place of how roughly he handles him. There’s no rhythm to it now, just him thrusting Han Yoojin closer and further again, the sound of his sucking echoing obscenely in his ears.
His hand is on his face now, wiping his eyes — he didn’t even notice how watery they were, tinged with tears that Sung Hyunje wipes off in a brief moment of sweetness. He’s always pushed himself past his limit without recognizing it until later, not realizing his blurred vision until now — or how much he strains to breathe, but desperate to gulp up as much as he can just the same.
Han Yoojin looks up at him, just in time to see him licking the tears, his eyes now heavily lidded with want. That must’ve done it for the man — he comes almost immediately into his mouth, which surprises him so much he sharply recoils, the taste of the residue still lingering. Some drip onto his jeans, but he licks up the rest as Sung Hyunje’s hand caresses his scalp more gently than before, finally swallowing it all.
“Should I schedule another appointment for six months now?”
“Try to have some shame,” he tells him, his voice coming out raspier than expected. He clears his throat, rubbing on it gingerly; he can still feel the man inside of him, as if the inside of his mouth has morphed around the shape of his dick — from the way it slightly curved to the veins protruding. “I could never return to a dentist who neglects his patients so much.”
“Ah yes, my dear patient who’s easily scorned — and just as easily pleased,” Sung Hyunje comments lightly, hoisting him onto the chair once more, tapping onto Han Yoojin’s jeans.
His cheeks burn. His underpants feel strangely sticky — and he didn’t even notice, too caught up in the blowjob that he didn’t realize he came into his pants. How embarrassing, to get edged all the way to coming without so much as being touched.
“Come back soon and I’ll make sure to tend to your every need,” he promises.
It’s not every day somebody so beautiful promises to do that. And he’s long since relented, his willpower as weak as a brittle leaf in the wind. But he’s such an unlikeable bastard, even when he smiles at him so prettily and his hand still caresses his face, so he pretends to mull it over. “I’ll think about it. I have a one star review to write first, you know.”