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♡ The air smells like stagnant alcohol. The chairs are small and uncomfortable. The people sitting in scatters around him in this waiting lobby look cold, detached. Edward hates appointments like these. He even booked one in the morning to try to avoid the crowd! No avail. He placed two fingers on the side of his throat, trying to feel his pulse woosh. It was a habit that an old therapist had dug into him. Feel the patter of your pulse. You are here. You are alive. And it's going to be alright, Edward. It's going to be alright.

♡ Edward Nashton? He flinches, his head snapping to where the meek voice called his name. And there you are. Dark scrubs. A blue mask pulled down under your chin. His mouth wiggles in an odd, warbly smile.

♡ He's not sure what exactly about you kickstarted his heart. Maybe it was the way the whirring overhead lights made your eyes glimmer. Or maybe it was the kind, soft smile you beamed at him as he stood up and followed you into the pristine white room. It was the uniform, wasn't it? Everybody loves a good pair of scrubs.

♡ The small talk is plain and simple as he lays down in the chair and you adjust the bright light above his mouth. How are you, Edward? Yeah, that humidity out there is brutal. Any plans for this weekend? Me neither.

♡ He's prepared to get this over with and go back home to where he's alone and safe. But something, some small, single ember flicks to life in his gut when you say it. Go ahead and open reeeal wide for me, hon.

♡ He feels his cheeks begin to sizzle. For fuck's sake. He could shrivel up and die from the embarrassment that immediately begins to flow through his veins. He'd been through this process every six months. What the hell made this visit so different? What made you so special?

♡ It sure didn't help that your touch was so gentle. Your words so sweet and encouraging. Your smell so intoxicating. No! Christ, dude, cut it out.

♡ He'd probably end up in tears over the guilt afterwards, but he can't help that his mind is suddenly flooded with thoughts of what he'd do to himself as soon as he got home. He'd try to memorize your bewitching scent and glittering smile as much as he could here and now and leave it for when he was alone again. He thought of the sweet relief he'd feel when he could finally touch himself.

♡ He fell deeper into his thoughts as you put your mask up and scraped at his teeth. He wouldn't want to give it to himself too quick. He'd take his time. He liked the build up. It would start off almost agonizingly slow, just letting the cool air lace itself around his dribbling cock. He wondered what you might be like, if you were there with him. How those gentle hands might feel wrapped around him, squeezing, tugging, teasing. His cheeks burned harsher and hotter as you poked and prodded around. He wondered what those fingers might be like ungloved, in his mouth--

♡ "Just a bit of blood, hon. That's normal. Just gotta floss more often." He tastes the coppery tinge of blood with his tongue as you floss.

♡ He nods and tries not to squirm as he feels the piece of floss dig into his gums. It aches so good. His eyes flutter as you readjust the beaming, bright light. God, it's all so intense.

♡ You wash Edward's mouth with a spray of water. You shut the light off and moved it away from his face, and he sits up. "No cavities!" you announce with a wide grin. "Good job."

♡ Fuck, how good those words sounded as they dripped from your lips.