Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Channie-hyung, you're not fooling anyone," Changbin said, his eyes narrowing with concern as he studied Bang Chan's pained expression.

"It's nothing," Chan mumbled, gently prodding his swollen gum with his tongue. The pain shot through his cheek like a bolt of lightning, making him wince.

Jisung, who was setting up the soundboard, turned around with a knowing smile. "If it's nothing, then why are you popping pills like they’re candy?"

Chan rolled his eyes. "It's just a little sensitive, that's all."

"Come on, spill it," Hyunjin said, with a sketchbook on his lap and cuddling next to Chanbin on the sofa, taking advantage of his day off in the art gallery he worked at. His sharp gaze fell on Chan's reddened cheek. "You're not going to sit there and pretend it's not a big deal when you can't even record without wincing." 

Chan sighed, giving in to their collective concern. "It's just a toothache. I'll deal with it after work."

Felix, who had just walked in with a steaming cup of coffee having finished his daily ASMR session next door, raised an eyebrow. "You know, there's this great dentist I've been meaning to recommend."

Chan's stomach twisted at the mere mention of the word. Dentists had always filled him with a mix of dread and anxiety. TThis fear stemmed from a traumatic wisdom tooth extraction he had undergone as a teenager, which left him with a lasting phobia of dental procedures. The sterile smell of the office, the cold metal instruments, the piercing sounds of the drill—it was a phobia he hadn't been able to shake. He had only ever allowed one person to work on his teeth after that: his ex-boyfriend, Lee Minho.

"I've got it handled," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I'll just... take some painkillers and it'll be fine."

But Changbin wasn't fooled. He looked at Chan seriously, his gaze unwavering. "This is about Minho, isn't it?"

Chan's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't talked about Minho in a while, not since their breakup a year ago. They had remained friends, but the pain of their separation was still fresh. "What? No, it's just—"

Jisung narrowed his eyes. "Come on, you can't expect us to believe that. You've been popping painkillers like candy all week. If you're in that much pain, you should see someone."

Chan swallowed hard, his throat tight with the lie. "It's fine," he insisted. "It's just sensitive because I haven't slept well."

Jisung's gaze didn't waver. "If you didn't sleep because of the pain, then it's not just sensitive. You need to get it checked out."

Chan sighed heavily, the weight of his secret pressing down on him. He knew he couldn't hide it much longer. "Okay, okay," he conceded, his voice small. "I'll make an appointment."

A few days later, the pain had become unbearable. The throbbing in his jaw was a constant, unwelcome companion, following him through every rehearsal and meeting. He had been so busy with their latest album that he had pushed the appointment to the back of his mind, telling himself he could handle it. But now, as he sat in the recording booth with Seungmin, one the artists they regularly collaborated with, he realized that was a lie.

"Channie-hyung, you okay?" Seungmin asked, pausing mid-lyric. He had noticed the winces and the clenched fists.

Chan's eyes snapped open, his breaths coming in short gasps. "Yeah, just... just a headache."

Seungmin gave him a doubtful look but nodded, resuming their recording. But the pain didn't subside. It grew, a relentless pulse that echoed through his skull. By the end of the session, his cheek was flushed and beads of sweat lined his forehead.

"Hyung, you can't keep this up," Changbin said, his voice firm. "You need to go to the dentist."

Jisung nodded in agreement, his expression a mix of worry and annoyance. "You're not fooling anyone, and you're holding us up. We can't keep rescheduling because of your toothache."

"I know," Chan murmured, rubbing his jaw. "I just... I don't know if I can go to Minho."

The room fell silent, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Changbin and Jisung exchanged a knowing look. "Why not?"

Chan's eyes searched the floor, unable to meet their gazes. "It's just... it's complicated."

"Can you try going to someone else?" Jisung suggested gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Panic surged through Chan's chest at the thought. "No," he said, his voice shaking. "I don't trust anyone else with my teeth. Minho knows me, he understands."

But the truth was, facing Minho wasn't just about trust. It was about the memories that flooded back every time he saw those gentle hands, the comforting smile that had once been for him alone. It was about the love they had shared, now a bittersweet ache that never truly went away.

"But you can't face Minho-hyung because of the breakup?" Seungmin asked softly, his eyes full of understanding.

Chan's throat tightened. "It's not just that," he managed to say. "It's... it's complicated."

Changbin nodded, his eyes softening. "Okay, we get it," he said. "But you're in pain. Would it help if one of us went with you? Or if we called Minho-hyung for you?"

Chan thought for a moment, his hand absently rubbing his jaw. "No," he said, his voice firm. "I'll go alone." He didn't want to burden them with his fear, and he knew that seeing Minho again would be hard enough without an audience.

He took out his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed out a text to Minho. "Hey, it's been a while. I need to see you... professionally." He hit send, his heart racing as he waited for a response. 

Him and Minho had texted back and forth a few times, just for birthdays and holidays. They hadn't seen each other in a year and Chan had skipped his regular check up 6 months ago because he was afraid of what feelings might come up then if he saw Minho. It was Chan's fault they had broken up after all.

Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. The others had gone back to their tasks, giving him space but their eyes kept flickering over to him, full of silent concern.

Finally, his phone buzzed with a reply from Minho. "I'm here to help, whenever you're ready." It was simple, straightforward, and professional.

Chan took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't seen Minho in person since their breakup, and the thought of sitting in his chair again, with their history hanging in the air, was more nerve-wracking than any on stage performance. But he knew he couldn't ignore his pain anymore.

"I'm free tomorrow," he texted back, his thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before finally letting go. The response was almost instantaneous. "I can fit you in at 9 AM," Minho replied.

The next day, Chan found himself standing outside Minho's dental clinic, his hand shaking as he reached for the door handle. The last time he had been here was for a routine check-up, before their worlds had been turned upside down by their breakup. The memories flooded back like a dam had broken—the easy laughter, the shared jokes, the gentle touches that had turned into something more. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the familiar scent of antiseptic and mint filling his nostrils.

Behind the reception desk, Yang Jeongin looked up from his computer with a warm smile. "Chan!" he exclaimed, standing up to give him a hug. "It's been ages!" Jeongin had been Minho's assistant for years, and had seen their relationship blossom. His familiarity was a comforting blanket in the face of his nerves.

"Hey Jeongin," Chan managed a smile, his eyes darting towards the hallway that led to Minho's office. "I've had a bit of a... situation."

"Are you in pain?" Jeongin asked, his expression switching to one of concern. He knew all too well about Chan's dental phobia and the fact that Minho was the only one who could ease it.

"Yeah," Chan admitted, his voice strained. "I’ve had pain for a few weeks in one of my lower right molars."

"Okay, let's get you prepped," Jeongin said, his tone professional but tinged with kindness. He led Chan through the familiar hallway to the X-ray room, his footsteps echoing on the tiles. The sight of the chair and the X-ray machine brought back a rush of memories—some comforting, others painful. Jeongin noticed his discomfort and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You're in good hands, remember?"

Once seated, Jeongin began the process of placing the X-ray film in Chan's mouth, his touch surprisingly gentle. The cold metal of the X-ray bite-wing sent a shiver down Chan's spine, and he couldn't help but think of the countless times Minho had done this for him, his gentle instructions soothing his nerves. Jeongin positioned the machine, his movements efficient and practiced. "Just stay still," he said, his voice soothing. "This will only take a second."

The flash of light was momentary, but it left an afterimage in Chan's eyes. He swallowed hard as Jeongin removed the film, patting his shoulder. "Alright, let's go take a look," he said, leading the way to the computer where the images would be displayed.

Jeongin's expression grew serious as he pulled up the X-rays on the screen, his eyes scanning the images with a practiced eye. His brow furrowed, and he made a small, concerned noise in the back of his throat. "It looks like you might have an abscess," he said, pointing to a shadowy area on the film.

Chan's stomach clenched. An abscess? That sounded serious. He had been so focused on avoiding the dentist that he hadn't even considered the possibility of something so severe. "What does that mean?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"It's an infection," Jeongin explained, his eyes never leaving the screen. "It can be pretty painful, and if it's not treated, it can spread to other parts of your body. But don't worry, Minho will know what to do."

Chan nodded, his mind racing. A filling he could handle, but a root canal? An extraction? The very thought made his palms sweat. He had always dreaded the dentist, but now the stakes felt so much higher. He was terrified of what Minho might find, and even more so of what seeing him again would do to his already fragile heart.

Jeongin must have noticed his nerves because he gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll let Minho know to take a look. He'll know what's best." With that, he disappeared into the hallway, leaving Chan alone in the sterile, mint-scented room. The chair was plush and cold against his back. He fidgeted with the bib that was already around his neck, trying to get comfortable. His heart hammered in his chest, the sound seemingly amplified by the silence of the room.

There was a soft knock on the door after a few minutes, and then it creaked open. In walked Minho, looking as handsome as ever in his crisp white lab coat. The sight of him was like a punch to the gut, all the memories and feelings rushing back with a force that left Chan momentarily breathless. Minho's eyes lit up in recognition, a warm smile ghosting across his lips before it was replaced by a professional nod. "Chan-ah," he said, his voice as calm and soothing as it had always been. "It's been a while."

Chan's chuckle was forced, his nerves jangling like live wires. "Yeah, I know," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

 "I'm sorry it's under these circumstances." Minho said, his eyes lingering on Chan's for a moment longer than necessary. He took a seat beside the chair, his movements deliberate and measured. Chan felt his presence like a warmth spreading through the room. "So, tell me what's been going on," Minho said, his gaze flicking to the X-rays he pulled up on the screen as he sat on the chair next to Chan.

"I've had some pain in one of my right lower molars. And, I might have... not been brushing and flossing as often as I should," Chan said, his voice tight.

Minho nodded, his gaze not leaving the X-ray. "I see," he said, his voice neutral. "Looks like you've got an infection. You really should have come in sooner."

"I know," Chan mumbled, his eyes downcast. "But... you know how it is with work."

Minho's gaze softened, his expression understanding. "Yeah, I do," he said. "The music industry never stops." 

Chan nodded, avoiding Minho's eyes. He didn't want to admit it but after their relationship had fallen apart he hadn't been able to leave his bed for weeks. It had been a silent, suffocating grief that had kept him in bed. The days had blurred together, each one a battle to face the reality that the warmth of Minho's arms was no longer his to hold. Changbin and Jisung had had to drag him from between the sheets multiple times. Each day had felt like a never-ending battle against the fog of despair that threatened to consume him. He had thrown himself into his work worse than before after that, pushing his body to the brink of exhaustion to avoid the pain that waited for him in the quiet moments.

It wasn't until he'd collapsed at the studio after working for four days straight that Chan understood that he needed help and had finally accepted Hyunjin's recommendation of visiting his therapist. The months that followed were a blur of therapy sessions and painfully honest self-reflection. It was there that he faced the depth of his pain, the guilt he felt for letting his work consume him, and the pain of losing Minho forever because of it. 

Minho had been it for him. Chan didn't like to think about the engagement ring he still kept in a box in his sock drawer. Their relationship had collapsed before he had been able to ask Minho to marry him. He had hoped that the ring would be a symbol of their future together, but now it was a painful reminder of what could have been.

Minho was silent as he clicked around the computer, opening up Chan's chart. "Okay, there's a couple of things we'll need to discuss but I'd like to do your check up first," he finally said. "Please lie back."

Chan nodded, trying to ignore the racing thoughts in his head. As he leaned back into the chair, he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. The chair was cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the warmth of Minho's touch. He watched as Minho put on a pair of gloves, his movements methodical and precise. The click of the gloves snapping into place echoed in the quiet room.

Minho's gaze met his, his eyes filled with a gentle concern. "We can go as slow as you'd like, okay?" he said, his voice low and soothing. "Just let me know if you need a break."

Chan nodded, his throat tight. "Thanks, Minho," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Open wide, please," Minho said, his voice a gentle command.

Chan's heart raced as he complied, the cool air from the open mouthpiece washing over his teeth. He felt the soft touch of Minho's fingers against his jaw, the gloved thumb pressing down gently to keep his mouth open. The scent of mint and antiseptic filled the air as Minho began his examination, his eyes focused and professional despite the intimate proximity.

The explorer—a small, pointed metal instrument—was the first to make contact with his teeth. It slid over the enamel, sending a shiver down his spine. The instrument paused, catching on a few spots, and Chan knew immediately what that meant—cavities. His stomach churned with fear.

Jeongin had walked back into the room at some point, and Minho called out a few numbers so Jeongin could add them to his chart. The process was efficient, almost mechanical. Minho called out softly for Jeongin as he continued to prod at Chan's teeth, "Number 2 occlusal, number 3 occlusal, filling in number 14 needs to be replaced. Number 17 occlusal, number 18 occlusal." Each number was like a little jab to Chan's already frazzled nerves, and Minho hadn't even reached the side the pain was in. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. Jeongin nodded, typing the notes onto the chart.

Finally, Minho reached the lower right side. He paused, his eyes flicking to meet Chan's in. "How are you doing, Chan?" he asked, his voice gentle. "I'm going to check the tooth that you have the pain in now. Can I?"

Chan screwed his eyes shut, squeezing the chair's arm rests so tightly his knuckles turned white. He nodded minutely, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

"Chan-hyung," Minho's voice was soft, coaxing. "It's going to be okay. Just breathe."

Minho grabbed another instrument and bent closer to Chan's mouth. He blew a gentle stream of air on the swollen gum, and Chan couldn't help the flinch that shot through his body. The coldness was a brief respite from the constant throb, and he took a deep, shaky breath. Then, with a tenderness that belied the sharpness of the metal, Minho tapped the infected molar with the explorer. The pain was like a hot poker jabbing through his cheek, and he couldn't hold back the pained grimace.

"Okay, I know that hurts," Minho said, his voice a soothing balm. "But we're almost done. Can you tell me when the pain is at its worst?"

Chan nodded, his eyes squeezed shut. "Whenever I bite down," he said through gritted teeth.

Minho's eyes softened as he listened to Chan's response. "Okay, number 30 occlusal, and number 31 occlusal, it's pretty deep," he said, his voice a gentle murmur as Jeongin marked the spot on the chart. "And number 32."

Chan felt the pressure ease as Minho finished with the explorer, and he let out a sigh of relief. "You can close your mouth now," Minho said, his voice a soothing balm to the anxiety that had been building in the room.

Chan did so gratefully, his jaw feeling like it had been open for hours. He heard Jeongin and Minho murmur among themselves and heard Jeongin excuse himself from the room. Chan wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his heart racing. "It's pretty bad, right?" he asked, his voice shaky.

Minho nodded, his gaze leaving the chart. "It's not ideal, but I've seen worse," he said, his voice soothing. "We'll take care of it."

Chan swallowed, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. He opened his eyes to look at Minho, and the sight of his ex's concerned expression was almost too much to bear. He knew Minho cared for him, had always cared for him, but the professional boundary was clear as glass. He could see the yearning in Minho's eyes, the desire to reach out and comfort him like he used to, to run his thumb over the crease between his eyebrows and whisper that everything would be okay. But Minho remained stoic. "Chan-ah," Minho said gently, his voice pulling him out of his thoughts. "Are you ready for me to explain what I found?"

Chan nodded, his eyes still closed, trying to compose himself. He took a deep breath and sat up, the chair's mechanical whirring breaking the silence.

"Your right lower molar, number 31, the one that's been bothering you, has an abscess that's spread to the pulp," Minho began, his voice calm and professional. "It’s beyond a regular filling now."

Chan’s heart sank, a cold dread settling in his stomach. "What does that mean?"

Minho’s gaze turned to the computer as he navigated to Chan’s X-ray, his finger pointing at the darkened area with the precision of an artist highlighting a flaw in his masterpiece. "It means we need to do a root canal," he said, his voice steady. "We have to clean out the infection and save the tooth before it worsens."

Chan's eyes followed Minho's finger, his breath catching at the thought of what was to come. "How soon do we need to do it?" he asked, the edge of fear creeping into his voice.

Minho met Chan's gaze, his expression serious yet reassuring. "We should start as soon as possible, Chan. The sooner we treat it, the better the outcome."

Chan nodded, trying to steady his nerves. "Okay, let's do it," he said, trusting Minho completely.

Minho's eyes searched his face, looking for any signs of doubt or fear. "If you need to, we can always use nitrous oxide to help you relax," he offered, his voice gentle.

"No, I don't like that," Chan said, his voice firm, not liking the feeling of not being in control. "I just want to get it done."

Minho nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and concern. "Alright," he said. "We'll start with that today. You also have a smaller cavity in the tooth next to it so I'll fill that one as well today."

"How many cavities do I have in total?" Chan asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Including the two today, you have seven," Minho said. "It looks like your sweet tooth hasn't changed in the last year." He teased gently.

Chan couldn't help the small smile at the familiar jab, his eyes briefly meeting Minho's. "Yeah, well," he said, his voice light despite the fear bubbling in his chest. "The only thing that has changed is that I no longer have you to remind me to brush and floss. I should've been more diligent...but the first couple of months were difficult." It was the first time either of them had acknowledged their breakup.

Minho's smile faded, his eyes searched Chan's for a moment before he nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said, his voice tight. Turning back to Chan's chart Minho continued explaining. "You have an older filling on your top left that is starting to fail so we need to replace it. The rest of the cavities are smaller, so we can schedule follow-up appointments to get those fixed. Two of them however," he continued as he pointed to two molars in the chart "are on your lower wisdom teeth, and if possible I'd like to have those extracted instead."

Chan took a sharp breath. "Extracted?" he echoed, his eyes widening. The thought of an extraction was almost as terrifying as the pain that had brought him here.

Minho nodded, his expression sympathetic. "I know you didn't want to have those extractions done in the past," he said gently, "but your wisdom teeth are misaligned. It makes them really difficult to clean properly, and that increases the risk of cavities forming again. Plus, they could potentially cause damage to the teeth next to them if we don't take care of them soon."

Chan's heart sank. He had always dreaded the thought of an extraction. But he knew that Minho was right. "Okay," he murmured, his voice small. "Let's do it. I trust you"

Minho's eyes searched his for a moment, a fleeting expression crossing his face before he schooled his features back into a professional mask. "Thank you," he said, his voice a touch warmer than before. "They're fully erupted, so I can do the procedure myself. No need for a specialist."

Chan nodded, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the mention of Minho taking care of him. "Let's deal with the toothache today," he said, his voice stronger than he felt. "And we can talk about the extractions later."

Minho's smile was gentle as he nodded in understanding. "Alright," he said. "Let's get you set up for the root canal." He reached out to squeeze Chan's shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. He stood up and started preparing the tools he would need, placing them on a tray next to the dental chair.

Chan's eyes flicked to the tray of gleaming instruments. "Just a moment," Minho said, his voice calm and collected as he turned to the tray. He picked up a syringe filled with a clear liquid, the latex-covered needle glinting in the fluorescent lights. "This is just to numb the area," he assured, holding it up for Chan to see. "It'll help with the pain."

Chan took a deep breath, his eyes squeezed shut as Minho approached with the syringe. He felt the coolness of the gel on his skin as Minho applied it to his gum, a brief respite before the sharp pinch of the needle. The first shot was administered, the sensation jolting him. "Okay, one more," Minho murmured, his thumb brushing gently against the spot on Chan's cheek. "This one might sting a bit more since the infection’s pretty deep."

The second injection was indeed more painful, the numbness spreading through his jaw like a slow-moving river of ice. He couldn't help the whimper that escaped his lips, but Minho's gentle "Shh" calmed him. "Almost done," he said, his voice soothing. "Just a little more."

The pain began to recede, replaced by the coldness that signaled the anesthesia was working. Minho waited patiently for the full effect to set in. When he was certain that Chan was sufficiently numb, he set the syringe aside and reached for a rubber dam—a thin sheet used to isolate the teeth he would be working on.

"I'm going to place this rubber dam around your teeth now. It will keep the area dry and clean while I work," Minho explained, showing Chan the small, blue sheet. He carefully placed it around tooth 31 and the adjacent tooth 30, securing it with a metal frame and tiny clamps. The feeling of the dam stretching over his lips and the frame pressing against his gums was odd, but Chan knew it was necessary.

With the dam in place, Minho nodded in satisfaction. "Alright, we're ready to start the procedure," he said gently, picking up the drill. The whirring sound was a stark contrast to the gentle tones of their conversation.

Chan nodded, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, the drilling sound echoing in his ears. He could feel Minho's warm hand on his shoulder, a silent promise that he would guide him through this.

"Okay, I'm going to start with the drilling now," Minho said, his voice as gentle as the touch of the drill to his tooth. "The first one will be the deepest, but it's important that we clean out all the infection from number 31."

Chan nodded in understanding. Minho continued, "I will then do the molar next to it. You should feel no pain, only pressure, but if you need a minute, or if you're in pain, please raise your hand."

With that, Minho leaned in closer, the light from the overhead lamp casting shadows across his face. He was a picture of concentration, his eyes focused solely on the task at hand. The drill's high-pitched whine filled the room as it descended toward the molar in question. Despite the numbness, Chan couldn't help but tense up, his body instinctively preparing for pain. He gripped the chair's armrests tightly, his knuckles turning white. The pressure was there, as Minho had warned, a constant throb that grew louder as Minho continued to clean out the infected area. On the next pass, Chan flinched in pain.

Minho's hand stilled immediately, his eyes darting to meet Chan's. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Chan nodded, trying to keep his breathing even. "It's fine," he lied, his eyes clenched against the pain. "Just keep going."

Minho studied him for a moment before giving a small nod. He knew Chan was tough, but the lines of tension around his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched told him the pain was becoming unbearable.

"Let's take a quick break," Minho suggested, placing the drill aside. He reached over to the chair's control panel and elevated the chair to a sitting position. "You can spit out the excess saliva and rinse your mouth."

Chan nodded gratefully, his eyes watering from the effort of holding back his pain. He leaned over the sink, rinsing his mouth with the cool water, the minty taste doing little to combat the metallic flavor of fear. As he spat out the water, he couldn't help but feel the weight of Minho's gaze on him, a silent question hanging in the air.

He lightly prodded the spot Minho had been drilling with his tongue, unable to hide his wince from the pain. Minho's eyes remained focused on his expression, noticing the tension in Chan's shoulders and the way his fingers gripped the chair's armrests.

"Channie," Minho said gently, his hand moving to cover the one that was clutching the chair so tightly. "Would you like me to give you a bit more anesthesia?"

Chan nodded, his eyes never leaving Minho's. He knew that the pain was a necessary part of the process, but he hadn't anticipated just how much it would hurt. The first two shots had barely taken the edge off, and the idea of more needles was daunting.

Minho's hand was steady as he leaned in with another syringe. "This will just be a little boost," he said, his voice soothing. "It'll help with the pain."

Chan took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes still on Minho's. The needle pierced his gum again, sending a jolt of coldness through his mouth. He winced, his hand tightening around the arm rest for a brief second before releasing. "You're doing great," Minho murmured, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of his hand. "Just one more."

The second injection was even sharper than the first, and a tear rolled down Chan's cheek. He couldn't help the small whimper that escaped his lips as the pain radiated through his jaw. Minho's eyes searched his, his expression filled with empathy and apology. "Almost done," he said, his voice a gentle whisper, and he finally pulled the needle away.

After a few minutes, when the numbness had fully set in, Minho picked up the drill again. This time, the sound was a comfort, a familiar rhythm in the sterile silence of the room. He worked meticulously, his movements efficient and precise, the drill's whine a testament to his focus. Despite the pain, Chan felt a strange sense of relief wash over him, knowing that each pass brought him closer to relief.

Finally, Minho turned off the drill and leaned back, his eyes meeting Chan's in the mirror. "We're done with the drilling," he said, his voice a gentle reprieve. He took a small, angled mirror and peered into the freshly accessed canal of tooth 31. The air from the little blower was cold and sharp against the exposed nerve, making Chan's eyes water, but the pain was a distant echo now.

"It was pretty deep," Minho said, his expression sympathetic as he inspected the tooth. "Now comes the delicate part—cleaning out the root canals."

Minho prepared a set of slender, flexible files of varying sizes. He held one up for Chan to see. "These files will help me remove any remaining infected tissue inside the canals of your tooth," he explained. "You might feel some pressure, but it shouldn't be painful. If it is, let me know immediately."

Chan nodded, his eyes reflecting trust mixed with residual anxiety. Minho began with the largest file, gently inserting it into the first canal. The sensation was odd—a kind of scraping feeling deep within the tooth—but not painful. Minho worked methodically, his movements precise as he filed the canal walls, removing debris and smoothing the passage.

After each filing, Minho irrigated the canal with a cool, antiseptic solution. The liquid flowed into the canal and was suctioned out, taking with it any loosened debris. The process was repeated for each canal, Minho gradually using smaller files to ensure thorough cleaning.

As he worked on the last canal, Minho glanced at Chan, offering a reassuring smile. "You're doing great. Just a bit more."

Chan managed a slight nod, focusing on his breathing to stay relaxed. The repetitive motion of the files and the rhythmic sound of the suction became almost hypnotic, lulling him into a state of calm despite the circumstances.

Once satisfied with the cleaning, Minho used small, absorbent sticks to dry the canals. He inserted them carefully, one by one, ensuring all moisture was removed. "Dry canals are crucial for the sealing process," he murmured, more to himself than to Chan.

With the canals clean and dry, Minho prepared the rubber-like material used to fill and seal the canals. He warmed the material slightly, making it pliable as Chan watched, and then meticulously inserted it into each canal, using a small instrument to compact it snugly. 

"All done with the root canal," Minho announced softly, his eyes meeting Chan's with a hint of triumph. "Now, let's move on to tooth 30."

He adjusted his tools and began addressing the cavity in tooth 30. Compared to the extensive work on tooth 31, this was a simpler procedure. Minho deftly cleaned out the decayed area with a smaller drill, the process quick and efficient. 

As Minho finished drilling out the decay in tooth 30 and completing the root canal on tooth 31, he paused for a moment, his eyes flicking toward Chan’s. The rubber dam was still in place, isolating the teeth Minho had been working on. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the overhead light, and the tension between them had softened into something more contemplative.

Minho glanced at the small mirror on the tray and then back at Chan, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, Chan-ah," he said softly, "would you like to see what we’ve done so far? I haven’t filled the teeth yet, so you can see the work in progress."

Chan’s eyes widened in surprise. "You mean the areas you drilled?"

Minho nodded, picking up the mirror and angling it carefully. "Yeah, I thought you might be curious. It’s not something everyone wants to see, but I think it’s good to look at the work before it’s all finished. You’ll see what we’ve removed and what’s left to be done."

Chan hesitated, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling in his chest. But after a moment, he nodded. "Sure, let’s see."

Minho smiled, his eyes warm as he brought the mirror closer. He angled it just right so Chan could get a clear view of his own mouth. "Here’s tooth 31," Minho said, pointing with a gloved finger. "I’ve cleaned out the canals and removed all the infected tissue. You can see the space where the decay used to be."

Chan leaned slightly, peering into the mirror. The sight was both strange and fascinating—a clean, empty cavity where decay had once been, now neatly drilled out and ready for the next step. Tooth 30, with the decay removed, looked similar, an open space that would soon be filled and sealed.

"Wow," Chan murmured, a mix of awe and disbelief in his voice. "It’s weird seeing it like that. I didn’t realize how much you’d have to drill out."

Minho nodded, his expression softening as he watched Chan take it in. "It’s a lot of work, but seeing it like this helps you understand why it’s so important. You’ve been really brave today, Chan. We’re almost there."

Chan handed the mirror back to Minho, his gaze lingering on the dentist’s face for a moment longer than necessary. "Thanks for showing me," he said quietly, feeling a strange sense of connection in the shared moment.

The words hung in the air, a silent accusation that echoed in the sterility of the room. "I'm sorry," Chan murmured, his voice barely audible. "I know I should've taken better care of myself."

Minho set the mirror down and met his gaze, his eyes filled with a warmth that washed away the coldness of the clinic. "It's okay," he said, his voice a gentle caress. "Everyone has moments of neglect. It's human."

The silence that followed was filled with the sound of their breathing, the air in the room thick with unspoken words and remembered kisses. "You were always so good to me," Chan said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Taking care of my teeth was just one of the many things."

Minho nodded, his eyes never leaving Chan's. "And you were always so stubborn," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But you're here now, and that's what matters." He paused for a moment, his thumb still tracing circles on the back of Chan's hand. "I know it's not easy," he said gently, "but I'm proud of you for facing your fears."

Minho’s smile was gentle as he set the mirror aside and prepared to move on to the next step. "Anytime. Now let’s get these teeth filled and finish up. Open wide" He then filled the cavity with a composite resin, carefully shaping it to match the natural contour of the tooth. A curing light solidified the resin, and Minho polished the surface to a smooth finish.

"Okay, now that both teeth are treated, I’ll remove the rubber dam and take an impression for the temporary crown on tooth 31," Minho said, his tone gentle yet professional.

He carefully removed the rubber dam, the sensation of the frame and sheet slipping away bringing immediate relief to Chan's stretched lips and cheeks. Chan sighed quietly, his mouth feeling less constricted.

Minho then prepared the tooth for the crown by shaping it with a specialized drill, reducing its size to accommodate the crown without altering Chan's bite. The process was precise, Minho ensuring that enough tooth structure remained to support the crown securely.

Once the tooth was prepped, Minho filled an impression tray with a soft, putty-like material. "I'm going to take an impression of your tooth now. This will help us create the temporary crown," he explained. Chan felt the cool material press against his tooth as Minho guided the tray into place. The sensation was slightly uncomfortable, but not painful. He sat still, breathing steadily while Minho held the tray in position, waiting for the material to set.

After a few moments, Minho gently removed the tray and examined the impression. "Perfect," he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I'll have the lab craft the temporary crown. It should be ready shortly."

The silence between them felt charged. Minho finally broke it as he adjusted his gloves, his tone professional but tinged with something more personal. "This crown will hold until we can place the permanent one. How have you been, Chan-ah?"

Chan hesitated, then offered a small smile. "I've been alright. Busy, you know? Work keeps me on my toes."

Minho nodded, his eyes focused on his task but his attention clearly on Chan’s words. "I can imagine. It’s been... different without you around." His voice softened, a hint of vulnerability seeping through his professional facade. 

Chan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected such a candid admission, especially in this setting. "Yeah, it’s been weird for me too. But... I’ve been trying to move forward. Everyone’s been really supportive."

Minho looked up from the dental tray, meeting Chan’s gaze for a brief moment. There was something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or longing—that made Chan’s chest tighten. "I’m glad to hear that," Minho said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The conversation could have ended there, but Chan, feeling the need to fill the silence, decided to share some news. "Hyunjin-ah and Binnie-ah are engaged now," he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It happened a few months ago. They’re planning the wedding for next spring."

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and a genuine smile broke across his face. "Really? That’s amazing. I always thought those two were perfect for each other."

"Yeah, they are," Chan agreed, his own smile widening as he thought of his friends. "It’s good to see them so happy."

Minho’s hands continued to work, but his focus seemed split between the task and the conversation. "I haven’t seen either of them in ages. I’ve been so wrapped up in work... I guess I lost touch with a lot of people."

Chan nodded, understanding all too well. "Life gets in the way sometimes. But I’m sure they’d love to see you."

Minho’s hands stilled for a moment his eyes flickering back to Chan’s. "Maybe I will. I’ve missed being part of all that."

A short time later, an assistant brought in the temporary crown. Minho inspected it before fitting it onto the prepped tooth. The two lapsed into a more comfortable silence as Minho carefully placed the temporary crown on Chan’s tooth, making slight adjustments to ensure it fit properly. Despite the clinical setting, there was something oddly intimate about the moment, as if they were both trying to bridge the gap that had formed between them.

"How does that feel?" Minho asked, encouraging Chan to gently bite down.

Chan tested the fit, moving his jaw slightly. "Feels okay," he replied, his words slightly slurred from the lingering numbness.

"Great," Minho said, securing the temporary crown with a mild adhesive. "Remember, this is just temporary. We'll schedule an appointment for the permanent crown once it's ready."

He removed his gloves, signaling the end of the procedure. "You did really well today, Chan," he praised, his eyes warm with genuine respect. "I know it wasn't easy."

Chan offered a tired but sincere smile. "Thanks, Minho. Couldn't have done it without you."

Minho chuckled softly. "Just doing my job. But seriously, take it easy for the rest of the day. If you feel any discomfort once the anesthesia wears off, over-the-counter painkillers should help. And avoid chewing on that side until the permanent crown is placed."

Chan nodded, absorbing the post-care instructions. He sat up slowly, feeling a bit lightheaded. 

Minho turned off the bright light above the chair, his hands moving to help support Chan as he lifted him into a sitting position. He handed Chan the mirror once more. Chan took a deep breath and peered into the mirror, examining the newly restored teeth. The once-empty spaces were now perfectly filled, the contours and color blending seamlessly with the rest of his teeth. Tooth 31, now crowned, looked whole and strong, as if nothing had ever been wrong. Chan couldn't help but smile slightly, the anxiety and discomfort of the procedure fading as he admired Minho’s work. "It looks... great," he said softly, turning to Minho with a grateful expression. "Thank you."

Minho's gaze held his for a beat longer than necessary before he nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Of course," he said, his voice a balm to the raw emotions that still lingered in the air. "Now, let's talk about the rest of your teeth."

He pulled out a chart, pointing to the areas that needed attention. "We'll need to fill these two cavities in the next appointment," he said, tapping the X-ray image. "And we'll replace that old filling you've had since you were a teenager."

Chan nodded, his gaze lingering on Minho's finger as it traced the X-ray. He could feel the weight of his own neglect, a tangible presence in the room. "Okay," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll make sure to keep those days free."

Minho's eyes remained on the X-ray for a moment longer before he met Chan's gaze. "And the wisdom teeth," he said gently, his voice a soft reminder of their previous conversation. "We'll leave those for last."

Chan nodded, his mind racing with the implications of the extraction. It was a significant procedure. He could feel the anxiety bubbling up again, but Minho's hand on his shoulder was a grounding force. "Okay," he said, his voice a whisper of acceptance.

Chan nodded, sliding the pamphlet into his pocket, his hands steadying as he absorbed Minho’s comforting presence. As Minho led him out to the waiting room, their footsteps echoed softly in the hallway. The door swung open, revealing Changbin sitting there, his face lighting up with relief.

"Binnie-ah?" Chan’s voice cracked slightly, but there was a smile behind it.

Changbin sprang up from his chair, his eyes immediately scanning Chan's face. "Are you okay, Channie-hyung?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"Yeah, I’m fine," Chan replied, his smile growing as he glanced back at Minho. "Minho-yah took good care of me."

Changbin moved forward, pulling Chan into a quick hug. Minho lingered by the door, his gaze softening as he watched the interaction. After a moment, Minho approached, his expression brightening. There was a brief moment of tension, a silent recognition of the complex dynamics at play. But then, Minho's smile grew genuine, and he stepped forward, extending his hand. "It's been a while, Changbin," he said warmly. “Congratulations on the engagement!" Minho said, offering a genuine smile as he extended his hand to Changbin.

Changbin grinned, shaking Minho’s hand enthusiastically and pulling him into a hug. "Thanks, Minho-hyung! We’ve got to catch up soon—maybe grab a drink or something."

Minho’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I’d like that," he agreed. "It’s been too long."

As the receptionist began to assist Chan with scheduling his follow-up appointments, Minho and Changbin continued chatting.

"How’s everything going with the wedding planning?" Minho asked, genuinely curious.

"Busy, but exciting," Changbin replied, his eyes sparkling. "We’re both really looking forward to it. You’ll definitely have to come to the celebration."

Minho chuckled, nodding. "I wouldn’t miss it," he promised. "It’ll be great to see everyone again."

The receptionist handed Chan a card with his next appointment times, interrupting the conversation briefly. "You’re all set for Tuesday and Thursday next week, Bang Chan-ssi," she said with a polite smile.

Minho turned back to Changbin and Chan, his expression warm. "It was really good to see you both," he said. "And seriously, let’s make plans soon."

"Definitely," Changbin said, clapping Minho on the shoulder. "We’ll make it happen."

"Thanks again, Minho-yah," Chan added, his voice filled with gratitude.

"Anytime," Minho replied, his smile lingering as he watched them leave. "See you next week, Chan-ah."

With that, he turned and disappeared into the back room, leaving Chan feeling both relieved and oddly empty. He took the card from the receptionist, his hand trembling slightly as he slipped it into his pocket. Changbin's arm was a comforting weight around his shoulders as they made their way out of the clinic and into the bright sunlight.

As they drove home, Changbin couldn't resist poking fun at Chan. "So, how was it, getting cozy with Minho-hyung again?" he teased, glancing over with a mischievous grin.

Chan rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck was impossible to hide. "It was fine," he muttered, staring out the window. "Just...a bit nerve-wracking, you know? In more ways than one."

Changbin smirked, his voice dripping with amusement. "At least you know he's good with his hands," he quipped. "And hey, you survived without any extra holes in your head, so that's a win."

Chan snorted, the sound breaking through the dull ache in his mouth. "Yeah, funny enough," he murmured, his gaze drifting over the passing scenery, "for the first time in my life, I'm actually looking forward to getting my teeth fixed."

For a moment, the car was quiet, the only sound was the steady hum of the engine and the occasional honk from the busy city streets. Changbin tapped his thumb on the gear stick, matching the beat of the music playing softly in the background. "You know," he said finally, a teasing lilt in his voice, "you two looked pretty good together back there."

Chan groaned, pressing his cheek against the cool glass of the window. "We were just catching up," he said, a bit too defensively. "I just trust him, that's all."

Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Right, because it’s totally normal to get all blushy around someone you’re just catching up with," he said, his voice full of playful skepticism. Then he added, more seriously, "Do you still have feelings for him, Channie-hyung?"

Chan hesitated, his heart sinking as he considered the question. "It’s complicated," he admitted slowly. "Maybe. It’s confusing."

Changbin's expression softened, his tone more empathetic. "Yeah, I get that. But just... don’t let something good slip away again, okay?"

Chan nodded, the ache in his chest mirroring the one in his mouth. As they wove through the crowded streets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he might have already let something precious slip through his fingers.

The next week flew by in a blur of appointments and studio sessions, with each visit to Minho's clinic a mix of dread and anticipation. Chan went back for his permanent crown and a couple of fillings, the procedures done with Minho's usual skill and care. The discomfort was manageable, thanks in no small part to Minho's ability to distract him with light-hearted conversation and humor.

During their second appointment, the atmosphere was unexpectedly comfortable. They lingered after the procedure, chatting easily as if no time had passed since their last meeting. Their conversation flowed naturally, punctuated with laughter and shared memories.

Their interactions extended beyond the clinic as well. It began with Chan asking Minho for a recommendation on an electric toothbrush, but quickly evolved into a daily exchange of texts. They started with simple updates about their days and gradually began sharing humorous posts and light-hearted banter. The messages became a way to reconnect, each exchange a reminder of their shared past and the easy camaraderie they once had.

It wasn’t just about the dental work anymore. Every text, every smile over the phone felt like a tentative dance, steps that were once so familiar but now felt new and uncharted. Chan found himself looking forward to his phone vibrating, each message a small but significant bridge back to Minho.

When Changbin and Hyunjin's engagement party was announced, Chan felt a pang of anxiety. The party was set to be a casual gathering to celebrate their engagement and the completion of their latest album. Changbin extended an invitation to Minho, and Chan couldn't find it in himself to refuse. Despite his initial apprehension, the idea of seeing Minho again outside of the clinic was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

That night, Chan found himself fidgeting with his napkin, his nerves on edge. When Minho walked in, their eyes met immediately, and the room seemed to tilt for a moment. They shared a shy smile, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that still lingered between them.

The dinner was warm and lively, with Changbin and Hyunjin beaming as they caught up with their guests. Minho circulated among them, catching up with their friends, and it was as if no time had passed at all. As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Despite the easygoing atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of anticipation between Chan and Minho. Each glance and smile carried a silent dialogue, filled with a mix of yearning and uncertainty. At one point, Jisung chimed in from beside Minho, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, Minho-hyung, still hitting the gym regularly? Or have you found a new way to stay fit?”

Minho chuckled, shaking his head. “Actually, I’ve lost my gym partner since moving away from my old neighborhood. It’s been tough finding someone with the same schedule.”

Chan, who had been listening from the other side of the table, felt a pang at the mention of their old routine. He had missed those gym sessions with Minho. Tentatively, he spoke up, “I… I could go with you, if you want. I need to start going to the gym more frequently anyways.”

Minho’s eyes brightened, and he nodded enthusiastically. “That would be great,” he said, his smile warm and inviting. “How about we start next week?”

Chan felt a rush of relief and excitement. The offer was a small but significant step toward rekindling their connection. As he sat there, he found himself wondering where Minho lived now. It was strange to think about the different lives they had built since their breakup, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for their time together. When the night drew to a close and guests began to leave, Chan and Minho exchanged a final, meaningful look. The promise of their gym sessions together felt like a beacon of hope.

They began hitting the gym together again, and their time together became more frequent. Chan went back for his remaining fillings, and they enjoyed morning workouts, daily texts, and suddenly they found themselves going to the farmer’s market on the weekends, or going out for a quiet lunch. Despite their growing closeness, they still hadn’t discussed their past relationship. It felt like an invisible bubble was keeping their conversations focused on the present, preventing them from diving into what had happened before.

Not to say they completely avoided it. One evening, Minho was cooking dinner for them in his apartment, which was about 15 minutes away from Chan’s place. Chan took in the surroundings as he lounged on the couch. Minho’s apartment was nice, meticulously organized with a modern touch, but it felt a bit cold and impersonal, lacking the warmth and character that Chan associated with Minho.

The conversation turned to their mutual friends as Minho stirred a pot on the stove. “You know Jeongin and Seungmin are still close? When Seungmin was mobbed at the airport, Jeongin, oh man, he totally panicked. He was running around like headless chicken. I thought he was going to have a meltdownIn the clinic!” Minho said with a grin. “I still remember when Seungmin was a trainee—so awkward and shy. Now he’s this massive star!” 

Chan chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, that was quite the scene. I don’t really remember much from around that time, though. It’s like there's fog over those months,” he admitted without thinking. 

Minho looked at him with concern, and Chan saw a flicker of realization in Minho’s eyes as he realized Seungmin’s incident happened right around their breakup. “Why’s that?” Minho asked carefully. 

As Minho continued to stir the pot, Chan moved over to help him, grabbing the knife Minho had been using to continue chopping the vegetables, using it as a way to avoid Minho’s gaze. Chan hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. “After we broke up I struggled a lot. I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. It was this heavy, suffocating grief. The days all blurred together, and after Jisung-ah and Chanbin-ah finally dragged me out of our apartment, I threw myself into work to avoid the pain. It wasn’t until I collapsed at the studio that I realized I needed help. That’s when I finally got a therapist.”

Minho’s eyes darkened with concern as he listened. His hand reached across the counter, gently squeezing Chan’s arm. “I had no idea. I’m really sorry.”

Chan shrugged, feeling the warmth of Minho’s touch. “I’m doing better now. I’m working through my shit, just like you suggested I should.”

Minho nodded slowly, his expression reflective. “I had a tough time too, you know. After we broke up, I didn’t unpack my things in the new apartment for months. It was like living in limbo. I kept avoiding it, unable to face the change.”

Chan looked down, the weight of their shared struggles settling between them. “I regret not giving our relationship the attention it deserved. I neglected it, and I’m really sorry.”

Minho nodded again. “I accept your apology. We both have our regrets. I should’ve been more understanding, and shouldn’t have blown up so angrily at you that night.” Chan reached out to tangle his finger with Minho’s squeezing them as I sign that he also accepted Minho’s apology. 

They continued to talk, the conversation flowing naturally as they enjoyed the dinner Minho had prepared. The simple act of sitting together, sharing a meal, their fingers tangling again over the dinner table, a comforting sign that they were making progress. 

After their conversation, things between Minho and Chan started to fall into place. They settled into a new routine, spending more time together and reconnecting with friends. They went out more, visited each other’s apartments, and exchanged door codes for convenience. If Minho was surprised that Chan’s door code was still the date of their anniversary, he didn’t say anything.  Minho began stopping by Chan’s studio regularly after he was done with his patients for the day, while Chan made a habit of bringing lunch to Minho when he was busy at the clinic.

Their time together was marked by small, affectionate gestures—tangled fingers, gentle caresses, and soft-spoken words. Despite this growing closeness, they avoided discussing their feelings or the past. Their unspoken emotions lingered in the background, evident in their tender interactions but never openly addressed.

As their routine settled into a comfortable rhythm, their friends began to notice the subtle changes in Chan and Minho’s relationship. The gentle touches, shared smiles, and occasional lingering glances did not go unnoticed.

One evening, while they were all hanging out at Changbin and Hyunjin’s place on the rare night Seungmin had off, Felix, with his usual curiosity, turned to Chan. “So, Channie-hyung,” he began, his tone light but probing, “what’s the deal with you and Minho? You two seem to be spending a lot of time together lately.”

Changbin, who had been listening intently, chimed in, “Yeah, you guys are practically inseparable these days. What’s going on?”

Chan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing between them. “It’s just... we’ve been hanging out a lot. You know, catching up and spending time together.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and curiosity in his expression. “Catching up? It seems like there’s more to it than that. You both look pretty cozy.”

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, yeah. We’re getting close again. But we haven’t really talked about what it means. We’re just enjoying the time we have together.”

Hyunjin’s gaze softened. “It sounds like you’re both working through things. It’s clear you care about each other.”

Chan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we do. It’s been nice to reconnect, even if we’re not discussing everything that’s happened.”

Jisung gave a knowing smile. “Sometimes, it’s the quiet moments that speak the loudest. I’m glad to see you both finding your way.” Changbin cooed at that and they all ended up piled together in a hug on the same couch, Chan closing his eyes basking at the happiness that was slowly but surely growing every day. 

He'd been putting off setting a date for the extraction of his wisdom teeth for months. He dreaded the final procedure, and the thought of dealing with the discomfort and recovery was enough to make him postpone the decision repeatedly. One evening, as Chan and Minho settled in to watch a movie at Chan's apartment, the weight of his decision seemed to loom over him. They had picked a light-hearted film and were enjoying their time together, with Minho nestled comfortably beside him on the couch.

Suddenly, Chan was jolted from his relaxed state by an intense, throbbing pain in his mouth. It was sharper and more persistent than any ache he had felt before. He winced, clutching his jaw and trying to focus on the screen, but the pain was overwhelming.

Minho, noticing Chan's discomfort, paused the movie and looked at him with concern. “Are you okay? You seem like you’re in a lot of pain.”

Chan tried to downplay it, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just a little twinge. I’ll be fine.”

Minho’s expression turned suspicious, clearly not believing him and he reached out to gently touch Chan’s cheek. “Let me take a look. You don’t have to suffer through this.”

Chan hesitated, but the pain was too much to ignore. He nodded and opened his mouth for Minho to examine. Minho’s eyes widened slightly as he inspected the affected area with his cellphone’s flashlight. 

“This doesn’t look good,” Minho said softly, his concern growing. “The decay might be getting worse. You really should get those wisdom teeth out soon.”

Chan sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. “I know, I’ve been avoiding it. I just didn’t want to deal with it yet.”

Minho gave a reassuring smile. “Waiting will only make it worse. I’ll schedule you in at the clinic tomorrow.”

Chan looked at Minho, his eyes reflecting his fear. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He hesitated before speaking. “I’m just so terrified. What if it’s worse than I expect?”

Minho’s expression softened, and he gently squeezed Chan’s hand. “I understand that you’re scared, but I’ll be the one doing the extractions. I promise to make it as comfortable as possible for you. It’s completely normal to be anxious about it.”

Chan nodded, feeling a bit reassured by Minho’s calming presence. “Okay, if you’re sure. I appreciate it.”

Minho smiled warmly. “Of course. I’m here for you.”

As they resumed their movie, Chan felt a bit more at ease, knowing Minho would be by his side through the procedure.

The next day, Chan arrived at Minho’s clinic, his nerves frayed and his anxiety palpable. As he walked through the doors, the familiar clinical smell and the sight of the polished, sterile environment did little to calm his racing heart. He tried to focus on the comfort of the waiting room, but his thoughts kept circling back to the impending procedure.

Minho greeted him with a reassuring smile as he approached the reception. “Hey, Chan-ah. Ready to get started?”

Chan managed a weak smile, though his hands were clenched tightly around his bag. “I’m ready, I guess.”

Minho guided him to the examination room, where Chan sat in the familiar dental chair. The soft hum of the equipment and the bright overhead lights seemed to amplify his anxiety. Minho’s calm demeanor was a small comfort, but Chan’s fear was difficult to shake.

Minho set up his tools and turned to Chan with a reassuring look. “I’m going to do a quick exam to assess the situation before we proceed. Just try to relax.”

Chan nodded, trying to steady his breathing as Minho examined his mouth. It felt longer than it probably was, with Minho gently probing and checking the affected areas. Chan winced slightly as Minho’s touch reached the inflamed regions. 

Minho’s expression grew serious as he finished the examination. “Chan, the decay in your lower wisdom teeth has definitely worsened. It’s clear that we need to move forward with the extractions. I know this it’s scary, but I want to make sure you’re no longer in pain.”

Chan swallowed hard, his fear returning with a rush. “How bad is it?”

Minho took a deep breath before responding. “It’s significant. The decay has progressed to the point where it’s causing quite a bit of damage. We need to address it to prevent any further complications.”

Chan’s heart sank, but he tried to remain calm. “Okay. I trust you to handle it.”

Minho gave him a reassuring smile. “Thank you for trusting me. I’ll do everything I can to make this as smooth and painless as possible. Let’s get you ready.”

Chan nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. The knowledge that Minho would be performing the procedure himself helped ease his fear just a little. As Minho prepared for the extractions, Chan focused on his breathing, trying to stay calm and positive.

As Minho prepped the instruments, the array of shiny, metal tools looked intimidating to Chan, each one more foreboding than the last. The forceps, with their sharp, gleaming edges, seemed to promise discomfort rather than relief. Chan’s anxiety mounted as he watched Minho arrange them with practiced precision.

Minho glanced over at Chan, catching his worried gaze. “We’re almost ready,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring despite the clinical setting. “Just a few more minutes.”

Chan swallowed hard, his throat dry and his mouth feeling parched. “Okay,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Minho offered a reassuring smile,“We’ll get through this together,” he said, his eyes meeting Chan’s with a sense of quiet confidence.

Minho put on his mask and gloves, the snaps echoing in the quiet room. “I’m going to give you some anesthesia now,” he said, his voice soothing. “It’ll just feel like a little pinch.”

The coolness of the gel on Chan’s gum was a welcome relief from the throbbing ache. The needle pierced the skin, and for a moment, the pain flared before the sweet numbness spread, a gentle wave that crashed over him like a whispered promise. “Good,” Minho murmured, his eyes on the syringe. “You’re doing great.”

Chan nodded, his eyes flicking to the instruments laid out on the tray. The shiny silver of the forceps glinted in the light, a silent reminder of what’s to come. “I trust you,” he repeated again, his voice trembling.

Minho smiled gently. “I know,” he said, his voice a balm to the storm of emotions inside Chan. “Just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

He felt Minho's fingers in his mouth, checking the numbness. “I’m going to start now,” Minho said, his voice a gentle reminder of the task at hand. “You’re going to feel some pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt. Just remember to keep breathing, okay?”

Chan nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as Minho’s gloved hands came into view, holding the forceps. The cold metal touched his gum, and he flinched involuntarily. “Shh,” Minho whispered, “You’re doing so well.”

The pressure built, a steady crescendo that made Chan's teeth ache in a way that was different from the pain he had been enduring. He felt the tooth shift, a sensation that was both terrifying and oddly fascinating. He couldn’t help but clench his fists, his knuckles turning white as the forceps applied steady, even pressure.

“Just a little more,” Minho murmured, his voice a lifeline in the sea of sensation. “Breathe in, and hold it.”

The pressure increased and then with a final twist, a sudden release. Chan felt the tooth give way, the sensation a strange mix of pain and relief. “First one’s out,” Minho said, his voice a gentle whisper in the silence that followed. “You did it.”

Chan opened his eyes, the room coming back into focus. He nodded, the tension in his body slowly easing. “Can I see it?” he asked, his curiosity piqued despite the discomfort.

Minho nodded, holding up the tooth with the forceps. It was a strange sight, his own wisdom tooth looking so foreign in the cold metal forceps. It was larger than he’d imagined. “You can see the cavity,” Minho said, pointing to the dark spot with the tip of his finger. “It’s a good thing we got to it when we did.”

Chan nodded, his eyes glued to the tooth. He was fascinated by the reality of it all, the tangible proof of his fears. He had always been the one to push through pain, to ignore his own needs for the sake of others, but now, as he looked at the culmination of his avoidance, he felt a mix of guilt and relief. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Minho’s smile softened, his eyes filled with understanding. He set the tooth aside and prepared for the next extraction, then gently reexamined the area where the second wisdom tooth was to be removed. After a careful look, he sighed. “The decay on this one has worsened significantly,” he said quietly. “It’s good we’re taking care of it now.”

Chan’s anxiety surged anew, but Minho’s calm presence was a steadying force. “You’re doing great,” Minho reassured him, his voice gentle. “Let’s get this over with.”

He opens his mouth again, his heart racing as he feels Minho's gloved fingers pressing against his cheek. “I’m going to give you a bit more anesthesia on this side,” he said softly, his hand moving with practiced ease. The additional numbness was a brief, sharp sensation followed by a comforting, deeper numbness. He focuses on the sound of Minho's breathing, the steady inhale and exhale that seems to anchor him in the moment.

The grip of the forceps is cold, but it's the warmth of Minho's hand that grounds him. The pressure starts again, the forceps wiggling slightly as they find their grip. Chan's eyes squeeze shut tighter, his breaths coming in short gasps. He can feel the tooth moving, the ache in his jaw spreading like a spiderweb of discomfort. But Minho's hand is there, a constant reminder of his care.

"It's okay," Minho whispers, his voice a soothing balm. "This one's being a bit more stubborn, but we've got it."

The forceps clamp down, the metal digging into the gum around the tooth. It's a strange dance, one that's painful yet oddly comforting. The tension in the room seems to thicken, the air heavy with anticipation. Each twist and turn of the forceps is met with a helpless whimper from Chan's throat, his body fighting the intrusion even as he knows it's necessary.

Minho's movements are precise, his eyes focused on the task at hand. Sweat beads on his forehead. The forceps tug and twist, the metal instruments a silent symphony of care and necessity. Chan can feel the tooth's resistance, the final protest before it yields to Minho's expert touch. It's a strange, almost intimate moment, this dance of pain and healing. Each pull is a step closer to the end, a step closer to something new.

With a final, firm tug, the second tooth gives way. Minho holds it up for Chan to see, the cavity a stark, dark void in the white enamel. It's larger than the first, a testament to the neglect that had led him here. But instead of revulsion, Chan feels a strange sense of relief. It's out. It's over. He's faced his fear, and Minho has been there, every step of the way.

Minho's eyes are warm with victory as he sets the forceps down. "No more cavities," he says, his voice filled with a gentle triumph. "You're all set."

Chan's smile is lopsided, the anesthesia making his cheek feel heavy and his thoughts a little fuzzy. "Thanks," he mumbles, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Couldn't have done it without you."

Minho's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Always," he says, his voice filled with a warmth that makes Chan's heart ache. "Now, I just need to put a couple of stitches in to help your gums heal properly. It'll just be a few moments of discomfort, I promise."

Chan nods, his trust in Minho unshaken. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the scent of mint still lingering in the air. He feels the gentle tug of the thread, the slight sting of the needle piercing his gum. It's a strange, almost detached sensation, as if he's watching someone else's body go through the motions. Minho's hands are steady, his movements precise and sure.

As the minutes tick by, the pain fades into the background, a distant echo of the fear that had once consumed him. In its place, a warmth spreads through him, a comfort that feels eerily like home. He can hear the steady beat of Minho's heart, the soft whisper of his breath, and the occasional murmur of reassurance. It's as if the world outside the clinic has ceased to exist, and all that remains is the two of them, connected by pain and history.

Suddenly, he feels a gentle shake. "Chan-ah," Minho's voice is a soft caress, pulling him from the haze. "Channie, you can open your eyes now."

Blinking awake, he looks up to find Minho's eyes searching his, filled with a warm concern that makes his chest tighten. "You did it," Minho says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You're okay."

Chan nods, his mouth feeling strange and swollen. He reaches up to touch his face, and Minho gently stops him. "Careful," he warns, his voice soft. "Let me finish up."

He watches as Minho's gloved hands deftly pack the extraction sites with gauze, the pads of his fingers pressing gently against the tender gums. Each touch sends a shiver down his spine. . "You're going to want to keep this in for about an hour," Minho instructs, his eyes focused on his work. "It'll help with the bleeding."

Chan nods, his eyes never leaving Minho's face. "Okay," he says, his voice a little too quiet. The room is still, the only sound the rustle of the paper as Minho secures the gauze with a gentle pat.

Jisung enters the room after Minho had okayed it, tasked with taking Chan home, his eyes scanning the scene with a concerned gaze. "You alright?" he asks, his voice filled with the same care that Minho had shown moments ago. Chan nods sleepily.

Minho repeats the care instructions for Jisung and tells Chan he will drop by his apartment after he's done with the rest of his patients that afternoon. "Make sure you get plenty of rest," he says firmly, his eyes still full of warmth.

With that, Jisung takes Chan home. He follows Minho's instructions and changes the gauze in his mouth after an hour and then falls asleep for most of the afternoon, only waking up when he hears the beep of the front door. He blinks sleepily, his mouth still feeling a little numb despite the dull throb, and opens his eyes to find Minho standing there, a bag of supplies in hand.

"How are you feeling, sleepyhead?" Minho asks, his eyes scanning over Chan's swollen face with a professional concern. He places the bag on the table and gently sits next to Chan on the couch. 

"I have a little pain, Chan admits.

"Can you open your mouth so I can take a look?" Minho turns to remove a small flashlight and a dental mirror in a sterilized packet from his bag. His touch is gentle as he peels back the gauze, revealing the stitches. "Looks good," he murmurs, his eyes scrutinizing the area. "The bleeding stopped, and the stitches are holding up fine."

He stands up to grab a glass of water and Chan's next dose of painkillers and hands them to Chan. Chan takes them dutifully, and then gives Minho a strange look and mumbles something.

"What?"

"I said, I like you taking care of me," Chan repeats, his words slurred slightly from the anesthesia.

Minho's cheeks flush a soft pink, a color that seems to warm the entire room. "I know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... I've missed it."

He gently strokes his thumb along Chan's swollen jawline, the pad of his finger tracing his skin with a tenderness that feels like a ghost of their past. It's a silent admission, a confession etched in the softness of his touch. Chan's eyes drift shut, the sensation bringing a wave of comfort that threatens to drown him.

"Minho-yah," he says, his voice thick with emotion, all of the events of the day making him feel vulnerable. "I never stopped."

Minho’s thumb freezes on Chan’s skin. "What do you mean?" His voice is soft, and for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

Chan opens his eyes and looks at him seriously, reaching out to cover Minho's hand on his jaw. "Sweetheart, I never stopped loving you," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper. "I've been so scared to admit it, to let you know how much I miss you. This is all my fault."

Minho exhales shakily, his eyes searching Chan's face. "I can't do this again, Chan-ah," he says, the words torn from his chest. "I can't give you my heart and have you break it again. I won't survive it a second time."

Chan nods, his eyes filling with understanding. "I know," he says, his voice sincere. "But I've changed. I've been going to therapy, working on my anxieties, learning to balance work and life. I've missed you so much, and I don't want to lose you again."

Minho's gaze holds his, searching for the truth in his words. He can see the earnestness in Chan's eyes, the pain and regret etched into the lines of his face. It's a look that tugs at his heartstrings, a reminder of the love that once burned so brightly between them.

"Ask me again in the morning," he says, his voice a soft echo in the quiet room. "When the anesthesia has worn off, and you're thinking clearly."

Chan nods, the movement sending a jolt of pain through his jaw. "Fair enough," he murmurs, his eyes drooping shut again. "But I'm sure I'll still feel the same." He then realizes something. "Does this mean you're staying tonight?" 

Finally, he nods. "I'll stay," he says, his voice cracking slightly. "But just to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't need anything in the middle of the night. You're my star patient."

Chan grins goofily at Minho, his cheeks feeling heavy and his speech slurred. "You're the best," he mumbles, his eyes already drifting shut.

Minho helps Chan shift into a more comfortable position on the couch and then gently checks that he's comfortable. “Let’s make sure you get something soft to eat,” he says, moving to the kitchen. He returns with a bowl of mashed potatoes and a spoon, making sure it’s cool enough for Chan to eat without causing discomfort.

“Here you go,” Minho says, offering the bowl. Chan eats slowly, the soft food easing the strain on his jaw. Minho stays close, ready to assist if needed.

Once Chan finishes, Minho retrieves a soft toothbrush and some toothpaste. He sits beside Chan, carefully brushing his teeth with a tenderness that reflects the care he’s shown throughout the evening. “We don’t want any complications,” he says softly, his hands steady and gentle.

Chan leans back, his eyes half-closed in contentment. “Thanks, Minho,” he murmurs, the words more of a sigh than a statement.

Minho chuckles softly, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he helps Chan to his feet. The weight of the day seems to lift just a little, his heart feeling lighter than it has in a long time. As he guides Chan down the hallway, Minho is struck by the soft, familiar glow of the bedside lamp in the bedroom they used to share. The light casts gentle shadows across the room, illuminating the remnants of their past—traces of late-night conversations, shared laughter, and tender moments that once filled these walls.

Each step feels heavy with nostalgia, Minho’s heart pounding a little harder with every beat. When they reach the bed, he helps Chan to sit down gently before carefully laying him back. Their eyes meet in a moment of quiet intensity, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It’s as if time has stopped, allowing them to relive a fragment of their shared history.

Chan looks at Minho with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. His gaze, soft and uncertain, meets Minho’s. “Can you stay with me here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of the pain and need he’s been holding back.

Minho’s heart aches at the sight of Chan’s longing expression, the request a balm to his own weary soul. The room, filled with the ghosts of their past, feels both comforting and bittersweet. Minho nods, his smile tinged with a touch of melancholy. “Okay,” he replies, his voice steady but soft. “I’ll stay with you.”

He settles beside Chan, adjusting the covers and making sure he’s comfortable. The intimacy of the space wraps around them like a comforting embrace. As he tucks Chan in, Minho’s touch is gentle, each movement infused with care.

Chan shifts closer to Minho once he’s settled on what used to be his side of the bed, instinctively seeking the warmth and comfort that has been absent for so long. He nestles his head against Minho’s shoulder, the familiar rhythm of his breathing soothing the ache of his recently worked-on mouth. Minho wraps an arm around Chan, pulling him in close, his own exhaustion melting away in the softness of the moment.

They lie there, cocooned in the gentle glow of the bedside lamp. Chan’s breathing becomes steady and slow0  Minho watches him for a moment, a tender smile gracing his lips. The weight of the day’s emotions and the worries of their fractured past seem to lift, if only for the night.

As Minho’s eyes grow heavy, he feels the comforting pressure of Chan’s presence beside him. He gently adjusts the covers, ensuring Chan is warm and comfortable. The quiet of the room is punctuated only by their synchronized breathing as he falls asleep. 

The sun begins to filter through the curtains, casting a gentle, golden glow across the room. Minho stirs, feeling the warmth of the morning light mingling with the soft caress of Chan’s fingers running through his hair. Slowly, he opens his eyes to find Chan awake, his gaze filled with a contemplative softness that tugs at Minho’s heart.

"You stayed," Chan whispers, his voice still thick with sleep and lingering tenderness.

Minho nods, his eyes meeting Chan’s with a depth of feeling that he struggles to contain. "You asked," he replies, his voice rich with emotion. In that quiet room, the truth between them seems to weave a fragile thread that connects their hearts, bridging the gap left by a year and a half of separation.

Chan takes a steadying breath, his chest tight with a hopeful ache. "Can we?" he asks, his voice a whisper that seems to resonate through the stillness. "Can we try again?"

Chan sees Minho’s eyes search his the early morning light dancing across his features and revealing the tumult of love and fear within. He pauses, his heart racing as he contemplates the enormity of what could be. The room, once filled with their shared history and unspoken feelings, feels small yet infinitely significant.

"I never stopped loving you either," Minho admits softly, his voice trembling with the weight of the confession. The words linger in the air, a revelation that seems to echo in every corner of their shared space. It’s a moment that is both frightening and exhilarating, a new beginning forged from the remnants of their past.

Chan’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "Really?" he asks, his voice a breathless blend of hope and wonder.

Minho nods, his thumb tenderly brushing against Chan’s cheek. "Really," he affirms, his voice a promise wrapped in warmth. The shadow of their past begins to dissolve, leaving only the comforting presence of their shared moment. "But we need to take it slow," he adds gently, his tone a cautious reminder. "We can’t just leap back into what we had without mending what once tore us apart."

Chan’s eyes remain locked on Minho’s, his resolve unwavering. "I understand," he says firmly, his voice filled with determination. "I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll go to therapy with you, I’ll work on our communication, and I’ll make sure we nurture our relationship." Minho’s smile finally breaks through, illuminating his face with a warmth that melts away the last vestiges of tension. "I love you, jagi," Chan murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. It’s a simple statement, but it carries the weight of a year’s worth of unspoken longing and regret.

With a soft sigh, Chan closes the distance between them, pressing a gentle kiss to Minho’s lips. It’s a tender, chaste kiss, mindful of his recent procedure, yet filled with an electricity that speaks of hope and a future together. The numbness of Chan’s mouth is overshadowed by the warmth of Minho’s breath, the softness of his touch—a promise of love rekindled.

Minho pulls back, a chuckle bubbling from his chest. "No kissing until you’re fully recovered," he teases, playfully swatting at Chan. But his smile tells a story of joy and relief, the tension between them dissipating like a summer storm. Chan watches Minho reach his hand and caress his cheek gently. “I love you, too. 

Chan grins widely, and then yawns, his eyes heavy with fatigue. "Fine," he murmurs, snuggling into Minho’s embrace.

Minho wraps the blankets around them, his arms encircling Chan with a protective warmth. "Get some rest," he whispers, his voice a tender murmur in the quiet room. "We’ll talk more about this when you’re feeling better."

It's difficult work, but they take it day by day. Together, they begin attending therapy sessions, mending the gaps in their communication and learning to balance their careers with their personal lives. Each step they take is a testament to their growing bond, building something profoundly stronger with every shared moment.

When they tell their friends , their joy is apparent in their smiles and knowing glances. Changbin and Jisung, in particular, celebrate the couple’s renewed connection with heartfelt congratulations, their support wrapping around Minho and Chan like a warm embrace as they navigate this new chapter together.

When Minho’s lease ends three months later, they make the decision to move back in together. The transition is seamless, almost as if he never left. They settle back into their routines with ease, each corner of the space resonating with the familiarity of their past and the promise of their future. It’s as if the time apart only served to deepen their bond, and now, every small gesture, every shared glance, is a reminder of the love they’ve rekindled and the life they’re building together.

And if the ring Chan had bought so long ago finds its way onto Minho’s finger in six months despite their promise to take things slow—well, Chan was never going to let Minho go again.