Not very many things scared Spot Conlon. He may be short, but very few people were willing to mess with him. He had a reputation for a reason. It kept him safe. It kept people from harassing him and his boyfriend. He’d worked since he was a very small child to make sure that people didn’t know his weaknesses. But still, he found himself shaking uncontrollably. He would rather be anywhere but here.
He didn’t know what it was about the dentist’s office that scared him so much. It didn’t look that frightening to the unknowing eye. The waiting room was well stocked with horrible magazines that no person in their right mind would actually pay for, but always looked forward to reading in doctor’s offices or salons. There was a giant fish tank in the corner, with all sorts of exotic fish in it. The staff was friendly and smiling, all of them with perfect white teeth.
Yet the very act of sitting in the waiting room was causing Spot’s nerves to go haywire. His boyfriend patted his hand, and smiled, trying to keep him calm. Spot would normally pull away, not liking to take any sort of comfort from Racetrack while they were in public. He was the dominant one, damnit, but right now it was all he could do to keep himself from curling up in Racetrack’s arms and hiding from the fate that was sure to come.
“Sean Conlon?” a voice called. “You’re next.”
Racetrack smiled at him. “I’ll be okay,” he promised. “And I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Spot nervously walked into the dentist’s office.
“So,” the dentist said as Spot settled into the chair. “A root canal, eh? You should take better care of your mouth.” He pulled out a set of very scary looking tools. “Yes, it’s definitely going to be a long, slow root canal.”
Screw dignity, Spot thought, and he began to scream.
Can anyone tell that I really don't want to go to the dentist tomorrow?