Chapter 2 Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
"Sebastian, I need you in chair three." Dr. Weismann poked his head out of his office and looked at me with that expression he got when dealing with difficult patients. "We have a situation."
I looked up from the supply cabinet where I'd been restocking gauze pads. "What kind of situation?"
"A nervous one." He adjusted his glasses and lowered his voice even though the hallway was empty. "Very nervous. I think he's about five seconds from bolting out the door. I need your magical touch."
My magic touch was basically just being myself and making scared patients feel comfortable, but I didn't mind the compliment. "A kid?"
"No, actually. Full-grown man." He glanced back toward the exam rooms. "Big guy too. Looks like he could bench press me without breaking a sweat, but he's terrified."
I grabbed a fresh pair of gloves and followed Dr. Weismann down the hall. "What's he in for?"
"Impacted wisdom tooth that needs to come out, but first we need to get him calm enough for X-rays." He stopped outside the door and put his hand on my shoulder. "Work your Sebastian magic. Get him relaxed and sedated so we can figure out what we're dealing with."
"You got it, boss." I took a deep breath and pushed open the door with my most enthusiastic smile plastered on my face.
And then I froze.
The man sitting in the dental chair was not what I expected.
Dr. Weismann said big, but this guy was huge.
Broad shoulders that strained against a gray t-shirt, thick arms crossed over his chest, and a jaw that looked like it was carved from granite.
He had short dark hair and a scowl that would probably scare weaker men.
He was also the hottest man I'd ever seen in real life.
"Hi there!" I bounced into the room and headed straight for the counter to grab my tablet. "I'm Sebastian, your dental tech extraordinaire and pain-warrior supreme." I turned around and gave him a little salute. "But you can call me Seb. Everyone does."
The man just stared at me with narrowed eyes, his knuckles white where his hands gripped the armrests. He didn't say a word.
Okay, tough crowd.
I walked over to the chair and leaned against the counter beside him. "So, I hear you've got a tooth that's no longer happy in its home? Mind if I take a look?"
The man shifted in his seat and his jaw clenched. "Do I have a choice?"
"Well, sure. You can always leave." I shrugged and kept my tone light as I scanned his chart.
Brandon Cooper, 37. Hot as fuck. Everything I needed to know about the man.
Well, almost everything. "But then that tooth is just gonna keep bothering you, and eventually, it'll bother your whole face and…we don’t want to mess up that mug. Trust me, teeth aren’t like men. They don't get better with age."
A tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, and I wasn't sure if he was trying not to smile or trying not to punch me in the face. Could go either way with a guy this tense.
“Sorry.” His voice was low and gravelly, like he'd just woken up from a nap. It sent a little shiver down my spine. "I don’t like dentists."
"That's okay." I pulled out the gloves and snapped them on. "Lots of people don’t, but I'm not a dentist. I'm just a tech, and my job is to make sure you're comfortable." I moved closer and adjusted the overhead light so I could see his face better. "When did the pain start?"
He swallowed hard and his Adam's apple bobbed. "A few days ago."
"Yikes." I made a sympathetic face and pulled up a rolling stool so I could sit beside him. "That's a long time to be in pain. You must be pretty miserable."
"You could say that." His fingers flexed on the armrests, and his breathing was fast and shallow.
Poor guy was really freaking out.
I dealt with this often with kids who were scared of the dentist. The trick was to distract them with something silly or comforting. But Brandon wasn't a kid. He was a grown man who could snap me in half if he wanted to.
Still, I had a job to do.
"Okay, so here's what we're gonna do." I leaned forward and looked him right in the eyes.
They were brown and intense, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
"First, I'm gonna take some X-rays so we can see what we’re working with. Then, Dr. Weismann is gonna come in and look at the pictures, and if you agree, we’ll go ahead and take care of that pain. Sound good?"
He didn't respond verbally, but his grip on the armrests loosened just a fraction, and I saw a slight dip of his chin.
That was progress.
"I promise it won't hurt." I stood up and pulled the X-ray arm over from the wall mount. "It's just a camera that takes pictures of your teeth. All you have to do is hold still for a few seconds, and I'll do all the work."
His eyes tracked my movements as I positioned the machine, but when I reached for the lead apron, his whole body tensed up again. "What's that for?"
"Just a safety blanket." I draped it over his chest and tried not to notice how solid he felt under my hands.
"It protects the rest of your body from the X-rays. It’s heavy, but you look like you can handle a little weight draped over you.
" I patted his shoulder and then immediately regretted it because now I knew exactly how firm his muscles were.
Focus, Sebastian.
"Okay, I need you to open wide for me." I held up the bite wing and showed it to him. "This is gonna go in your mouth, and I just need you to gently bite down on it to hold it in place. It might feel weird, but it shouldn’t hurt."
He slowly opened his mouth and let me position the plastic piece against his molars. His jaw trembled as he closed his teeth around it, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils.
"You're doing great, Brandon." I adjusted the machine against his cheek and made sure everything was lined up. "Just hold still for three seconds, okay? One...two...three." The machine beeped as soon as I was out the door. "That one’s done, and it wasn't so bad, right?"
He spit out the bite wing into my hand and shook his head. "Not bad."
"See? I told you I'm a pain-warrior extraordinaire." I gave him a little wink and moved the machine to get the next angle. "I just need a few more, and then we'll get Dr. Weismann back in here. You've got this."
We went through the same process three more times, and each time, he relaxed a little more. By the time I was putting the machine back, his breathing had slowed down, and his hands were resting loosely on the armrests and no longer strangling them.
"All right, the hard part is done." I pulled off my gloves and tossed them in the trash. "You want some water while you wait?"
"No, I'm good." His voice was still rough, but there was less edge to it now.
"Okay. I'll be right back." I headed for the door and then paused. "Oh, and by the way, you were super brave. Way better than most of the patients we get in here."
One eyebrow shot up, and I saw a hint of a smile. "Yeah, I bet."
"I’m dead serious." I flashed him a grin.
"I've seen grown men tear up over X-rays.
You didn't even flinch." I left the room before he could respond and headed straight for Dr. Weismann's office.
My heart was pounding way harder than it should have been after a routine X-ray, but that had nothing to do with the job and everything to do with the sexy man sitting in chair three.
Dr. Weismann looked up from his computer when I knocked on the doorframe. "How'd it go?"
"Got the X-rays." I handed him the tablet. "He's still nervous but cooperating. I think he just needs someone to talk him through everything step by step."
"Good work." He pulled up the images and zoomed in on one of the molars. "Oh boy. Yeah, we need to get number 17 out."
I felt bad for the guy but knew he was in the best hands. "Should I tell him?"
"No, I'll go in and explain everything." He stood up and grabbed his coat. "But I want you in there with me. Sounds like he’s responding well to your chairside manner."
"Sure thing." I followed him back down the hall, and when we walked into the room, the man's whole body tensed up again.
Dr. Weismann launched into his explanation about his plan to remove the infected tooth, and I watched as the color slowly drained from Brandon’s face. He looked like he was about to pass out. "We'll get you numbed up really well." Dr. Weismann patted his shoulder. "You won't feel a thing."
Brandon’s jaw clenched, and I could see the panic rising in his eyes as he started to hyperventilate. “I need a few days to think about this.”
I stepped forward and put my hand on the armrest beside his. "Hey, big guy. I know it’s scary and a lot to take in after avoiding this chair for so long, but we're gonna take good care of you."
His eyes snapped to mine, and for a second, I saw something vulnerable that made my chest tighten in a way I wasn't expecting.
"Sebastian here is the best tech I've ever worked with." Dr. Weismann smiled at me and then back at the man. "He’ll get you all set up with some nitrous oxide to help you relax, and then we'll get started. Any questions?"
He shook his head and blew out an exhale. “No, I guess that’s fine.”
Dr. Weismann left me to prep his tools and set up the nitrous machine. "Have you ever had laughing gas before?"
"Not that I can recall." His voice was barely above a whisper.
"It's pretty great." I wheeled the machine over and held up the mask. "All you do is breathe normally, and it'll make you feel all floaty and relaxed. Like you just drank a glass of wine but without the hangover."
“That’s enough to make me numb?”
“Not exactly.” I rested my hip against the chair and whispered. “This is enough to make you not care whether you’re numb or not. Once you’re floaty, we’ll administer the local anesthesia so you’ll be super-duper numb.”
He stared at the mask like it was a weapon.
Time to switch tactics.
I sat down on the stool beside him and lowered my voice to the gentle, soothing tone I used with scared kids. "Can I tell you a secret?"
His eyes flicked to mine, and he swallowed.
"I used to be terrified of the dentist too." I kept my voice soft and calm. "I had a really bad experience when I was six, and after that, I refused to go back. My mom had to basically drag me kicking and screaming."
He scoffed but didn't look away.
"But then I met this one dentist who was really nice.
He showed me all the tools and explained what they did, and he let me hold the little mirror thing and look at my own teeth.
" I smiled at the memory. "And when it was time for the scary part, he told me to close my eyes and think about my favorite thing in the whole world. "
"What was your favorite thing?" His voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear him.
"Dinosaurs." I grinned. "I was obsessed with T-rexes. Still am, actually. I've got a whole collection of them at home."
That got a relaxed exhale out of him. "Yeah? That’s cool."
"Yep." I held up the mask again. "So here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna put this mask on you, and you're gonna breathe normally. And while you're breathing, you can think about your favorite thing. Whatever makes you happy. Deal?"
He stared at me for a long moment, and then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fine.”
I carefully placed the mask over his nose and turned on the gas. "Just breathe in and out through your nose. Nice and slow."
He closed his eyes and inhaled.
I watched as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. After a minute or so, his shoulders started to relax, and his hands finally unclenched from the armrests. "That's it." I kept my voice low and soothing. "You're doing so good, Brandon. Just keep breathing."
His whole body seemed to melt into the chair, and when he opened his eyes again, they were soft and a little glazed. "This...this is nice."
"Told you." I smiled and adjusted the flow of gas. "Just keep your mouth closed as much as possible, and when you open it, keep breathing through your nose.”
He grunted.
“How’re you feeling?"
"Like...I'm floating." His words were slow and a little slurred. "Everything feels far away."
"Perfect." I patted his hand and then placed mine on the armrest beside his. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
His hand moved slightly, and his pinky finger brushed against mine. It was such a small gesture, but it was deliberate.
He wanted to touch me.
Dr. Weismann came back in and got straight to work. The man's eyes drifted closed again, and his breathing evened out as the gas did its job.
Halfway through the procedure, his hand moved again, and this time, his fingers wrapped around mine. Not tight, just...holding.
My training kept me from pulling away, but it was more than that with Brandon. There was a spark between us that felt like it was getting stronger by the minute.
Instinctively, I squeezed his hand and kept my voice soft and steady. "You're doing great. Almost done."
His grip tightened just a fraction, and I knew he heard me.
By the time Dr. Weismann finished and started to pull off his gloves, Brandon’s face was peaceful, and I wasn’t sure if he was asleep or awake.
"All done." Dr. Weismann patted his shoulder to get his attention. "You did great, young man. Sebastian will get you all set with aftercare instructions, and we'll see you back in a few days for a follow-up."
I turned off the gas and went to full oxygen flowing through his mask. "Hey, big guy. You still with me?"
Brandon’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at me with a dopey smile. "Yeah. I'm good."
"Good." I squeezed his hand one more time before letting go. "You were amazing. I'm so proud of you."
His smile widened, and he let out a little laugh. "You're proud of me, huh? Why? For not shitting myself?"
I laughed and removed the mask. "For being a brave boy."
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m no boy, Sebastian.”
Now it was my turn to stop breathing as I just stared at him. “No. No, you’re not." I squeezed his forearm and excused myself to catch my breath. Damn, what was wrong with me? I’d never been so unprofessional with a patient before.
A few minutes later, I went back to make sure Brandon was steady before I let him leave. "I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you, but you can call us if you have any issues. Day or night.”
As I walked him to the front desk, I couldn't stop thinking about the way his hand felt over mine. It was nice. He’d trusted me to be there for him, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had an interaction like that with an adult. Especially an adult like Brandon.
Maybe it was just the nitrous at work that made him look at me like I mattered.
Then again, maybe it wasn't.