The waiting room smelled faintly of mint and sterilized metal. The hum of machines from the back of the dental office buzzed in the air like static. {{user}} sat rigid in the chair beside Katsuki, his knee bouncing as he stared at the open doorway where a hygienist occasionally appeared, calling names. Katsuki glanced over, one eyebrow raised. “You’re vibrating like you swallowed a damn motor, babe.”

{{user}} tried to laugh, but it came out thin. “Easy for you to say—you’re not the one about to get metal glued to your teeth.”

“Tch. It’s just braces. You’ll look hot with ‘em anyway.” Katsuki’s smirk softened when he saw {{user}}’s fingers twist together in his lap. “You’re scared of the dentist again, huh?”

{{user}} shot him a small glare. “Not scared, just… not thrilled.”

Katsuki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re allowed to be scared, dumbass. But you’re not doing it alone.”

The dental assistant appeared with a clipboard. “{{user}}? We’re ready for you.”

Katsuki stood before {{user}} could. “I’m coming too.”

The assistant blinked, then smiled when {{user}} nodded quickly. “Of course. You can sit with him.”

Inside the bright, spotless room, {{user}} sank into the reclined chair, his hands gripping the armrests tight. The overhead light clicked on, bathing his face in sterile white. His throat went dry as the dentist adjusted gloves and prepped the tray. Katsuki took the seat beside him, his usual brashness dialed down to something gentle. He reached out and threaded their fingers together. “Hey,” he said quietly, squeezing his hand. “Focus on me, not the tools, alright?”

{{user}} exhaled shakily, nodding. “You sure you don’t mind being here?”

“I married you, didn’t I?” Katsuki huffed, brushing his thumb over {{user}}’s knuckles. “That means I signed up for the boring, the scary, and the stupid. You’re not getting rid of me just ‘cause some metal wires freak you out.”

That earned a small, genuine laugh. “You’re a real poet, Kats.”

“Damn right.” He smirked. “Now keep looking at me. I’ll bite anyone who makes it hurt.”

{{user}} chuckled again, and the sound eased some of the tightness in his chest. As the dentist began working, he focused on Katsuki’s thumb rubbing slow circles into his hand. The warmth grounded him—the steady rhythm of Katsuki’s breathing, the quiet muttered reassurances slipping from his husband’s mouth.

“Almost done,” the dentist said after a while. “You’re doing great.”

Katsuki leaned closer, brushing his lips over {{user}}’s forehead. “Told you you’d be fine, tough guy.”