Rage With Benefits

Bonus: The Case of the Missing Nose

The one where Ian gets his wisdom tooth removed

"Why can't I just leave it?"

Bryce sighed for what seemed to be the thousandth time, earning himself a grumble of annoyance in return. Ian scowled, but the blond paid no mind as he pulled his boyfriend's chair toward him. Chuckling at Ian's reluctance to glance his way, Bryce playfully flicked the brunet's forehead before crossing his arms.

"What if I shot you?"

"What?"

"What if I shot you and told you to just leave the bullet be?"

Ian gave him a dead look. "That is not the same thing."

"Maybe..." the blond shrugged. "But-"

"Bryce, have you seen the size of the needles they use for anesthesia?! Not to mention the stuff they use for extraction?" Ian reasoned out, face crumpled in terror as flashes of a Youtube video he watched last night occurred before him. "I'm not letting that hellspawn anywhere near my mouth."

Bryce snickered. "Last time I checked, you didn't have a problem with big things going in your mouth."

Ian glared, not in the least amused while Bryce all but laughed to his face. "Not the time."

"Let's go," Bryce stood up, tugging on Ian's wrist who was still unwilling to go. "If it makes you feel any better, I promise I'm not leaving the clinic until the procedure is done."

Ian responded, face blank and voice monotonous.

"That means nothing to me."

When they arrived at the clinic, not a lot of people were waiting in line; which was a good thing for Bryce 'cause he didn't have to deal with the traffic if they had to wait for a few more hours. For Ian however, this may as well have been the worst thing that could happen today, because it means he's going to get his procedure earlier than expected.

That is if by some miracle Dr. Morgan slips and cracks his neck on impact.

"Adrian Norris?" the receptionist called, sending a shiver down Ian's spine.

Hearing his boyfriend's name, Bryce jerked in his sleep, his snore cut short as he startled awake while Ian made his way to the front desk. The doctor's assistant was a middle-aged woman, probably in her 50s. Ian thinks they're supposed to call her Meg judging by her name tag.

"Yeah, that's me," he smiled politely, trying to not think about the fact that there's 1 in 365,000 chance that he'll die in surgery (and he doesn't care if Bryce tells him that that's basically 0 percent again, the fact of the matter is that it's possible). Ian pointed behind him as he spoke. "Hey, if I die on the table can you tell this man, 'I told you so' on my behalf?"

Bryce shook his head at the receptionist, feigning exhaustion while Meg let out a soft chuckle, one so gentle that Ian was almost convinced that everything's gonna be alright. Almost.

"I've worked with Dr. Morgan for 7 years, I'm sure everything will be fine, dear," she assured, her words directed to them both.

Ian eventually gave up and decided to sink into his boyfriend's arm while they waited for Dr. Morgan to let the current patient out. They stood quietly by Meg's desk up until Bryce sensed Ian's discomfort, pushing him to break the silence.

"Feeling nervous?" he asked.

"Doctor Lee is about to drill a hole in my mouth, Bryce and unless they're digging for gold, yes, I'm pretty much nervous," the brunet muttered, and if it wasn't for the adorable puff of his cheeks, he would've successfully dragged Bryce into his personal paranoia pit.