AC/DC One Shots

Orthodontist (Bon X Mal)

POV Bon:

Today is the day. Malcolm's wisdom teeth are extracted. We sat together in the waiting room. I had told him it wouldn't hurt because he was going to be anesthetized, but he didn't seem right to believe me.

"Does it hurt afterwards, Bon?" He asked, holding my hand.

"Yes, Mal. It'll hurt." I said annoyed. Sometimes he was like a child.

"How much?"
"For God's sake! Mal! I dont know! Okay?" I exclaimed irritably. He was quiet now, but looked at his hands, which were resting in his lap. "Baby, I'm sorry. Come here." I hugged him tightly and he whimpered into my shoulder. Now he couldn't keep his fingers off me. The door to the waiting room opened and a blonde nurse looked inside.

"Malcolm Young?" She asked politely. Malcolm gave me a frightened look before standing up and following her. I ran after them. Once in the treatment room, Mal had to lie down on the treatment chair. Mal looked at me nervously. The doctor explained all the work steps, but that didn't seem to calm my boyfriend down a bit, which was understandable.

"You won't feel a thing, Mr. Young. Count to ten and they'll sleep." Said the doctor encouragingly. The nurse put a mask on Malcolm and I heard him count:

"One, two ... three ..." Mal had fallen asleep.

*

When he woke up again, I sat next to him and smiled at him. The gaps between his teeth were filled with cotton wool.

"Hello, Mal." He gave me a blurry look. The anesthetic was still very effective. I handed him a small clear box. "Look, darling. These are your teeth." Malcolm looked wide-eyed at the bloody teeth in the box.

"How should I eat now?" He asked. I laughed.

"You still have teeth." Malcolm looked at the doctor.

"Fuck you! You stole my teeth!" He shouted in a blurred voice. His behavior was like a drugged man and I giggled a little.

"He helped you, Malcolm. You have to say thank you."

"Thank you." Malcolm grumbled. "Bon?"

"Mh?"

"I'm hungry."

"You can have something at home." I said.

"Chicken!" Malcolm yelled.

"No, Malcolm. You can't eat chicken. You can't eat solids for four days."

"Chicken." He whispered with watery eyes.

"No darling. No chicken." Malcolm started crying. God! Is he three years old ?! "Come on. Stop crying. You can have lots of ice cream, okay?" He looked at me interested.

"Really?"

"Yes." The doctor helped me get Malcolm into my car. It was really hard because he was like high. I sat in the driver's seat and drove off. Malcolm was moaning all the time and looking out the window.

"Boooon?" He asked.

"What is?"

"I have a gift for you."

"Really? Which one?" I asked, concentrating on the traffic.

"Give me your hand." His words were hazy. I reached out my hand and steered the other one on. Suddenly I felt something sticky, damp on the palm of my hand and looked down. Malcolm's bloody cotton ball.

"Iiiihhhh! Malcolm! That's disgusting!" I exclaimed. He looked at me sadly.

"Don't you like it?" He asked quietly.

"Of course not!" He bowed his head and I heard him whimper. "Hey. Sh. Don't cry. You have to put that back in your mouth, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because otherwise you'll bleed." He giggled.

"I'm not bleeding. Look!" He opened his mouth. The blood ran down his chin and onto his shirt. "Bon! Blood!" He shouted with wide eyes. I sighed and stopped at a rest stop. There I put the cotton ball back in his mouth. Then I restarted the engine and we drove on. Malcolm rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

"Malcolm!" He grinned at me. I closed the window and set the parental controls. Oh God. Malcolm was always so calm and serious. Now this was a very strange situation. He grinned at me and a bloody cotton ball fell out of his mouth. The wad of cotton wool landed in his lap and he looked at it. His dark hair hid his face.

"Bon! Bon! My tongue!" He exclaimed in shock.

"What about your tongue, darling?" I asked, a little concerned.

"It fell out!" He cried. I saw the cotton wool and had to laugh.

"Darling, this is not your tongue." I stroked his hair.

"Yes, it is." He cried. I took his hand and put it on his tongue.

"Do you see? It's still here. Everything is fine." I brushed away my tears. "Everything is fine." He smiled shyly at me.

"Thank you Bonny." He put his head on my shoulder. I kissed him gently and looked back down at the street. "I want chicken." He whimpered. I rolled my eyes.

"You can't have chicken." He cried again. God! This anesthetic had made him a real crybaby! "Sleep a little."

"Chicken." He whimpered.

"No. No chicken. Only in four days. Sleep, Malcolm." I was hoping he'd get the chicken out of his mind. And he fell asleep. I smiled at him.

*
After a short time I got home. Phil and Cliff helped me bring Malcolm in the house.

"How was it?" Asked Angus. I told everything and we laughed. Maybe it was just unaccustomed to Malcolm showing his feelings.
THE END;