The day Michael came back, Ben had a dental appointment. He'd come home late and a little irritable; his old dentist had moved to New England, and the woman he was seeing now wore a double-layered mask and two gloves on each hand, and avoided touching him with anything but a sterilized metal tool.
"I swear, she thought twice about shaking my hand." he breathed. Michael frowned in sympathy and murmured, "Ignorant snot." Ben shook his head and laughed and asked about the camping trip.
Both men were tired, and it was late. Michael was ready to sleep in a real bed and Ben was ready to sleep next to the warm weight he'd been missing the last two nights.
So Michael took a long shower, during which he brushed his teeth with scouring, pleasant vigor for almost five minutes. He turned the pressure of the shower head up all the way and let himself burn up in it, hard, red heat and clean. He barely noticed the slight nipping sting of the brush bristles against his gums, and he didn't see the subtle tinge of pink when he spit, or on the toothbrush.
While Michael showered, Ben stood at the sink and tugged open the crinkling plastic package on the new toothbrush he'd received from the hypochondriac dentist. He cringed slightly at the stiff sharpness of the new bristles, but he scrubbed hard, thinking about dirt that you can't remove, dirty filth that lives in your blood and the people who are allowed to look right through you.
Michael stepped out of the shower, skin pink and warm. Ben leaned his head down into the sink, turning on the tap to wash out his mouth. Michael watched as a thin stream of cool water ran down his jaw line and onto his neck. He leaned back up and smiled at Michael, eyes shinning. Michael exhaled loudly.
"Christ, what are you trying to do to me. I'm tired."
"I wasn't trying to start anything."
"You're always trying to start something. Let's go to bed."
Ben laughed. "Okay."
They both exited into the bedroom and Michael slipped on a pair of sleep pants and crawled into bed, hugging the pillow and sighing.
"You'll never appreciate this bed until you've slept with a tree stump under your head and a rock up your ass."
Ben laughed and climbed in after him. "I've got no witty repartee tonight, my love." he breathed in Michael's ear.
"It's okay." Michael promised. He turned and looked over his shoulder into Ben's face.
Michael kissed him once, quick and dry on the lips. Ben pushed forward and kissed Michael again, and this time his mouth opened, and between two pairs of perfectly clean, white enamel and hot textured flesh, filthy, secret blood from raw gums mixed with saliva. Michael's mouth opened accommodatingly and felt the new heat and soft, slippery damp of Ben's mouth.
Such are the tiny, evil unfairnesses of life.