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When Tang Bo asked Chung Myung when was the last time he had a full-body check up he thought that he was making fun of him.
Unfortunately, that was far from the truth, as that bastard is currently trying to take off his robes to make sure that his body was in tip-top shape.
'Healthy? Healthy?! ' Chung Myung’s mind screamed, 'I'm not just healthy, you bastard, I'm the epitome of health! What in the nine hells does a poison loving Tang know about health? Is he trying to get a peek at him after training- the perverted little-'
His internal monologue was abruptly cut short as Tang Bo’s nimble fingers, far too experienced in the arts of poisons and daggers and undressing unwilling subjects slung Chung Myung's robe off his shoulders. Chung Myung flinched, swatting at the offending hands, but Tang Bo merely sidestepped with infuriating grace, a small knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Ah! Hyung why are acting like I'm trying to kill you?" Tang Bo scowled, "Just a quick look-see. Don't want all that pent-up Qi to explode, do we? Or worse, your liver."
"My liver is fine!" Chung Myung responded, although his liver would like to have a say in this. He was trying to keep his diginity ,feeling ridiculously exposed despite the heavy, ornate privacy screens that made up Tang Bo’s personal medical hall.
Chung Myung shuffled his feet, his arms crossed defensively over his bandaged chest. "I don't need this!! I'm fine!"
Tang Bo was however unmoved. He simply gestured to the pristine, green-sheeted bed in the corner of the room "Will you just sit down Hyung? It's going to make work easier for the both of us."
Chung Myung let out a noise which sounded like it came from a disgruntled tiger. He glared at the bed, then at Tang Bo, then back at the bed. With another frustrated huff, he walked over, and plopped himself down with an unnecessary amount of force that made the wood creak.
"Fine ugh, do your little examination," he sighed, glaring up at Tang Bo, who now stood over him with a knowing smile still playing on his lips.
Tang Bo merely leaned in slightly, "Excellent. Now, open wide, and stick out your tongue."
Chung Myung's foot shot out, aiming squarely for Tang Bo's knee. A solid thud echoed in the room, but Tang Bo had already shifted his weight, absorbing the blow with barely a flinch. It wouldn't be the first time this happened.
"Dosahyung-nim, really," Tang Bo sighed, as if explaining basic etiquette to a particularly unruly child. "The face especially the tongue, is a window to the body's internal workings. " He tried to explain, "Though, given your current... spirited disposition, I'm already leaning towards a severe case of misplaced aggression."
Chung Myung finally relented, not finding another comment to throw back. He leaned back slightly and slowly opened his mouth. His tongue, pink and surprisingly healthy despite its owner's lifestyle choices poked out.
Tang Bo leaned in closer, his eyes, carefully scanned the surface of Chung Myung's tongue- the color, its coating, the subtle network of veins beneath. Perhaps Tang Bo wasn't just being a perverted bastard after all. Maybe he genuinely was concerned, maybe he'd noticed something about Chung Myung and just wanted to ensure that he was truly fine.
"Hmm," Tang Bo murmured, straightening up slightly, a small, satisfied nod. "Looks fine, normal color and sheen. Your liver lives to see another day." The familiar glint returned to his eyes, shattering Chung Myung's brief illusion of medical professionalism.
Just as Chung Myung was about to say something about his perfectly fine liver, Tang Bo's hands moved They they came down on either side of Chung Myung's neck. His thumbs found the hollows just beneath Chung Myung's jaw, while his index and middle fingers pressed firmly, against the throbbing pulse point of his carotid artery.
"Breathe normally, Hyung," Tang Bo instructed.
Chung Myung found himself involuntarily obeying, his breath evening out in a calming rhythm.
After what felt like an eternity, but was likely no more than a minute, Tang Bo finally withdrew his hands. He straightened up, a faint, almost imperceptible nod of approval. "Pulse is strong, steady. No unusual vibrations or blockages.."
Chung Myung let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a small, frustrated huff escaping his lips.
Tang Bo merely smiled, and his gaze dropped, lingering on the thick, somewhat stained bandages wrapped tightly around Chung Myung's chest. Without waiting for permission, his hands lowered and took off the bandages.
He knew the wounds weren't severe, just persistent. A few deep gouges from some particularly sharp daggers and a couple of nasty burns from an accident. They weren't life-threatening, but they still wept and tore open sometimes, especially during training.
As the final layer of bandage peeled away, revealing the pale, scarred skin beneath, pink lines scattered randomly where the bandage was wrapped tightest, Tang Bo's expression softened slightly. He gently traced a fingertip over a jagged scar near Chung Myung’s sternum. "Have these been making your chest uncomfortable, Hyung? Causing any itching or chafing?"
Chung Myung shifted, feeling a sudden vulnerability with his chest exposed to Tang Bo’s eyes. "Annoyingly itchy sometimes," he admitted, his voice a low grumble. "And whenever the bandages off, my robes are uncomfortable. "
Tang Bo hummed , his eyes still scanning the healing, yet still visible wounds. Then, without another word, his hands moved again, settling on Chung Myung’s shoulders. His thumbs pressed into the tense muscles at the base of Chung Myung's neck, while his fingers splayed across the broad, powerful expanse of his deltoids.
"Do your shoulders feel any heavier when you swing your sword, Hyung?" Tang Bo's voice was a low murmur, his gaze fixed on the subtle flex and release of muscle beneath his fingertips. "Any stiffness or reduced range of motion you're ignoring?"
Chung Myung, caught amidst questioning, found himself shaking his head. "No, feels fine," he grumbled, though a flicker of unease crossed his face.
Tang Bo gave a soft knowing chuckle, a sound that grated on Chung Myung’s nerves.
"Let's see about that." His fingers began to knead the thick cords of muscle, tracing the powerful curve of Chung Myung’s deltoids down to his biceps. He paused, his touch lingering on the bulging peak of one arm, then the other, assessing the tautness and the subtle vibrations of the Qi coiled within. His thumbs then found the hollow of the brachial pulse point, pressing gently, feeling for the steady rhythm of life pumping through. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, concentrating, then released, a faint smile playing on his lips.
His hands slid down from the biceps, tracing roped muscles of Chung Myung’s forearms. He felt the sinews tighten and release under his touch, the resilient give of skin stretched over bone and honed muscle. He paused at the wrist, his fingers encircling the joint, feeling the subtle movement as he rotated it gently, testing its flexibility.
His thumbs moved lower and brushed over the prominent veins, his touch drifting over the back of Chung Myung’s hand.
Tang Bo's fingertips danced over the countless small hard calluses caused by the hilt of the sword. He traced a thin, almost invisible scar near the knuckle of the index finger.
"Good, good. No unusual heat or swelling in the joints, and your circulation is still robust, despite your best efforts to poison it with liquor." Tang Bo straightened up slightly, his eyes, dark and assessing, now sweeping lower, past Chung Myung’s waist.
"Now, for the final, and arguably most important, part of the examination. I need to feel your abdomen, Hyung." He paused, a wicked glint entering his eyes. "So, you can just... remain in your pants. Oh and lay down."
"Do you really have to? Just what did I do to worry you so much, huh?!"
"Hyung, please. It's a fullbody examination," Tang Bo stated, his tone calm, . "Your internal organs, your core strength, the integrity of your abdominal wall- are all very crucial! And besides," he leaned in "you're already half-naked. What's a little more? It's not the first time you get undressed for me."
With a last sigh, Chung Myung slowly pushed himself up and began to unfasten his robes, letting them fall next to him on the bed. He then lay on the pristine, green-sheeted bed, his bare chest rising and falling with his ragged breaths, his eyes glaring daggers at Tang Bo.
Tang Bo’s smile was triumphant, though he kept it subtle. Without another word, his hands, warm and oddly comforting, settled gently on Chung Myung’s chest, just above his sternum, his fingers splayed wide.
His touch was light at first, exploring the contours of Chung Myung's upper torso. Then his palms began their descent, gliding over the taut skin of Chung Myung’s ribs and down towards the expanse of his abdomen. Chung Myung felt a tremor, not entirely of annoyance, ripple through him as those skilled hands reached his diaphragm.
Chung Myung felt a distinct pressure deep within his core as Tang Bo's fingers located and gently compressed the pulsating rhythm of his aorta, feeling powerful Qi flowing through him. Then with a slight shift his touch moved laterally, seeking out the more elusive pulse of the renal arteries. Surely enough, Tang Bo was a physician, yet his touch was filled with an underlying intimacy that made Chung Myung’s stomach clench.
His hands didn't linger there. They spread wider, his palms flattening against the sculpted forms of Chung Myung's abdominal muscles, tracing the firm lines of his abs, feeling the subtle tension and release with each shallow breath.
He moved lower, his touch becoming bolder, venturing beneath the dip of Chung Myung’s navel, exploring the soft skin of his lower belly. Chung Myung’s breath hitched lightly.
Then, Tang Bo’s palm pressed down harder just above Chung Myung’s pelvis, his fingers dipping even lower, brushing against the top edge of his pants.
"Feel anything here, Dosahyung-nim?" he murmured, his gaze fixed on Chung Myung’s face, searching for a reaction.
Chung Myung’s eyes narrowed, a flush creeping up his neck. "Just you messing around, you damn bastard! Stop it!" he grumbled, trying to shift, but Tang Bo’s hand remained firmly in place.
A soft chuckle rumbled in Tang Bo’s chest. His fingers remained exactly where they were.
"Ah, but I’m not messing around, Hyung. This is crucial for assessing your.. lower core strength. And for that," he paused, his eyes, dark and gleaming with mischief, met Chung Myung’s defiant glare, "I’m afraid we’ll need to take those pants off."
"I knew it," Chung Myung said, "I knew this was where you were going with this. Couldn't just say it like a normal person, could you? No, it has to be a 'medical examination' and 'core strength' and all this other bullshit!" He glared, but the fire in his eyes was losing its heat, replaced by a dying resignation. "Fine! But if I'm going to suffer this indignity, I expect compensation. A proper dinner tonight. The spiciest, most numbing, gut-wrenching meal you can possibly find."
"A proper dinner? For the privilege of ensuring your peak physical condition? A bargain, Hyung! Consider it done. The spicier, the better." He leaned back slightly, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Now, about those pants..."
With another sigh that seemed to drain the last vestiges of fight from his lean frame, Chung Myung pushed himself up just enough to reach for the waistband of his cotton pants.
The fabric slid down, pooling around his hips, revealing the lean, toned expanse of his lower abdomen and the firm curve of his buttocks. He lay back down, a flush creeping from his neck to his ears, his gaze fixed determinedly on the ceiling, refusing to meet Tang Bo's eyes.
Tang Bo, however, made no move to rush. His gaze lingered, appreciative, before he straightened and turned, reaching for a small, dark glass bottle perched innocently on the bedside desk. He uncorked it with a soft pop, the faint, earthy scent of oil wafting through the air.
Tang Bo poured a few drops of the oil onto his fingertips and rubbing them together. His eyes, still sparkling with that unrepentant mischief, met Chung Myung’s for a fleeting second, who seemed rather shy about it.
"And for true overall health, Hyung-nim," he cleared his throat, "one must not neglect their inner workings!"
Chung Myung's jaw tightened, but he remained silent, a low growl barely audible in his throat. He watched as Tang Bo's now-oiled fingers descended, not quite touching his bare thighs, but hovering with anticipation.
Then,his fingers brushed against the soft skin of Chung Myung’s inner thigh, tracing a path inward.
A shiver snaked down Chung Myung’s spine as Tang Bo’s fingertips, slick with oil, found the sensitive crease where his glutes met his thighs, then moved further, gently tracing the rim of his ass.
There was a moment of silence and then the first finger slid inside. Chung Myung’s felt a distinct familiar fullness, really, Tang Bo loved to mess with him.
Tang Bo didn't speak. His green eyes remained fixed on Chung Myung's face, checking out every subtle shift in expression and flicker of emotion. Chung Myung felt it stretch and press deep within him. Then, a sudden intense pressure, as Tang Bo touched the bundle of nerves, the sensitive, swollen gland.
Tang Bo’s finger paused, then began to circle a slow massage against the prostate. A low involuntary moan escaped Chung Myung’s lips. He bit down hard, tasting blood, desperate to suppress any further sound.
"It's normal to let it out Hyung," Tang Bo told him as the Taoist's hand shot out, blindly grasping at the nearest thing, his fingers closing around Tang Bo's sleeve, clutching the silk fabric. Trying his best to not just rip it off.
Without breaking eye contact, Tang Bo added a second finger, easing it past the first. The feeling of fullness intensified, becoming a delicious stretch, as the two fingers worked in tandem.
They pressed, they curled and they circled rhythmically, insistently against that sensitive spot, coaxing out responses from Chung Myung. His hips twitched almost imperceptibly.
Tang Bo’s eyes, still locked on Chung Myung’s face, held a knowing glint. "See, Hyung? It feels good because you’re healthy. Your body is responding exactly as it should to proper stimulation."
Chung Myung let out a ragged breath, the sound catching in his throat "Ugh, it feels different than usual."
"Ah, yes! Because I'm focusing on your prostate, Hyung-nim. Usually I just stretch you and don't focus on the actual pleasure with my fingers." His fingers, already deep within, seemed to press a little harder, a little more deliberately, sending a fresh wave of sensation through Chung Myung’s core.
Tang Bo leaned in closer, his breath warm against Chung Myung’s ear "If you let me, Hyung," he whispered, "I can show you that you can come just from this."
A weak and unconvincing scoff escaped Chung Myung’s lips. "Don’t be ridiculous."
Tang Bo pulled back slightly, tilting his head just so, his green eyes wide and innocent, like a particularly mischievous puppy. He knew that look always got to Chung Myung.
Chung Myung groaned, a sound of utter defeat, "No, uh, fine," he bit out, his jaw clenched, "If you so pride yourself."
Tang Bo’s triumphant smile returned, brighter than before "You really don't belive me, Hyung-nim!?" he asked, seemingly hurt. "Just relax. Let me do all the work."
And he did. His fingers, already slick with oil, began to move with a renewed vigor. The rhythmic pressure against Chung Myung’s prostate intensified, becoming faster and more insistent. The two fingers worked in a dizzying match, pressing and curling, each movement meaning to bring something out of Chung Myung.
Chung Myung’s breath hitched, a strangled sound caught in his throat as a fresh wave of heat washed over him. His hips lifted a fraction of an inch from the cool sheets.
Then, with a deliberate, almost cruelly slow motion, Tang Bo eased a third finger into Chung Myung.
His cock already thick and heavy twitched lightly against his lower abdomen. A sticky sheen of precum, already glistening on his perfect muscles, now beaded and dripped from the tip. It begged for a touch that Tang Bo continued to deny.
The three fingers pressed deeper, curled around the prostate, teasing, milking, pushing Chung Myung to the very brink of his control. Chung Myung let out a choked "Fuck, Bo-yah! You-!" But he couldn't finish the sentence, the words dissolving into a desperate gasp as another wave of pleasure crashed over him.
"No..this isn't professional at all!" Chung Myung complained, even as his hips began to buck almost imperceptibly against the bed.
Tang Bo chuckled, "Ah, but I am the physician, Hyung-nim. And I assure you, I know better than anyone what constitutes proper treatment for overall well-being. Especially for you!" His fingers deepened their assault, finding a new angle, a new pressure point that sent a jolt straight through Chung Myung’s core and made his mind dizzy.
A shiver ran through Chung Myung’s body, his thick thighs beginning to tremble lightly, clearly ,Tang Bo made a great work at wrecking his senses. The skills that should've been used on treating Chung Myung's ailments were used against him too! Damn this bastard.
Chung Myung’s breath became a series of short, sharp gasps and his body arching violently against the cool sheets. His thighs clamped together, trying to deny Tang Bo anymore of a view.
Then, with a final, desperate groan he came. His cock twitched and then, a thick rope of cum painted a white streak across the taut muscles of his lower abdomen.
Chung Myung collapsed back onto the sheets, trembling from head to toe, utterly spent. His chest heaved, his eyes wide and unfocused, staring up at the ceiling as if he’d just witnessed enlightenment. He tried to speak, but only ragged breaths escaping his lips. In a deep sense of shock, mingled with an almost terrifying realisation washed over him. He'd never... he'd never come like that before. Never without touching himself.
Tang Bo with his fingers now withdrawn, left behind a lingering ache, watched the aftermath of his handiwork with a pleased smile. A flicker of triumph danced in his green eyes. He carefully wiped his slick fingers on a nearby cloth, then leaned down, a gentle hand coming to rest on Chung Myung’s inner thigh, stroking the sensitive skin with a tender touch.
"See, Hyung-nim?" Tang Bo whispered, his voice warm and knowing. "I told you I knew what was best for you."
Chung Myung still breathing heavily finally managed to push himself up, propping himself on his elbows. His eyes, still wide and slightly unfocused, drifted from the ceiling to Tang Bo’s smug face. A flush, deeper than anything Tang Bo’s hands had caused, spread across his cheeks. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.
"Ugh, am I free to get dressed now?" he croaked, the words barely a whisper, laced with a desperate need for this surreal experience to be done.
Tang Bo leaned closer, his fingers still stroking Chung Myung’s inner thigh, "Ah, for now, Hyung-nim, yes. This particular segment is complete. But I do believe we'll need another, very thorough examination soon." He paused, his gaze dropping to Chung Myung’s still-trembling body, then back up to his dazed eyes. "I'm rather curious about what else you can do." His smile turned into a predatory smirk, promising delights and torments yet to come.
Chung Myung scoffed and grabbed Tang Bo's hair to shake his head around lightly.
"Also be careful, your legs might feel a little weaker for a moment!"