About drunken thoughts and actions

Frankly speaking, the place between his hyung's legs was the best place Tang Bo had been. Between his hyung's legs with his hyung's cock in his mouth was definitely the best place he had ever been. Tang Bo wasn't sure how he'd gotten here, and blamed it on that last jug of wine, which was clearly unnecessary, but he'd be damned if he'd forget that delightful moment in the morning. Tang Bo hasn't often had to please men in his life, maybe two or three times, he favored women more (because there is no man who is even remotely like a hyung so he can fake it), but he doesn't consider himself a know-it-all either. He approaches it clinically and persistently, as he does everything in his life where he lacks talent — he replaces it with hard work. Sure, he'd seen his hyung unclothed by the rivers a couple times (and nearly passed out from the sight) when the nearest town was a whole relief away and they should have washed up here and now, but, well... nature hadn't deprived his hyung of anything, and Tang Bo could feel his drunken mind melting at how much he'd have to do to be able to swallow that cock whole. He tried, twice, thrice — nearly choking on a gag reflex he ignored with the tenacity of a warrior. He thought about how to solve the problem, sucking on the other man's head, sighing noisily through his nose, and lazily moving his tongue over the pleasant-tasting flesh. Oddly enough, it tasted like the plum wine they'd been drinking, only with a dash of salinity from sweat and skin. His hyung is simply made of plums, which is absurd at times. Tang Bo was just thinking about trying to relax his own treacherous throat some more when he heard the hoarsest version of hyung's voice above him that he had ever heard: "Hey, brat..." and Tang Bo looks up, his hyung was less drunk than himself, but for some reason his face was as red or even redder than Tang Bo's own, let the other man try to cover the lower part of his face with his hand; his hyung looks away when their gazes meet, and Tang Bo hears a loud crack from one side; he doesn't let his hyung's cock out of his mouth and only leans slightly in the direction of the crack. Oh, his hyung clenched his fist so hard it broke the floorboards. Tang Bo hums thoughtfully, causing his hyung's hand to shake slightly in its place, and relaxes and sucks the other man's cock, moving as far as he can, relaxing his throat again. He doesn't rest his nose against hyung's groin, and it upsets him; he's pretty sure even that stiff hair smells partly of plums. It makes him chuckle slightly, making a vibration go all the way down his throat. "Fuck", pronounces the hyung above him, and it takes Tang Bo a second too long to realize why his hyung is reacting this way. Again, Tang Bo will blame it on the wine; if it weren't for the alcohol, he'd be directly aroused himself. He's partly surprised that hyung keeps his hands to himself because, Tang Bo thinks, with a little more strength and at the cost of a damaged throat, he could have taken more (he shouldn't be so turned on by the thought of being used and discarded by hyung, but he is), when he remembers that perhaps he should be a little more active instead of wondering how he should relax his muscles to take his hyung's cock fully. Like he's going to get a second try, huh. He's moving, swaying back and forth, and it's so light from the amount of saliva he's left behind, which is dripping wetly down his chin, though Tang Bo feels as hungry as he's ever been. Hyung breathes noisily and more often above him, though still looking anywhere but at him for some reason. Part of it frustrates him; he loves hyung's eyes, and he'd like to see them. To his surprise, it didn't take long for him to simultaneously hear another creaky crack of wood with hyung's interrupted sigh, smell the blood from hyung's hand pierced by splinters of wood that he would need to treat later, and feel the warm semen that he tried to swallow whole, though it trickled down his lips, down his chin. Tang Bo licked his lips as he straightened in his seat, and hyung seemed even redder than before, turning away from him into the wall with a strange expression on his face that the now sober morning Tang Bo would have to deal with. "Thank you", says Tang Bo, a little sleepy and groggy, "I'm not hungry anymore", he remarks, and his hyung turns to him with the most charming combination of indignation with embarrassment. "You!—" and it's so strange to see hyung, who can't find the right words, abruptly fuming back. "You don't!—You just don't!—" Tang Bo loves him too, of course.