Mean ler!Ryland Grace uses you as a teaching moment. Very very tummy focused I was in a mood.
This is it for you. You’re sure of it. It won’t be the end of the mission that kills you, or an alien, or even just natural causes if you do manage to make it back home. It will be Dr. Ryland Grace. A man who, up to this very point, you had considered your friend.
You don’t remember how you even ended up in this position, pinned down on the floor in the lab, or why you ended up in this position in the first place! Usually, it can be accredited to a smart-ass remark you let slip before you could catch yourself, or an eye roll that was much more noticeable than you meant for it be. This time, you’re pretty sure he’s just tormenting you because he feels like it.
Somehow, he’s managed to pin you flat on your spine, and his back is turned as he sits beside you, partially leaned across your chest. All you can do is push at his back and shoulders while he kneads all around your belly and sides, occasionally trailing down just a bit to slot his thumbs into the dips of your hips and squeeze.
He had made a big show of ever so slowly pulling your shirt up just below your ribs, and then reaching down to pull the waistband of your pajama bottoms down just far enough to expose your hips and lower belly before he got started- which seems like forever ago to you right now.
Not that you’ve really been able to keep track of the time, but you’ve taken several minutes of this already, with a couple of small “breaks” that consisted of him lightly trailing his fingertips over your flushed skin.
What had been threats and swears have since turned into nearly incoherent pleading and pitiful giggles. He’s talking. You know he is, he has been this entire time— teasing you when you let out a particularly cute noise, or commenting on how adorable it is that you’re kicking and squirming like it’s actually going to help somehow— but you can’t hear him over yourself. What little you can hear doesn’t register.
The only thing you’re absolutely sure of right now is that he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done this to you— just held you down and played with you until he decides he’s done. He has, on several occasions, told you that he’s pretty sure they just sent you up here as his stress toy- only jokingly of course, though it being a joke doesn’t stop it from flustering you beyond belief.
This time around though, he doesn’t account for visitors, and when he brings his hands to the center of your belly, one clawing at the plush spot below your navel while the other spiders above it, the shrill squeal it draws out evidently catches the attention of a concerned bystander.
You don’t hear the rumbling noise of Rocky’s ball rolling towards the two of you, and you don’t register his voice when he starts squawking at Ryland about your predicament. Everything is fuzzy, and you shudder as you try to blink through the brain fog.
It takes you several seconds to realize that you can breathe, and you seemingly have a moment of reprieve as Ryland tries to calm Rocky down.
When you do manage to get your bearings, you see Rocky shifting from leg to leg and waving his arms wildly at Ryland before he notices that you’re alert, and he very quickly rolls his way beside your head.
“Friend okay, question?”, he asks, his voice high pitched as he taps on his ball, “Breathing okay, question?”. He rattles off several other questions but all you can manage out is a weak “uh huh” and a thumbs up as your chest heaves.
“See, Rock?”, Ryland starts, “They’re perfectly fine. I told you they’re not dying.”
You would have objected to that if you weren’t still in such a compromising position.
“Everything’s okay. It’s just tickling.”
You huff, bringing your hands up to cover your red face as Rocky lets out an inquisitive chirp and rolls back over to Grace.
“Tickling, question?”, he murmurs. You groan, "Rocky please-"
Ryland sighs, waving you and nodding at the alien. He should have known Rocky wouldn’t really know what it is. Even if they have something similar on Erid, it almost definitely would look much different for them.
“Yes, tickling. Think of it like… like- uh, playing, I guess. Most humans are ticklish, which means parts of their body are sensitive to touch— particularly areas that cover vital organs, or spots that aren’t typically exposed to touch.”
“Hmmm…”, Rocky hums, “Why?”
There’s a pause, save for the muffled sound of you grumbling at Ryland to "please stop talking".
“Well, um, I guess it’s like a defense mechanism. To protect those spots. When you touch them in certain ways- like squeezing or poking, that’s what we call tickling, and it makes humans laugh”, he glances back at you, the corner of his lip tilting upwards ever so slightly before he looks back at Rocky, “Or in some cases, squeal. Or beg.”
You turn your head, refusing to look at Ryland out of pettiness and also the sake of your own dignity. Actually, it’s primarily for the sake of your own dignity.! Rocky seems to understand, as well as he can at least, and the brief silence that hangs in the air makes your stomach twist before the both of them speak at the same time. "Show Rocky." "Would you like a demonstration?" You knew it was coming, and still your breath hitches as you twist in Ryland's grip, but you're just as stuck as you were before. The noise you let out can only be described as a whimper, but it's immediately interrupted by a loud squeal when you feel his fingertips trail gently up and down the sides of your belly. "Nononono, Ryland, please-!", you babble out, trying to pull your knees to your chest in a desperate attempt to protect yourself, but you're ignored as Grace pushes them right back down and starts to explain your reaction to Rocky. "Usually, they wouldn't react like that right away, but the longer you tickle someone, the more sensitive those spots get. You can't see this, but this skin right here is already really red." Rocky bounces up and down a bit, paying close attention to Grace's hands, "Red. Why red, question?" You tremble when his hands trail further up, closer to your ribs, just to trail all the way down to your hips. You're in a constant fit of giggles. You know it’s only going to get worse, and the anticipation is driving you mad, but you can tolerate this much better than what he was putting you through just a few minutes ago. "Two reasons, actually. Humans turn red when they're flustered but the tickling itself stimulates blood flow, especially if I were to be just a little bit meaner," your eyes widen, and you shake your head, "like this". You try to arch your back when light tracing turns to quick clawing, but he has a firm hold on you. "You hear that?", he asks when bubbly giggles turn to desperate laughter. "That's because there are different ways to tickle people. Different spots and methods get different reactions." He brings his hands down, squeezing rapidly at your hipbones before he squeezes all the way up your sides to your ribs, and then back down again. You kick uselessly, shaking your head and pleading through cackles, which only encourages him. Rocky can't help but feel just a little bad for you as he rolls over to watch you a little more closely, "Why telling Grace to stop if it's just play, question?" "Because I don't like it!", you whine. You can see Ryland's shoulders shake a bit as he laughs at that. Rocky perks up, slightly concerned as he rolls back over to look at your captor, who speaks before Rocky has a chance to voice his worries. "They're a liar." The way he says it so matter-of-factly would be insulting if it wasn't true. "Most people don't like being tickled. It doesn't really feel... good", he circles his nails around your navel while the other claws at your lower belly. "Think about if you had a really bad itch, and you can't scratch it, and the longer you go without scratching it, the more intense it gets. And maybe it starts in one spot, but it can spread all over your body, and you can't do anything to stop it. That's what tickling feels like." Rocky shifts left to right at the description of it, and it only makes him feel a little worse for you in that moment. "Your friend over here, though...", Ryland starts, and you're so glad you can't see his face because you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. "Well, they love it. They will absolutely never, ever admit that for two reasons. One, they're all embarrassed about it because they think it's weird, blah blah blah", he rolls his eyes. "Two, I would literally never let them live that down, like ever." "Hmm," Rocky hums before letting out a soft trill, "Why ask Grace to stop if they like it, question?" You so desperately want to tell Rocky to please stop asking questions, but you're certain that's much too long of a sentence to get out coherently, and you’re far past the point of intelligible speech.
Grace is thrilled. He gets to do his two very favorite things: bestow knowledge upon an eager to learn mind, and tickle you out of yours.
“Well, it’s an instinct, and human instincts can be weird. Tickling is a really overwhelming sensation, even for someone who likes it. So, they’ll try to make it stop— or, beg for it to stop if they’re otherwise incapacitated.”
As if on queue, you let out a weak, pitiful “please” when he vibrates five fingers in the very center of your belly.
“See, I’m being very, very nice. No matter how much they beg, or squirm, or ask me so very nicely to stop, I know they don’t really wanna get away. Isn’t that right?”.
You can tell from the tone switch the last bit was meant for you— probably the first bit too— but you’re confident that he’s very aware you were not listening. You take a deep, greedy breath when tickling fingertips turn to a firm palm, rubbing soothingly against your skin.
At first, you don’t respond, but, you nod at him when he shifts to face you, still leaned over you with his head propped on your sternum. You have no idea what he was asking you. You don’t really care either. All you can focus on is catching your breath and behaving as well as you possibly can, even as you eye Ryland wearily.
Not that your “behavior” has ever swayed him to be nice.
Rocky rolls around to the two of you, idling at your head. You glance up at him for just a moment, a small smile still on playing at your lips as your breath finally evens out. You hadn’t noticed you were still giggling, and fortunately, neither of them comment on it.
“You got any other questions, bud?”, Grace asks Rocky, but his eyes are on you, and his tone is notably softer.
You’re so relieved it’s over. You can finally let your guard down, relax, and just let Grace take care of you.
And then, Rocky lets out a small chirp, just as you close your eyes and let your head lull to the side.
“Grace said other spots are ticklish too, question?”
Your eyes widen instantly, only for you to be met with the devious grin growing on Ryland’s face.
You should have known Rocky would have more questions, and Ryland definitely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to torment you in the name of education.
You whimper, giving him an absolutely pitiful little look, but before you can protest, he’s already positioned above your head, pulling your arms up and pinning them under his legs.
“Rocky, bud, I know I’ve already said this but I think you and I are going to get along perfectly.”
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Don’t hate me if this has some weak moments or typos, this idea struck me like a premonition to a prophet and I rushed to tell the masses.
this is awakening me
