• Roleplaying: If you want a roleplaying partner, I'm not the one for you. Sorry, but I don't roleplay.
• Teases: No, you may not tease me if we barely know each other. If we're friends, ask if you can tease me before doing so.
• Pet names: Just don't call me "cutie". I mean it.
• I try read the bio/pinned post of every blog I want to interact with before doing so, so I can check the DNI criteria, but it is possible I get ahead of myself and sometimes accidentally interact with someone I shouldn't. Sorry about that if it happens, I mean no harm and always delete the interaction (if possible) as soon as I go back and read the criteria, thank you for your patience!
~ DO NOT INTERACT/ FOLLOW IF ~
(By that I mean do not message me, send me asks/submissions, interact with my posts or follow me. In case it wasn't clear.)
• You are a pedophile/ MAP/ NOMAP.
• LBGTQIA+phobic
• Your blog contains untagged NSFW stuff. Nothing wrong with that, it's just I'll most likely look through your blog a bit if you interact with me, and there's stuff I'd rather not see if I can avoid it.
• You are a minor.
~ THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ~
• I don't want people older than 24 messaging me, unless it's for an actually important reason.
• I am ASEXUAL and SEX-REPULSED. Keep your horny crap to yourself unless you want a callout post. This is your one and only warning.
• Please don't be upset if I don't immediately respond to your messages or asks. I'm not on my phone all day, sometimes I just don't feel like socializing, and time difference is a thing.
• This is only a sideblog. Since I don't want to flood my dash with tickle stuff, I usually don't follow any tickle blogs. BUT I WANT TO. I WANT TO SO BAD. IF YOU'RE AROUND MY AGE, FOLLOW ME AND INTERACT REGULARLY WITH MY STUFF YOU SHOULD KNOW YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH MY HANDS ITCH TO FOLLOW YOU BACK.
• I rarely ever write, but here's my masterpost if you're interested in the little I've got!
That's it for now, though I might edit it later. Thank you for reading <3
So one of the parts I like about tickling sides is that no matter if your wiggling left or right you’re just going right into a hand that’s already tickling you if I’m getting both sides, but you could argue and say you could arch upwards… but that’s why I just get your tummy at that point silly
Ohhhhhhh to be tickled for a prolonged period of time. like i can’t put it any other way. to be tickled, with intent, by someone who knows what they’re doing to me, because they know i like it, until i am incapable of forming coherent thoughts… [swoons]
That's all. I'll put it on the timer here, see. Just 5 minutes of sweet tickles, you can handle that, can't you?
Arms up. So good for me, aren't you? We'll get you nicely tied down. You look so pretty like this. Here's how it's gonna go. One minute of each. Armpits. Ribs/sides. Tummy/Hips. Legs. Feet. That's all.
Now here's the catch. Eyes on me, sweetheart.
That's it. Let me see that pretty face. I want you to look at me as I tickle your pretty body. I want to watch that blush grow on your face, see how flustered you are, see how those eyes widen as you giggle and squirm under me. And I want you to see how much I enjoy taking you apart. How much I revel in coaxing every ticklish reaction out of you.
Eyes on me. As I start to spider my nails down your wrists, each second getting closer and closer to those helpless, stretched out pits? Does it tickle, darling? Yeah? Good, we're just getting started.
Eyes on me. I want to see you come undone. And if you look away, we'll just start all over again. It's only 5 minutes... but I wonder how long we'll be here 😘
Kanene's notes: LET'S GOOOO! I've really been into batfam lately and <3 <3 as I've said before the idea of writing a tickle fic w platonic a/b/o has been rotating on my mind forever so I hope you all like this silly story as much as I liked to write it <3.
Also big shout out to @august-anon for both dragging me into the Batfam fandom AND reading my brain about a/b/o tfics xDD
And! The idea of Tim getting very loopy after being tickled is heavily inspired by this fic so pls check out it too! ^^
Warnings: I've never read the comics so this is probably OOC. This is a platonic a/b/o AU, there are mentions of heats but it's purelly platonic and toothrotting fluff all around. Omega!Bruce Wayne. Ticklish!Tim & Ler!Bruce. Around 3.500 words.
[~*~]
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Hm.” Bruce answered, just the slightest upwards tilt on his lips, which was the equivalent of a shit-eating grin for him. More of the sleep-comfortable-safe pheromones that had been previously spreading slowly across the nest became stronger, probably already half way to impregnate the entire room. Tim grumbled as his muscles instinctively relaxed even more on the sea of comforters and pillows surrounding them. The laptop on his lap tilted dangerously, the case he was analyzing on the screen blinking in and out in front of his exhausted eyesight.
The entire scenario was way too alluring to his already tired mind, especially since that was no way for him to make a quick escape to have at least one cup of coffee or snag a couple of his energy drinks from the hidden stash.
He growled petulantly when Bruce’s hand inched closer to the device in his peripheral view, only for the adult to change his trajectory to lay it across the teen’s shoulder, pulling him closer to him and using his other hand to dutifully comb his hair (as if he wasn’t the one to blame for its messy state), scratching his scalp in a way that only made his body want to melt even more until Tim was nothing but a puddle in the nest.
The scalding look he sent Bruce had no effect as the other continued with the careful combing. At least he was gracious enough to ignore the childish, tiny puppy-whine that sang in the back of his throat at this unfair treatment, quietly answering it with an amused but non sense chuff.
He sighed and started to save his documents and turn off the programs he was using, preparing to turn off the computer before Bruce began to brood and use even more unhanded methods to get him to rest.
A post-patrol Bruce was impossible to escape and Tim had already fought valiantly as much as he could, but after spending an entire night as Batman, dealing with fights and high stress situations, all while using the heaviest scent-blockers on the market and pushing his every instinct down to hide any trace of heat from prying eyes, it was understandable that when he came back Bruce got a little overbearing.
Dick usually called it his Mama Bear mode, Jason, however, much less lovingly called it his Creepy Kidnapper Time, since no matter where they were or what time of the day it was, he would be usually using the shadows to snoop in and carry his (babies) (puppies) (children) (family) boys back to his nest (where they should be, why must they keep running away!) while scenting them like there was a horde of other packs just waiting for the slightest slip to steal them away from him, only to dump them on his nest and physically lay on them to prevent any escape attempts, amidst background noises full of swearing, amused crackling, protests or half-heartedly growls.
Nowadays it was all mostly funny, at most slightly annoying.
Even so, Tim doesn’t think he will ever recover from the heart attack that it was to be nodding his head to his metal music while hacking on the CPDC system on the Batcave (he could ask Gordon directly about it but it was always funny to see his tired-I’m-too-old-for-this-batbullshit stare every time they meet after Tim left him an absolutely very helpful very serious message remembering them how easy still it was to hack into their programs) in his second year being a Robin only to be dragged to the darkness by a Bruce chirping and nuzzling his hair and growling terrifyingly when Tim tried to (very politely at the time) get out of his nest to call Dick and ask if Batman had been abducted and exchanged by a clingy clone from another universe.
Years later and with all his family close again, there was never a shortage of children to lock his attention and soothe the haywire omega instincts that always clouded his mind during his heats. Unfortunately, this specific time they were in the middle of an important case that had Duke and Red Hood locked deep into undercover investigations, with Cass still in Chinatown solving her own troubles and Nightwing working extra hours to hide Batman’s shorter patrols from the public eye.
Damian had already served as a sacrifice in the morning for Bruce and had bravely endured all the coddling and care of his father for hours before scurrying to his room with hisses and bristles when Bruce tried to pull him back to his nest.
(Of course, that didn’t stop him from smirking smugly at Tim just a few minutes ago as he passed by Bruce’s door with Alfred The Cat in his arms, fully enjoying his new found freedom and enjoying even more Tim’s lack of it.)
With left Tim, who had been benched a couple days ago for pulling at his stitches after promising Alfred he would not do such a thing and was serving his exile to case working until the butler could be completely assured his cut would be healed nice and fully before he was allowed to step into patrols once again. Which may or may not have resulted in Tim feeling a tad left out and diving into investigations and solving cold cases with a determination that could make him forget basic necessities such as food and sleep.
Hence his new predicament.
“You should be on my side.” Tim ignored the sleepy notes that started to take over his words, frowning at Bruce, who hummed, not bothering to look up from his book, giving him a light scratch just above his nape that sent relaxing shivers across his spine. “One workaholic from another. Besides, you literally spent two hours brooding when Damian slammed the door in your face and stole my Stalker Album so you could whine at pictures of your kids and still insist on going to patrol every night while I can’t even help solving a few cases. Hypocrite much.”
The hand on his hair climbed down just enough to pinch the back of his ear lightly in reprimand. Bruce didn’t dignify him with an answer, rubbing his wrist on the sides of his neck with the scent that Tim had now come to associate with safety and pack.
Shit, Bruce really wasn’t above pulling the big guns tonight. Tim’s entire pack knew how any kind of close contact with even a small bit of pheromones from his pack was the perfect way to completely slow his mind and leave him totally loopy, which never failed to amuse his family.
He could pretend to mind all he wanted, too, but it was no secret how it all made that tiny puppy from years ago happy, the little one who watched hungrily those shows about packs that snuggled and lived and loved together, who read about bonds that went deference space and time to allow someone to call (someone to answer and come) when the other needed, who watched Batman pull Robin under his cape and yearned.
But a Robin was nothing if not stubborn. Time to change tactics.
“Woah, use the neglected kid's biggest weakness against him.” His attempt to push any kind of bite into his words were futile and when he blinked, slowly, the computer was no longer on his leg, probably scurried away under some hidden pillow of the nest. Tim blinked once more and he was being gathered closer, half draped on his dad’s chest, a deep rumble pulling a protesting chirp from him, even if it sounded even more half-meaning than the last. The fact that even after years living with his pack and yet just the slightest bit of a little stronger scent “Wait until the tabloids get a hang of this sob story, they will have a field day.”
Finally satisfied that his pup was smelling like him, Bruce huffed and began running the tip of his fingers on the other’s back, knowing very well all his kids were weak to back scratches and not afraid to use it to his favor.
“Resistance Training.” He remarked. Nothing in his voice was playful, but when you became fluent in Batman’s grunts and hums, you learned when to notice the lightness in his words and the small twinkle in his eyes that meant he was poking fun at you.
Tim squeaked, then pushed his face on his chest, shoulders shaking with a slight tremble on them. A playful content-fun-flustered flowery scent took the air and Bruce took advantage of how the other’s hidden face didn’t allow him to see the tiny smile forming on his expression.
Yes, all his kids were equally weak for back scratches, but some were simply weaker than others.
“Bruhuhuhuce!”
“Hm?”
Unbothered, the fingers continued, calmly climbing upwards in between firmer rubs and lighter scratching, until he could swirl patterns across his shoulder blades, sneaking a stronger scribble right under each one so the muffled titters gave up to a sea of snickers, silly, free and so unlike the serious, cunning Red Robin in the field or the well mannered Timothy Drake seen at galas that it made every cell in Tim’s body sparkle flustered, especially when he could literally feel the fondness oozing from Bruce through their bond.
He must have been even more tired than he thought, too, because with just that light touch all the rationality escaped his body in a haste, leaving behind only the buzzing, tingling tickles that made him automatically let go of all his control from his other bonds, not taking too long before Dick answered his rush of happiness with excitement-adorable-want-tease, Jason poked fun at him with a quick spark of amused-snort-goodluck, Damian took his revenge from all the early teasing sending a smug satisfied-deserved-welldoneFather and Alfred, with the lowest attack of them all, simply let the warmest, fondest feeling of love shower them through the bond.
“Nohoho ticklihihihing!” Ignoring how whiny and childish such words sounded, Tim wiggled from one side to another, trying to dislodge those damned skilled fingers that knew their every ticklish spot and refused to not explore each and every single of them again and again until he was nothing but a puddle of giggles.
Pinches upon pinches, light and soft and sparkling in tiny bolts of ticklishness that felt like shocking, buzzing electricity that kept teasing his nerves over and over again, rained upon the twin spots under his shoulder blades. They jumped from one to another in random intervals, barely letting his snickers slow before going to the other side and dragging squeaks upon squeaks from his throat. “Gehehehet out!”
“But you love your tickles.”
Tim sputtered, at the nonchalant way Bruce said it, at the truth in his words, at the way it didn’t even sound like a tease but was the meanest, most mischievous thing someone could say-
Bruce smirked, glad that the distracting technique still worked so well, and both of his hands came down to that lovely space in between his dear, poor ticklish son's back and armpit, latching on the weak spots with only his index and middle finger and tasering.
“y-yOU- NAHAHAHAHAHA!” The boy threw his head back, shrieking, his noodle arms finally gathered enough strength to push him away from Bruce’s chest, an effort that unfortunately only propelled him even close to the silly tickling fingers. “NOHOHOHOHOT THERE, BRUHUHUHUCE, NOT THEREHEHEHE!”
“Not where?” Tasering gave space to squeezes, one after the other after the other, again and again until the shrill sound of his crackles rang loud across the entire room. His arms lost once more their strength, which resulted in Tim falling back on Bruce’s chest, who bore the sudden weight with a quiet oof, amused at how no amount of contorting nor imitating a wiggly worm made the younger able to push the attacking hands away from the maddening spots.
He kept the attack for a few more seconds, alternating between drumming his fingers to catch ear-splitting squeals and wiggling that would pry the most lovely crackles. Eventually, the hands lifted from his back, letting the laughter simmer back to a fast, uncontrollable giggle fit. Laying a comforting hand in between his shoulderblades, only years of practice kept Bruce from cooing at how his son jumped and let out a tittering yelp at the sudden contact, sniggering growing stronger once again, despite the fact he wasn’t even moving his hand.
“Huh? Talk to me, chum. I’m afraid there is someone laughing an awfully lot close by and I couldn’t understand you.”
Tim shook his head, cheeks, ears, face melting at each tease. He opened his mouth to retort with… something only to feel two thumbs suddenly descending once more on the tickle spots, buzzing as if their lives depended on pushing all the air from his lungs in a loud, strident screech that was quickly followed by even more laughter.
“Oh!” Bruce exclaimed, enlightened, as if an idea just appeared on his mind. “Not here, were you saying?” He made sure to highlight his words with even more digging, thumbs crawling to tease with scribbles the edges of his armpits, which, of course, made Tim glue his arms to his sides in a poor defense that unfortunately only helped to lock the tickles right into the tickle spots. Poor lad. “Not right here, perhaps?”
“YES!” Tim crackled, shrieked, squealed, eyes pressed firmly closed, smile stretched from ear to ear. “NOHOHOHOT THERE! IT THIHIHIHICKLES, IT THIHIHICKLES!”
“Does it?” Suddenly, Bruce freed his hands from their imprisonment and wormed them under Tim’s arms until he could prod and spider across his ribs, attack now changing to a much softer, quicker kind of attack that were so unlike the previous one that it felt like they were directly teasing each one of his senses, buzzing and tingling spreading across his ribs and torso as if dancing across his nerves. It was just the perfect kind of tickles to catch the sweetest, most adorable fits of Tim giggling in the entire Earth. “What about here? Does it tickle too?”
Tim tried to roll away, shaking his head, then nodding, then trying to hide his face when he peaked one of his eyes open only to see the most embarrassing, mushy, soft face glued on Bruce’s expression that made him decide there was no other viable option other than faking his death and fleeing the country after this whole ordeal was over.
As if sensing the turn of his thoughts (or simply deciding that his son could have a little more of tormenting, as a treat), Bruce clawed at the top of his ribs, being careful to both latch and drum on the sensitive bones and skitter lightly at the ticklish places in between each rib. Tim kicked, garbled, completely intelligible sounds leaving his lips in a torrent of snickering, snorting laughter that made his entire body shake with the force of it.
Bruce hummed, even nodding once, as if he could understand a single word being said. “I see your point. Those indeed feel like ‘very tickle-tickly-ticklish’ ribs, but we must not fall on the fallacy of generalization, Tim. Let’s see if all of your other ribs are ticklish too.”
“Eeeek! Nononononohohoho! They’re tihihihihicklish! They’re tihihihihicklish, I swehehehear!”
Bruce pretended his heart wasn’t melting with the sheer cuteness that it was to see his son squealing in mirth in his arms and valiantly did not begin peppering his hair with kisses and nuzzles. “Sorry, chum, you know I must verify it.”
Giggles, snickers, squeaks, chuckles and snorts, it all mixed in the air as Bruce took his precious time “inspecting” each one of his ribs. There was prodding, there was poking along the bone, following his torso with scribbles and spidering when Tim tried to squirm away and low chuckles reverberating across the room each time a quick drumming or persistent scratching pried a surprised, tittering yelp or another sea of intelligible, protesting words that didn’t match at all the purring that sputtered here and there from the younger, growing louder and louder at each moment.
“Plehehehease! Dahahahad!”
Bruce froze in place.
And his internal omega sang.
He watched Tim, staring at him still giggling, still blushing, still scrambling with totally uncoordinated moves to pry his squeezing, pinching hands from his sides, only to see his eyes widening in recognition, his scent quickly growing with excitement-trepidation-surprise-mirth-wAIT-
On the next second, Bruce had his (puppy) (child) (kid) (son) (my pup, my pup, mine mine mine) in his arms and was nuzzling his hair, his neck, his stomach, crooning at the way it shook under his kisses and nibbles and scenting and raspberries that kept pulling, one after the other, those adorable, precious, happy high pitched, childish, free and unstoppable shrieking laughter, almost inaudible under his own loud purring and happy thrills as he made sure that every little crook and nook received their proper (tickly) attention over and over again.
And it really did, his dad was truly and 100% lost into his tickle lovingly mode (as Dick dearly named it) and it would be an absolute bliss (or at least a fun blackmail material to tease him when his heat-brain cleared) if every single piece of his affection didn’t tickle so much.
It wasn’t only the raspberries, the nibbles and the nuzzling that kept following his stomach and neck no matter how much Tim squirmed or pulled his shoulders upwards, only to have Bruce unyielding shoving his face and rubbing that awfully, absolutely horrible stubble all over his sensitive neck but also the way that he kept purring, the vibrations travelling his already sensitive tickle spots and only increasing every single ghost tickle tenfold.
It was also the way that his crooning and chuffing kept calling his inner pup and having Tim answering every single one of his calls with mirthful chirps and delighted thrills of yes-here-I’m-here-I’myourpup! that came out more and more snickery and giggly at each turn, which only resulted with Bruce calling him even more.
Or even worse (better), it was how listening to such a tiny, simple word made Bruce’s scent explode in happiness-love-care-pup-dear-joy-precious-mine-mine and how it made Tim’s very soul sing in delight, worming himself close to his scent and warmth (and, by proxy, the tickly attention).
His brain was completely taken over by the tickles and the feelings, every thought seemed to flee from Tim’s mind except his tittering, chirping and joyful, shrieking, hiccupping giggles that grew more and more loopy at each passing second, time losing its meaning in that sweet moment of love and care.
And even when the tickle attack ceased, Tim didn’t bother to try to wiggle away from the comfort of his dad's arms, trusting them to keep him safe in his slumber. Instead, as his chirps and snickers grew slower and lower, he nuzzled once under Bruce’s chin, snuggling closer and purring without a care in the world as Bruce arranged the blankets and pillows to better hide them from any danger or stranger that dared to come closer to his territory. There was a kiss on his head and a quiet grumble that was quickly changed to a pleased chuff when he moved just enough to pull some clothes that smelled like his pack closer.
Just like that, they fell into a comfortable sleep, a tiny, still lightly rational part of Bruce’s mind basking smugly in the happiness of another successfully executed plan.
[~*~]
Fun Facts!
I completely forgot the name of the police force in Gotham so I just pushed together random letters hope you can forgive me guys 'v')b
I love the idea that growing up pretty much alone makes Tim extra-extra susceptible to his pack scents. Like my boy is all >:[ serious mode working then Cass appears at his side looking at him with those Big Ol Eyes, scent full of worry-care-love because his brother haven’t slept in 3 days and Tim immediately begin feeling his walls crumbling and stubbornness weakening until he is turning off the computer and following her to her nest already half-asleep so they can cuddle and sleep all while they pretend that her loud satisfied-happy rumbling is hiding his content-loved tiny purring
OR OR OR Imagine he just surviving a tickle attack from Dick, all smiling, blushing, opening his eyes while there are still high pitched giggles leaving his mouth and BAM suddenly he is slammed by Dick’s happy-joy-mirth-love-love-family-love scent because that is !!!! his lil bro!!!! his cute lovely adorable little brother!!!!!! And Dick is purring up a storm nuzzling his hair, hugging him and Tim is now even MORE giggly completely loopy, automatically dazed, lost in the sauce, no thoughts on his head at all just happiness and giggles and ghost tickles
I like to think that his purring is usually all stumbling, like, quiet and a little bit weird sounding and interrupting itself because he is unused to make it OR when he is very very relaxed, almost asleep extremely loud, non stop, makes his entire chest tremble with the force of it, no in-between
Also u can decide everyone second gender I left it undecided for your imagination except for Bruce I am so sorry that man is an Omega in all the senses like COME ON his life is adopt kids and carry the weight of loving his family so much as a mantle and being hella protective of his city and his family LIKE!!!!!!
Also, I hope that was clear on the fic but in this AU not all the heats are sexual. Actually I’ve seen in a fic Bruce usually having a Puppy-Heat where he basically just wants to throw all of his children on his nest and make sure they are 100% secure and under his protection all the time and cuddled and taken care of and happy and that is basically what I wanted to have here too
I know most of the fics focus on Bruce in heat taking care of all his children and pulling them to his nest and everything but can we also talk a bit about a teen Bruce lurking around the corner of the kitchen and staring fixately at Alfred until the butler sigh, finish cleaning the plates and tidying everything else before fondly saying ‘Yes, master Bruce, I shall accompany you now.’ And following his dear boy to his nest while young Bruce tries to valiantly hide his happy chirping at finally having his family close and protected again, sleeping so easily and quietly under Alfred's vigilant gaze. Just think it’s extra funny to imagine Bruce being a hoarder since he was a tiny child jhygtfrgthyujikol
I also love to think about Cass ABSOLUTELY THRIVING with Heat-Bruce, happy to basically live in his nest during the duration of his heat, getting all the cuddles she could ever want, holding hour-long conversations with only chirps and purrs and chuffs and helping him to steal her brothers back every time they wander too far from the nest
The family has an album full of pictures that Tim took from all the members (in and out patrols, before and after him becoming Robin) which is lovingly called “the Stalker Book”
Ya know how cats begin to yowl when they think their owners are not home, calling for them? Bruce during his puppy heat with his children. Also they have a group chat where the only thing they send is videos/pics of embarrassing moments of Bruce during his heat and it's amazing
Also I think it is super funny Tim using his ‘woah, yeah, ok then deny the neglected kid any trace of love :/’ card every time his brothers deny him anything. Like I read a fic where Jason had been embarrassed bc he dragged Tim to his nest during his heat to cuddle and refused to get into it again until Tim began making those ‘sad-abandoned-alone-help’ puppy noises which IMMEDIATELY made Jason jump back to cuddle him (grumbling and swearing ofc) and I thought that was super funny so I hc him doing this all the time. He knows the power that he holds and he is not afraid to use it <3
Calling Bruce ‘dad’ can be a double edged sword he can either do anything you ask or immediately fall into tickle attack mode (must get the cuteness aggression out) there is also no in between rip (win-win situation i guess)
Anyway that's it yipeee pls leave a comment if u can I would love to hear any thoughts about this story or this trope <3
I LOVE THE USE OF PHEROMONES IN THIS. Bruce making Tim all comfy and sleepy with them was 💕💕 AND IDK IF THAT ALSO HAS TO DO WITH PHEROMONES, but that one bit where Tim kinda lost control of his bond with the others and projected all the stuff he was feeling AND THEY ANSWERED BY BEING SO LOVING AND CARING (and teasing 🙂↕️ ty Dick your contribution was much appreciated) WAS GENIUS AND SO SO ADORABLE??? HELL YEA GIVE HIM ALL THE LOVE
ALSO BRUCE IS A CHEATER. TIM WAS ALREADY READY TO TAKE A NAP AND THEN BRUCE RESORTED TO DIRTY TRICKS TSK TSK BRUCE
[“But you love your tickles.”] both me and Tim sputtering at this ruthless attack WHAT THE FUUUUUUU-
[“Huh? Talk to me, chum. I’m afraid there is someone laughing an awfully lot close by and I couldn’t understand you.”] TIM DONT ANSWER HIM IT'S A TRAP TIM NOOOOOOOOOOO
Someone's gonna have to tell Bruce he broke his whole "not killing" thing bc I've passed away btw 👍 my soul is on its way up as we speak 👍
“Sorry, chum, you know I must verify it.” From the heavens where I reside, with my little eye I spy: A LIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR
AND!!!! ALSO!!!!! TIM CALLING HIM "DAD" AND THEN BRUCE BEING SO MUSHY ABOUT IT???? PERFECTION. TWELVE THOUSAND OUT OF TEN RATING TEEHEE 💕💕💕 best of luck to our guy Tim with helping his dad deal with all that cuteness aggression <3
Kaneneeee all the chirps and purrs and little noises as well as Bruce marking Tim with his scent just made me smile so wide ahskdhsksh I remember first discovering omegaverse and thinking "so no wolf-like people?? boo, boring 👎" AND YOUR WRITING IS EXACTLY WHAT LITTLE ME WAS HOPING FOR, I ATE THIS WHOLE THING UP LIKE A GOURMET MEAL I TELL YOU
bro all I wanted was to write a cutesy tickle fic of my Where Winds Meet ocs and here I am plummeting down the rabbit hole of real-life Hexi Corridor research
@squeaky-n-blushy I just had a thought and I don't know if it's cute or low-key kinda sad
You know how Donna speaks through Angie, and since Angie is basically a representation of Donna herself (I think that's canon, but correct me if I'm wrong), wouldn't that mean that whenever Angie is wrecking her shit she's essentially tickling herself?
It's been a while since my RE craze so I might be wrong (or this might just be fanon) but I think Donna doesn't have direct/purposeful control over Angie, even if she's still a part of Donna at least to some extent. So Donna's so touch-starved and isolated she's SUBCONSCIOUSLY WRECKING HERSELF 😭 someone go show her affection please I beg
Kanene's notes: Yay! :D More original stories! Around 1.500 words.
[~*~]
“My love!!” They squealed, squirmed, shrieked as her hands came in their direction, their own hands much clumsier in their attempt to stop her. “My love, MY LOVE, I said!!”
The alien fell into rumbly, growly giggles at that. Her fur twinkled with explosions of pink and red, feelings adoring and accusing in her next words. “You are stalling!”
“I am!” They were barely words at this point, more hiccupping snickering than anything else and the human has to look away from those twinkling eyes watching their every expression before their face combust from embarrassment. They end up hiding their flustered state on the mattress, shoulders shaking with the force of their mirth, another squeak escaping. “It’s hahard, okay?!”
The alien huffs, clearly suspicious, yet unstoppable amused, when light shades of blue (consideration) starts to paint her fur. “These tickles… do they get to you through the air? This is why you’re laughing already?”
“No, no,” they kept their hold on her hands, even when the alien tried to lightly pull them free jokingly, only fueling the panicked giggles even more. “No! Nonono, please wait, I’m too pent up for this. I need to breathe.”
“You’re not breathing?!” Now there was the alarmed orange shining in alarm on her.
“A little. I need to breathe for a little while, only. Don’t worry.” Another yelp when the alien tries to get closer to her partner, more tittering escaping from their lips with the scare, every move from the other’s fur on their skin making their every nerve jump and tingle with vengeance. “Fuck, I’m so loopy right now,” they probably didn’t mean to tell the last part out loud but, ah, it would be alright.
Tightly closing their eyes, the human forced themselves to settle and take unhurried gulps of air. It took a few tries until they were able to breathe normally without descending immediately into more of that cute hiccupping tittering of theirs that made her want to chirp and giggle too.
Only then did they open their eyes once more and found those attentive, curious black eyes watching them intently, instinctively making their smile bigger at the loving pink coloring her. Maybe getting all her attention wasn’t that bad.
“Humans are weird.” The alien whispered like a secret, relaxed once more now that she was sure her partner was alright.
“Oh, sush,” the human swatted at their lover, feeling flustered once more when any attempt to wiggle around was firmly stopped by the firm hold she still had on them… Maybe it is only their fault, for promising to explain to her, with all the details and, caham, physical demonstration, what exactly was that “tickling” thingie her human was so fond of. Anticipation teased each one of their tickle spots.
“You also would be nervous if you were about to be tickled by such a beautiful woman.”
“I would not. I do not have this trait you call ‘ticklish’.” Then she furrowed her brows, eyes narrowing, her voice petulantly demanding. “Enough of your distractions. Tell me how I tickle you already.”
The human let their head hit the pillow, a wobbly smile already taking over their lips once again, giggles bubbling on their throat. “You have no idea how mean is the fact that I have to explain this all for you from scratch. This is going to be the death of me. Are you sure you just don’t want to watch a video about it?”
The alien surged forward abruptly, prying another one of those cute, “scared” yelps of them. The human pouted at her rumbly amused laughter.
“I will not learn this from any other human. Only you or I shall not learn at all.” She remarked her cheesy comment by nuzzling at their neck. More snickers. Loopy, so loopy. “You’re laughing at me.”
“Ihihi’m not! I told you alreahady, it tickles!” They jumped with a squeal as a light pinch hit their side and black eyes honed on their reaction with the intensity of one thousand suns. They gulped. “This is, uh, this is a good start. To… yeah.”
“Pinching? I just have to pinch you all around?”
She did it, again and again, watching with fascination as her companion wiggled from one side to another in a funny dance, their reactions bright and high pitched. Experimentally she pinched her other side with the tip of her claws, lightly. The human yelped and squeaked more and more, nose scrunching in a cute way that made her want to nip at it. So, she did, which only brought a new wave of titters.
Humans are funny, walking around with a vulnerability like that. Maybe that is why they use clothes, so they will not fall on the floor squeaking at the slightest wind.
“Ihihihit’s one way to dohoho it! Just be cahahahareful and sohohoft- Ah! This ihis really bahahahahad!”
“You truly weren’t lying about this. We can just… touch humans and they will begin to laugh and squirm uncontrollably.” Once more, she shoved her face on their neck, uncontrollable, cheesy happy purrs growing only stronger at the ear splitting squeals that their throat shake and tremble each time she noses at the sensitive skin. “Maybe it’s not too late for me to become a scientist like those human movies of yours. Abduct my own human and write my research about the ticklish discoveries.”
The next protest wasn’t in any language that she recognized, more garbled sounds than anything else. If she managed to pull an even higher sound from her lover, it would be like her species would romance and serenade each other in notes that only their partner would understand. Their very own love language. She purred louder at those thoughts, fur painted in a bright purple of happiness. Instinctively, her fangs scraped lightly on their neck in a mockery of a loving bite, only for the human to trash in response, a shriek filling the air, making her pull away from her warm spot.
“Hurt?” She watched as the other looked startled by their own reaction. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no, it didn’t hurt, just…” They blinked, jerking again at the feeling of those claws so gently caressing at their sides in worry, their smile widening and wobbling even further, a tremble growing on their body as they tried to contain a surprised snort, a snicker on the tip of their tongue. They jerked again and again, from one side to another, as she repeated her caressing, letting only the tip of their claws drag back and forth across their sides in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.
When another squirm brought her paws closer to their ribs and a crackle finally escaped from those firmly pressed lips, she understood.
“This is tickling you too!” Experimentally, she went higher, her fingers increasing the pressure on the space in between her ribs, too light to be a hold and too strong to be nothing. Crackles followed her efforts, changing to hiccupping titters each time she brushed her fur and the tips of her claws quickly up and down, again and again, across her sides only to grow back to strong crackling when she went back to poking and prodding around the ribcage.
“You promised to explain it to me!” The alien petulantly complained, mock biting her neck once again so she could hear that adorable shriek. Then doing it over and over again, because she could never have too much of her partner being the cutest human in the universe. “I am here fighting to find everything all by myself. Alone. Utterly and hopelessly abandoned by her love in her moment of most need.”
“Whahahat!” Even their voice sounded high, winded, a gigantic grin taking over their features as their hands moved clumsily to hide their face, since each time they tried to move them to push her away she growled and lightly bit their fingers in protest. They sputtered. “S-stohohohop this! What ehehehelse do you wahahahaha-want me tohoho say! It tickleeeehehehe!”
“Hm, when I bite you, does it tickles?”
“YES!”
“When I caress you, does it tickles too? When I poke your ribs? When I purr in your neck? When I just move all my claws around? Does it all tickles you?”
“Yes, yes, yes! It dohohohohohoes! It really tickles! Stohohop asking quehehehestions!”
She threw her head back in joyful laughter, booming, rumbling, purple and happy all around. When she looked back at her human, there was an excited light in her eyes. Her paws were huge, practically engulfing their face when she held it. Lovingly, she softly brushed her thumbs on their cheeks, nipping playfully her scrunched up nose when that also brought up a snort and even more snickers.
“Just when I thought I could love you more, my life, you just had to come and surprise me.” The alien then growled, her smirk taking a mischievous edge. “Now, tell me more about this tickle thing of yours.”
[~*~]
Me, at every chance of writing about Non Human Beings discovering the magic of tickling:
EEEEEEEEEEE 💕💖💕💖 ALIENS DISCOVERING TICKLING IS ALWAYS SUCH AN AMAZING TROPE, and this one is one hell of a talented alien because MAN SHE'S GOT SKILLS, DIDN'T EVEN NEED TO BE TAUGHT HOW TO TEASE IN THE MOST DESTRUCTIVE WAYS POSSIBLE
Also. Also [“These tickles… do they get to you through the air? This is why you’re laughing already?”] That should not have been as flustering as it was ahslahdkdhsk AND THE FACT SHE WASN'T EVEN TRYING TO TEASE THERE
SPEAKING OF TEASING, [“Maybe it’s not too late for me to become a scientist like those human movies of yours. Abduct my own human and write my research about the ticklish discoveries.”] MA'AM YOU ARE A NATURAL, GOODNES GRACIOUS. LITTLE HUMAN DOWN 💔
Kanene 👁👁 Kanene who are these characters KANENE WE NEED ANSWER WE NEED MORE 👁👁 Ngl I loved dramatic, demanding and mischievous alien woman AND I AM LOOKING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN HER AND YOU WITH BIG CURIOUS EYES 👁👁
Kanene's Notes: Just remember that I can anything I want forever :D yipeee
[~*~]
“It’s just like having my very own squeaky toy!” The Human wondered out loud, cleary amused with how the Borrower shook their head, legs kicking tiny divots on the pillow where they were being pinned. “Let’s see, I just gotta give you a small little tickle right here and…”
A high pitched, uncontrollable squeal broke amidst crackling laughter. The Borrower could only squeal again, when the Human attacked his poor tummy once more, all the squirming and trashing around serving only to rid up their shirt and expose even more their tickle spots.
“LEHEHEHEHET ME GOHOHOHO, Y-YOU STUHUHUPID GIANT!”
The Human whistled. “Woah, name calling? We’re jumping to name calling now? Nooo, that’s so mean. ~” Pretending to be annoyed, they poked the other one lightly, chuckling at the screech that brought before going back to softly scratching all the tickle spots under his touch. It was so fascinating, the havoc a single finger could create. But, well, considering their finger was so big that it could tickle the entirety of their belly and sides in a single wiggle, it couldn’t be that surprising.
Poking them once again so they could make those fun little squeaks again, The Borrower felt their face flush with all the loud, child-like laughter that spilled non stopping from their mouth, free and unrestrained in a way that it could never afford to be before.
It was a blessing to be able to crackle like this in the open, without fear of being discovered.
It was a curse that their friend was so insufferable about this.
Not being able to withstand the onslaught of scribbles and prodding on their sides, the Borrowed twisted and trashed until they could turn on their side and press at least part of their belly on the pillow, in a poor attempt to escape from the tickles.
Even so, surprisingly, the wiggling finger went away.
For some reason that did not bring the Borrower as much relief as it should.
“Ooooo,” Electricity ran across their spine at the mischievous delight in the Human’s tune. “All these new spots, for lil’ old me?”
“Don’t you dare- ahahaha!”
“It seems like they areee, thank you so much for showing them to me. ~”
The finger was back, now both prodding their spine nonstop and tormenting the back of their ribs again and again until another round of curses was lost to breathless, wheezing and snorting laughter that made their entire Borrower shake with the force of it. It was mirthful, it was unbearable, it was amazing.
“IHIHIHIHI HATE YOU SOHOHOHO MUCH! STOHOHOHOP THIS!!”
“What is it? Sorry, I can’t understand you with all that laughter. Did you say I am your bested friend in the world? And that you want to be tickle-tickle-tickled forever and ever? Awww, don’t worry. On it!”
They tilted their pointing finger just the slightest bit to the right, trying their best to concentrate the tickles on those ticklish ribs, cheering when they were rewarded by a surprised shriek, the Borrower cursing the other hand that kept them carefully pinned.
“I wonder if both the front and the back of your ribs are equally ticklish?”
“WHAHAHAHAHAT KIND OF QUESTIOHOHOHON IS THAT?”
“What, not so curious anymore? Remind me who woke me up from my nap by tickling me all over because you wanted to see if, ah, how did you say it again? Ah, if such ‘brute beings could be something so delicate as ticklish’. Who kept running across my torso and teasing Every. Single. Tickle. Spot while taunting me for not being able to move?”
The Human stopped and hovered their finger menacingly, watching as the other tried to take a deep breath and being stopped every second by a sea of unending giggles.
When they were finally able to stop the snickering for seconds enough to say something, the Human narrowed their eyes at the smirk that opened in their lips.
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Ah, you little-!”
“NOT MY FAULT Y-YOHOHOU ARE A TIHIHIHIHICKLISH BABY- AH! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!”
And, unknow to them, that is how a new tradition started on their friendship.
EHEHEHEEEEEE SO CUUUTEEE, YOU CAN WRECK THE LITTLE GUY WITH JUST ONE TINY FINGER :DDD I thought the ler was being mean (/silly) but turns out it was justified TEEHEE
ALSO
[“Ooooo,” Electricity ran across their spine at the mischievous delight in the Human’s tune. “All these new spots, for lil’ old me?”] + [“It seems like they areee, thank you so much for showing them to me. ~”] WHAT THE FUCK EVIL EVIL EVIL ABSOLUTELY WICKED I'LL BE CALLING THE AUTHORITIES
Characters: Lee!Zhuo Yichen, Ler!Zhao Yuanzhou/Zhu Yan
Warnings: A little angst, mentions of murder and grief.
Word count: 2.700 words
Summary: Zhuo Yichen longs for what he won't let himself have.
A/N: Bittersweet ficlet ahead. Legends say this is what happens when you listen to the Fangs of Fortune ost on repeat. (This has very little tickling in it even though it's one of its central themes, but I'm oddly satisfied with the 'soft melancholy' vibes. Also, I titled this after Zhuo Yichen's character song, which I definitely only think about a perfectly normal amount.)
It was an uneventful morning until the shrill echoes of Bai Jiu's screaming (nothing unusual) morphed into loud, unstoppable giggles.
Zhuo Yichen thought nothing of it, at first. It was probably just their little doctor and Ying Lei up to their usual antics. But when the sounds carried on and on and on and the commander heard several shrieks that sounded somewhat close to a very giggly "Da-yao!", he started getting concerned.
"Xiao Jiu?" He'd tracked the sound in instants, then blinked once. Twice. His face contorted with confusion.
Zhao Yuanzhou stood peacefully in the center of his courtyard, eyes dripping with amusement as he peered down at their youngest member.
Who, for no apparent reason, was rolling on the floor and laughing himself hoarse.
"Xihihihiao Zhuhuhuo-ge!" Frantic, approaching giggles broke him out of his stupor, Bai Jiu rolling towards him and clinging to his leg before the youngster's whole body contorted as if being struck by lightning. "Hehehehehelp!"
A fierce glare was fixed onto the great demon while Zhuo Yichen knelt down to hurriedly inspect the boy. "What did you do?"
"That's almost right," the white ape demon leaned lazily against the courtyard tree, oozing mirth despite the theatrically disappointed expression he schooled his features into. "Xiao Zhuo-daren, why don't you instead ask our young friend just what was it that he didn't do?"
Zhuo Yichen sent him a flat stare, weakened in icyness by the squirming child he was trying and failing to help gain back his footing. "Say what you want to say already."
The demon sighed, though the crinkle of his eyes betrayed his mirth while he stepped forward. "My understanding of human customs is that when someone comes to you with doubts you so generously clear, the least you're owed is a thank you, isn't that right?" His foot gently nudged the enchanted medicine bag Bai Jiu had been wearing for a few days. "Looks like our Xiao Baitu hasn't been taught well, so I'm helping him learn." Zhao Yuanzhou's gaze rose to meet Zhuo Yichen as he pointed not at all discreetly towards Bai Jiu. His staged whisper was as clear as a shout. "He's a little slow."
"It tihihicklehehes!" Bai Jiu screeched into his ear. Zhuo Yichen winced. Painstakingly he drew in a breath, heat roaring to life on his cheeks without his knowledge. It took everything in him to muster up a glare.
"Undo it," he sent his message across with a hand resting at the hilt of his sword, even as his skin prickled under Zhao Yuanzhou's open intrigue. Whatever frivolous comment sitting on Zhao Yuanzhou's lips miraculously reigned itself in as the demon raised his hands in surrender, eyes widened in mock innocence.
There was no blinding flash of demonic energy nor anything of the sort. But gradually, the boy's torrent of giggles and shrieks eased into sporadic snickers as he slumped against Zhuo Yichen. He hugged himself as the commander at last managed to help him up, his lips still stretched into a smile while he regained his breath, shyness permeating his voice. "Thank you, Xiao Zhuo-ge."
"Eh?!" Zhao Yuanzhou strode forward and Bai Jiu screeched, swiftly hiding behind Zhuo Yichen. "So you know to thank him?"
Zhuo Yichen pointedly ignored the anticipation bubbling in his chest at being between the demon and his target. He nudged Bai Jiu's shoulder for him to get back inside. Both watched him dash out of the courtyard, and at the child's absence Zhuo Yichen felt the weight of those eyes solely on him, harboring far too much interest for his liking.
"Ridiculous." Zhuo Yichen scoffed before Zhao Yuanzhou had the chance to spew whatever foolishness was just waiting for a chance to spill out. "You'd spend your time bullying a child?"
Zhao Yuanzhou took silent note of the redness adorning the commander's ears before a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, mischievous yet undeniably fond. "Xiao Zhuo-daren worries too much," languidly he held two fingers up to his chin, glistening demonic energy curling like smoke around his fingertips. "I assure you it's completely harmless. Let me show you–"
"Stay away from me," Zhuo Yichen scorned, already three steps back. He didn't wait a second more before turning on his heel and marching deep into the bureau, his clothes swishing sharply behind him.
All the while, Zhao Yuanzhou watched with fascination the flush of red at the man's nape, every erratic beat of that mortal heart deepening his curiosity as the one he owed so much disappeared into the hallways.
Zhao Yuanzhou chuckled. Knowing and amused and so, so very fond. "Xiao Zhuo, ah, Xiao Zhuo," he shook his head, sighing lightly. Even then, mirth never once left his face.
Yet if anyone else was looking, if they observed long enough–
Alone in the courtyard, Zhao Yuanzhou gazed off into the distance and swirled the liquid in his bottle.
Zhuo Yichen was overly cautious, at first. For days.
It was always the same song and dance, whenever the two were within each other's vicinity. Zhuo Yichen would catch sight of him, and his treacherous heartbeat would spike. Zhao Yuanzhou would meet his eyes, a small smile gracing his features and making the rigid swordsman tear his gaze away with pink-dusted cheeks.
Zhao Yuanzhou huffed a laugh every single time, and Zhuo Yichen pretended not to notice. Just as he pretended not to follow the demon's every movement, stiffening each time Zhao Yuanzhou readied himself for a one-word spell. It didn't help that Zhao Yuanzhou visibly pretended to be oblivious to it, humoring him as if he were a child, eyes curving into crescents whenever Zhuo Yichen watched him from the corner of his vision.
The commander couldn't help but berate himself for it. Zhuo Yichen had no room for such childish behavior in his life, there was no purpose to the giddy pressure in his chest aside from distracting him. He shouldn't allow it so much room in his mind.
And yet it still had him engrossed in his imagination, enough he slowly stopped monitoring whatever the demon was doing to envision what he could be doing. Enough that even the others noticed he seemed far deeper into his own head than usual. If even Pei Sijing sent him concerned glances and advised him to get some rest when it took over two calls of his name to get him to snap into focus, he wouldn't delude himself into thinking Zhao Yuanzhou hadn't also noticed.
Especially when Zhao Yuanzhou chose to make that very clear later on, when every unanswered call of his name was followed by touch he couldn't tune out even if he tried.
A soft drag of fingertips against his back to get him moving when he stood absent-mindedly rooted to the spot; A single, discreet squeeze to his side to draw his attention at conversations; An unnatural gust of wind making each nerve of his neck stand on end when his face grew too forlorn.
And every time he turned his head to glare, he prepared himself to get teased unendlessly, to come face to face with a smirk that would have him drawing his sword in embarrassment at the first provocation.
But he got none of that. Every sharp stare was welcomed with a soft smile and silent understanding, and Zhuo Yichen didn't know what to do with that.
This was why he didn't usually mull over such things. There were thoughts he didn't want to entertain, things he couldn't bring back into his life, lest he's ready to confront the reality that he continued to be a living being that yearned, despite that orphaned boy lying in the snow having sworn off any and all longing.
Because Zhuo Yichen wasn't ready yet. Not when his clan's killer slept under his family's roof and treated him with all the gentleness he had no right to. Not when Zhao Yuanzhou– Zhu Yan– smiled at him and touched him so casually and Zhuo Yichen dishonored all his principles by being unable to rouse enough rage within himself because of it.
Every once in a while, this confusion kept him awake. Restless.
Unfortunately for him, there was someone in the bureau who didn't have much need for sleep.
"Why are you here?"
From the floor, Zhao Yuanzhou glanced up at the sudden voice and paused. His eyes were fixed to the rare sight of the swordsman's casual sleep attire, his gaze frozen on the waterfall of loose, inky hair cascading down the man's chest. For a second, his breath stilled.
He willed himself to look back at the pool he'd been gazing into before the other had arrived, at the miniature buildings carved into the stone. His fingers reached into the water, sending ripples all through the surface. "It's a beautiful piece of work." Moonlight glistened through the artificial pond, exceptionally bright tonight. "Truly worthy of admiration."
'I know,' the bitter words didn't make it out of Zhuo Yichen's thoughts, lacking venom even in his head as he watched the koi fish swim peacefully through the same sculptures he used to spend hours watching, lost in his grief.
Still, his feet carried him to Zhao Yuanzhou's side. Surprising even himself, he sat. "I'll shove your head in the water then, so you can admire it more closely."
Zhao Yuanzhou huffed, a smile already gracing his lips. "All this hostility this late into the night only keeps the heart alert." He took his hand off the water. The sound reverberated through the silent chamber, and Zhuo Yichen felt oddly calm even as Zhao Yuanzhou inched towards him, resting an elbow on his own knee. "Shouldn't you be winding down at this hour?"
Zhuo Yichen fell silent. Zhao Yuanzhou was old beyond what his mortal mind could comprehend, the demon didn't need things spelled out for him to figure out sleep had been evading him.
Zhao Yuanzhou mirrored his silence, for once. Seemed like he, too, understood.
The commander fixed his gaze on a pair of brightly colored fish swimming in unison, like a synchronized dance. Cast by the glow of flickering lanterns and the moon, the room where the very air was once suffocating with loss now felt laced with a sense of drowsy stillness.
Peaceful silence stretched on, broken only by the gentle sounds of the water, and Zhuo Yichen felt tension dissolve from his muscles.
Deep within the bureau, their friends slumbered, safe and sound. Danger might reach them in the morning, and it might be him the one to draw his blade on another the day after that, but for now, all was well.
Maybe it was fine to let himself live in the moment, just for a few minutes.
Slowly, a warm hand settled on his spine. The touch was light as it traced a path to the back of his ribs, barely more than a caress. And with no warning, those fingers curled.
Zhuo Yichen flinged himself to the side. "You-!" Distantly he was aware of his ears growing hot, but all he could focus on was the ghost of that tingling sensation on his skin that made something he didn't want to acknowledge blossom in his chest.
A small, tender smile met his widened eyes. Zhao Yuanzhou sat quietly, his hand held up in the space Zhuo Yichen had been occupying. Zhuo Yichen watched the demon bring his gaze back to the pool, letting whatever conflict showed on his face remain private.
His hand remained up in the air for a moment longer, before lowering itself to the floor. Just far enough not to invade the commander's space, but still deliberately close. A clear offer.
Zhuo Yichen's breath caught in his throat. Shame would creep in with vengeance at the first rays of dawn, to be sure. But as of now, the night was cold. The dark made him drowsy. And as of now, the lack of sleep and of bells in his hair, chiming in remembrance, brought forth traitorous questions to fill in the silence.
'If I still keep my promise, how much does this really matter?'
Zhao Yuanzhou didn't turn his head at the rustle of clothes beside him. As warmth hesitantly crept closer, all he did was bring his hand back to the same spot as moments before.
Light as a feather, fingertips danced and swirled at the backside of his ribs, pressing and skittering gently onto the clothed skin over the bones and between. Zhuo Yichen felt a shudder course through him, just shy of growing into a full body squirm. Sensation exploded along the back of his bottom ribs as Zhao Yuanzhou crooked his fingers experimentally over the spot, and it took Zhuo Yichen all his effort not to arch instinctively away from the touch.
Both kept their eyes firmly fixed to the water, one oblivious to the suppressed, wobbly smile fighting to make its way onto the other's lips, one oblivious to the open affection in the other's face. Zhuo Yichen didn't dare sneak a glance at Zhao Yuanzhou. Maybe if he didn't react too intensely, didn't make a sound, didn't let the demon see whatever undignified expression he forced his muscles to fight against, then Zhuo Yichen could still face him with his pride intact.
What he wanted to hate the most, though, was that Zhao Yuanzhou seemed to know of unspoken needs. He could think of no other reason why those touches never hastened above what he could quietly take. Even as Zhuo Yichen caught himself almost losing his composure and forced himself into an almost meditative posture– which inevitably left many spots unprotected– Zhao Yuanzhou was never intense nor overwhelming as his fingers slipped to his side.
Goosebumps erupted on his skin, following after lazy strokes that trailed up and down, up and down, barely over a snail's pace. Only fast enough to leave Zhuo Yichen in doubt as to whether he wanted to storm away or wanted those feelings to embolden and overload his senses already.
Strokes grew into quickened scritching and pinching that had his muscles spasming despite their lightness, perhaps because of it. Nails brushed a hair's length from his stomach, and that alone made him tense all over in effort not to catapult himself backwards, some strangled sound nearly forcing its way through gritted teeth.
As if in understanding, Zhao Yuanzhou instead diverged the path of his fingers down to his waist and Zhuo Yichen discovered that was worse.
He was quick to stand. Abruptly he rose to his feet in one brusque, controlled movement before he could have been sent haphazardly flailing away.
Zhao Yuanzhou tentatively turned to look as the cloth beneath his hands gave way to cold air. The man beside him stood with his head faced away, all that was visible to Zhao Yuanzhou being the tight, resolute clench of his jaw.
The playful tilt of his smile faltered. By the time it almost resembled a frown, something painfully soft took its place. 'Bittersweet,' he thought.
"It's late," he murmured, gentle and hushed as if trying not to startle a frightened animal. Only the exhaustion muddling the commander's thoughts kept him from glowering. "Xiao Zhuo-daren should get some rest."
'Damn you.' Zhuo Yichen answered in his mind. Even his inner voice held no heat. Something continued to churn within his chest since he sat by the demon's side, and he could only foolishly hope it was anger. 'How can you be so cruel that you won't let me hate you?'
Zhuo Yichen glanced back at him. For one split moment, Zhao Yuanzhou could see the soft creases of his brows, the storm brewing deep in his eyes. A split moment was all he was allowed, before Zhuo Yichen turned away once more. The tone of his voice was forcibly even.
"Be up early. We leave in the morning."
Zhuo Yichen focused on the sound of his own footsteps, and told himself that any emotion that might have crossed the other's face behind his back was none of his concern.
