Author’s Note: So this is my first fic I’ve done in a while, it was really honestly forever ago when I wrote one. But this is also my first tickle fic, and what better way to celebrate that than by writing about a couple of my adorable OCs? You can check them out on the link “OC Links” on my blog, and I suggest you do and ask me about them bc I love to talk about my darlings. <3
Also thanks to @nerdy-giggles for convincing me to post this bc they’re a sweetie. And what are titles.
ANYWAY.
Summary: Myarel is getting rather annoyed with Isaac’s pranks. Finally he corners Isaac and gets his revenge. Isaac learns that he probably shouldn’t mess with his friend like this again...
Warnings: No real warnings here, just some language. All of my fics will be sex-free. :3
Isaac- Hebrew name that translates to “laughter” or “he laughs”.
The white-haired man was enjoying the quiet that came with the dusk, sitting in the barn’s loft and facing the road, smoking a cigarette and letting the smoke out through his nose. The sun had just barely set, and the moon was beginning to rise. One of his bare feet was hanging down above the doors to the barn, the other propped on the edge of the loft. He was aware that he had hay on his jacket, but he didn’t care– the peace and quiet was worth it.
Especially since Isaac had been messing with him for the past 3 days.
First he’d offered Myarel a cigarette, but it turned out to be a joke buzzer disguised as a cigarette box. Next time he put an ice cube down the back of Myarel’s shirt– one of the reasons why he rarely wore shirts, and only his jacket. Cold didn’t bother him, but cold sliding down the back of his shirt without warning did. Then he’d done the old-as-dirt whipped cream and feather trick– and he ran off before Myarel could smack him with his cream-covered hand. He’d put a bucket filled with ice water on top of the door to the barn and nearly broken a rib laughing when Myarel glared at him like an angry, wet cat. He’d tied Myarel’s ankles together while he was dozing and shoved him, and Myarel fell flat on his face getting up to chase him. He’d taken off with Myarel’s jacket and gave it to Lyn, who, thankfully, was kind enough to give it back.
The last time Isaac pranked him was when he innocently gave a sleep-deprived Myarel a cup of coffee… with salt instead of sugar. Isaac took off and Myarel just smacked his head on the kitchen table, groaning. Lyn was snorting as he patted Myarel’s back.
“Damn, man, he’s been gettin’ you good, ain’t he?”
Myarel mumbled something in German under his breath, and the Southerner ruffled his hair. “Don’ worry. He’ll slip up, ‘n then you c'n get ‘im.”
Myarel purred slightly at the fingers in his hair, and then the blind man was gone.
And now here he was in the loft of the barn, hoping that, at the very least, Isaac was asleep. He was so focused on thinking about what had to be done tomorrow that he didn’t notice Isaac creeping up behind him, silently ascending on the ladder and grabbing an armful of hay.
Without warning, Isaac dumped the hay on the older man, and Myarel nearly fell out of the loft. For a split second he felt panic rise in him, but he remembered his teleportation and disappeared, reappearing behind Isaac. The blond was bent over laughing, clutching his stomach and going pink in the face.
“Fuck, mahan, that was so fuckin’ funny, you should’ve seen how you reacted!” Isaac turned to face him, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Myarel was not pleased– he had hay everywhere. In his hair, in his jacket, covering his legs… his cigarette was clenched between his teeth, and it took all he had not to growl while he glared daggers at Isaac with sapphire eyes.
In his anger, he realized he was blocking Isaac’s escape route– and he got an evil idea of how to get his revenge. He smirked devilishly, and suddenly Isaac’s emerald eyes showed confusion and a little bit of fear. The demon put out his cigarette between his fingers, looking his friend in the eye.
“Isaac, mein freund… you fucked up.”
He grabbed Isaac by his vest, glad that the younger always kept his white undershirt unbuttoned, and pinned him down in the hay, straddling him and leaning over him with a vicious grin. “I’ll give you something to laugh about.”
Isaac was babbling, already knowing what was going to happen, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
“Myarel, hey, I’m sorry I messed with you, you don’t have to do this, I-I promise I’ll stahahAHAHAP!” Isaac’s begging was cut off by Myarel sliding his fingers under his friend’s shirt and tickling under his arms. Just as Myarel thought, Isaac quickly brought his arms down, trapping the other’s fingers there as he ducked his head to hide his blush.
“Isaac, you know I can’t stop tickling you if you’ve trapped my fingers.” The teasing was what drove the Russian insane, and Myarel, being the father of triplets, was far too good at it. Despite his instincts, Isaac lifted his arms enough to let the German’s hands go, only for them to dig into his ribcage, fingers vibrating between the bones.
Isaac’s ribs were nowhere near as ticklish, so his laughter died into hysterical giggles and snorts as he tried to grab Myarel’s hands to no avail. Myarel was also quite skilled at tickling, much to the blond’s dismay.
“Nohoho, stohohop! I’m gonna dihihihie!” He whined, throwing his head back against the hay, and Myarel just chuckled.
“Do you promise not to prank me anymore?” Isaac nodded vigorously. “Ihihi dohohoho!”
Myarel looked like he was thinking for a moment. “Hm, I believe you, but I think I should give you an… incentive, in case you decide to change your mind.”
“Noho, wahahAHAIT!” The white-haired man dug his fingers into Isaac’s tummy, causing him to shriek and dissolve into helpless laughter. He tried to buck his hips to get Myarel off of him, but there was no way to escape– and when Myarel wiggled a finger into his navel, Isaac swore he was literally going to die by being tickled too much.
It got worse when the demon’s fingers rested on his now-exposed hips, but instead of tickling them, Myarel lowered his face toward his friend’s stomach. His slight stubble made the blond’s tummy twitch, but he held in his giggles and tried to reason with the man.
“No– don’t you fuckin’ dare! I’ll– AHAHAHAHAHA!” His threat was cut short by a loud raspberry being blown onto his stomach, and if he thought it couldn’t get worse before, it was now. Because while Myarel continued to blow raspberries and torment Isaac’s tummy with his stubble, his thumbs dug into Isaac’s hips.
“You’ll what, hm? Laugh? That’s not going to stop me…. it seems you’ve gotten more sensitive since the last time I tickled you, too. That’s rather adorable.” He knew he was really getting to the blond now, if the change in the pitch of his laughter told him anything.
Isaac felt like he was going insane– no amount of shoving, smacking, kicking, or squirming could get him anywhere, and eventually he just weakly pounded Myarel’s back with his fists, his laughter finally silent, his face bright red and his eyes overflowing with tears of mirth.
Myarel took pity on his friend and decided he’d had his revenge, and he relinquished his attack, moving off of Isaac and sitting next to him in the hay. The red bandana the ex-pirate wore was just barely on his head due to his earlier squirming, and Myarel removed it to ruffle his sweaty, mussed-up hair. Isaac managed to get out an insult while he was catching his breath, covering his face with his hands.
“You’re such… a fuckin’… jerk…” The white-haired man was pinning him with a hand on his chest in seconds, squeezing one hip and running his fingers over the blond’s lower belly. “Am I, now?”
Isaac was laughing hysterically again, frantically pushing at Myarel’s arm. “NOHOHO, STAHAHAHAP, IHI’M SOHOHORRY! AHAHAHAHA!”
Myarel let Isaac go again, returning to ruffling his hair. This time Isaac was silent except for his panting, and eventually he stretched his arms above his head, letting out a yawn. Myarel chuckled, fondly looking down at the boy he considered not just a friend, but a little brother.
“Looks like I tired you out, hm?” Isaac nodded, eyelids fluttering as he tried to stay awake. Myarel snorted and helped Isaac stand up, putting an arm around him to steady his wobbly legs.
“Take my arm.” Isaac did so, and they were instantly inside the living room of Lyn’s farmhouse– Isaac’s room was on the ground floor, while Myarel’s was on the upper floor. Myarel kept his arm around the younger man and helped him to his room.
Isaac looked at the hay covering his clothes and clutched his bandana in his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should really take a shower…” Instantly, Myarel was wiggling his fingers at the other, and he nearly fell backwards while moving away, giggling nervously. “Okay, okay, I’ll goho to sleep!” Myarel seemed satisfied by that statement. He gently squeezed Isaac’s shoulder, a lopsided grin crossing his lips.
“Guten Nacht, Isaac.” He was gone in an instant. Isaac snorted and removed his hay-covered clothes, putting them in his laundry basket, and brushed the hay out of his hair and off of his face before laying down to sleep, only in his boxers. Once he was curled up under his blankets, he was out like a light.
He didn’t notice that Myarel came back after about a half hour just to ruffle his hair and smile fondly at him again.
Myarel- ancient Demon name translating to “gentle” or “he who shows gentility”.
