Summary: Columbus is being a little twerp. Tallahassee decided to teach him a lesson about respecting your elders.
AN: Takes place during the first movie, about 42 mins in
Columbus tried and failed to discreetly apply some of the cologne he’d found. It smelled good enough, and good smells were something he treasured, especially during the apocalypse.
Hopefully Wichita felt the same way.
Tallahassee had been complaining about feeling ‘cooped up’, so they (‘they’ being him, Wichita, Little Rock, and Columbus himself) had stopped at a little country store. After Tallahassee had cleared out the place and unsuccessfully tried to win the award for Zombie Kill of the Week, they’d taken it upon themselves to explore the place. The place was homey, warm—it was nice to feel even a little grounded.
Plus… It gave Columbus an opportunity to think about… other things. Other things meaning the beautiful woman that he was lucky enough to stumble upon on their way to Pacific Playland who went by Wichita. He knew, realistically, that he wasn’t the most appealing to someone like her. So certain things, like this cologne, could hopefully help with that.
But in the middle of rubbing it onto his neck, Tallahassee approached him, and Columbus scrambled to act normal. Don’t panic! Tallahassee didn’t see. He was too interested in those postcards, anyway. Besides, so what if Columbus was smelling cologne? It wasn’t a crime. Not like Tallahassee was gonna figure out the real reason anyway.
Fueled by the claim his brain jumbled together, Columbus turned slightly away from the blond and continued smelling his cologne.
“Perfume?”
Shit.
“What?” Columbus said too fast.
“Is that perfume?” Tallahassee put back his postcard. He didn’t sound judgmental like he usually did, so that was a good thing.
“Um…” Columbus faced Tallahassee. “It’s cologne.” He fought to keep his voice down so Wichita didn’t hear. The last thing he wanted to do was seem desperate. Or pathetic. Especially not pathetic.
“I’m thinkin’...” the older man took a few steps closer, sniffing, “Lancome Magnifique.” He was far too loud for Columbus’ liking.
“Yeah, why don’t you speak up a little? I think they might’ve missed it in Santa Fe.” He motioned to the girls with his hand, trying to discreetly get Tallahassee to pipe down.
Said man turned to look where Wichita was looking at herself in the mirror, trying on a new hat. An open-mouthed grin appeared on his face as he turned back to Columbus.
“Oh ho ho, oh my God.”
“Okay–” Columbus exhaled and shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting on his feet. Tallahassee was yet another person he really, really didn’t want to look pathetic in front of.
“You’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ Wichita.”
Columbus tried to muster up a shake of his head, which came out half hearted and uncertain.
“Hey, wish granted. She spent the last 24 hours fuckin’ us both.” Tallahassee added.
Yeah, okay. Maybe the playing them to steal their guns and car thing (not once but twice) wasn’t the best first impression… But c’mon. She was hot, and she was cool, and, well, not a zombie.
“Hey.” Tallahassee leaned forward to sniff Columbus, who tried to dodge. Tallahassee just laughed. “Good luck now, Petunia.”
Filled with spite, embarrassment, and absolutely zero brain cells, Columbus grabbed a bottle of cologne and spritzed it on the back of Tallahassee’s neck as he turned to walk away.
Never before had Columbus seen him turn around that fast. And while he had seen the I’m-gonna-kick-your-scrawny-ass-into-the-god-damn-stratosphere look before, he hadn’t seen it this intense.
Oh, he fucked up. He fucked up bad.
Columbus was as stiff as a board, and his voice came out meek, shaky, and scared (because he was meek, shaky, and scared!). “...Okay. Let me begin my three-part apology by saying that I think you’re a wonderful human with great potential—”
“It’s okay,” Tallahassee cut him off, seeming to take pity. “But FYI. I beat wholesale ass for a lot less than that.”
“I’m sure.”
“You get, uh… 45% power,” Tallahassee decided. “Or I could do more. Maybe a bloody nose will impress her, eh?” he teased, poking Columbus in the ribs.
Columbus, who was braced for impact, certainly didn’t expect to be poked, and not in a spot that made him flinch like he did. But he just shook it off and reminded himself that he was about to get punched by none other than his new friend(?).
“45’s fine,” he said with a quick nod.
“No, no…” Tallahassee’s mouth stretched into a grin after taking a couple slow steps forward. “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” Columbus tried, countering Tallahassee’s steps with ones of his own, though his went steadily backwards.
“You ticklish, Columbus?”
Shit. Again.
“Me? Ticklish? Psh. That’s— That’s just— Stupid.” He was trying so hard to act like he wasn’t affected at all, and it clearly wasn’t working because Tallahassee was still strolling towards him.
“Y’know, I don’t think I wanna punt you anymore.”
“No no! The— The 45%’s fine!” Columbus was backed up against the wall this time, hands up defensively.
Tallahassee sucked air through his teeth. “See, but this option’s a whole lot more fun for me.”
“I’ll take the 45%! Really!”
That made Tallahassee pause. “...You’d rather get your shit rocked, featuring my fist and your punkass face, than get tickled?”
“...Maybe?”
There was a pause, one where Columbus thought Tallahassee might just take mercy on him.
…Why the fuck would he think that?
“Too bad, Ohio.”
Columbus opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a strangled “AH-!” once Tallahassee grabbed him and started scribbling his fingers along the younger man’s ribs. He broke out into high pitched laughter and pressed into the wall, wishing he could meld with the wood. He’d forgotten just how ticklish he was, and the fact that Tallahassee was the one finding it out was horrible.
Speaking of, Tallahassee let out a laugh. “How the hell are you this damn ticklish, kid?”
Yeah, could a zombie break in right about now? That’d be really great timing.
“SHUHuhut— Ahaha! Shut uHUHup mahAHAHAhAN!” he got out, pushing at Tallahassee’s shoulders, which did diddly-dick.
“Better be glad zombies aren’t goin’ after ticklishness,” Tallahassee remarked. The man was smiling, and he clearly knew exactly what he was doing. Odd—he didn’t seem like the type to really know how to tickle someone.
“T-Tallahahaha- TallahaHAHAHASEHEHEHEE!” The blond man’s fingers had wandered up to Columbus’ underarms, and boy was that a bad area. His legs gave out, and he slowly sank to the floor.
But this didn’t deter Tallahassee, of course. In fact, it seemed to do the opposite. “Ha! Gold mine!”
Columbus tried to squirm away on his back, but Tallahassee just straddled him and continued the assault. Columbus was trying to defend himself, he really was. But it was really, really hard from how tickly Tallahassee’s fingers were.
“LEHEHEHEheheave mYHYHY— AHhAH— AhahARMPIHIHITS ALohoHONE!” Columbus shrieked, his curls a messy mop on top of his head.
“You’re dramatic.” But he did pull his hands out from underneath Columbus’ arms, giving him a little breather.
The breather was cut abruptly short when Tallahassee started kneading into the younger man’s hips. Columbus shrieked and began to buck his hips, writhing in ticklish agony.
“Here too?? Damn, kid.” Tallahassee chuckled. “What’s your face all red for?”
“IHIHIHIHIHIT’S— NAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!”
“I’m lookin’ right at it, yes it is! What, you embarrassed? Huh? Ah, gitchy-gitchy-goo,” he said exaggeratingly, clearly trying to fluster Columbus more than he already was.
And shit, it was working.
“SHUHUhuhuT THEHEHEHE F— fuhuHUHUHUCK UHUHUHUP!!” he laughed. He was trying to cover his ticklish spots up and to shove him away, but his efforts proved futile. He was far too ticklish for just a single part of his hips to be a target, and Tallahassee seemed to be having far too much fun with this to allow himself to be shoved away. He switched from squeezing the sides, to scribbling over the bone, back to kneading the area, basically doing everything to drive Columbus nuts.
“Okay, okay, breathe, damn,” Tallahassee chuckled as he stopped, apparently taking the hint from Columbus smacking against his leg. Columbus hugged himself and took in greedy gulps of air, face hot and mouth full of leftover giggles.
When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed that Tallahassee was examining a patch of skin on his arm rather intensely. “...What? What is it?” His smile faded.
“...Shit.”
“What?” Columbus asked again, trying to sit up. But he still had roughly 170 pounds of Tennessee on top of him.
“One of ‘em got me.”
“I— What? A zombie?”
“Yeah. Ah, shit… Shit, I can feel myself turning.” He coughed repeatedly, hacking into his hand as the transformation began.
Columbus was freaking out, trying to scramble out from underneath Tallahassee. But the older man’s legs squeezed around Columbus, preventing any form of escape. “Shit— Shit!”
Tallahassee suddenly snarled and grabbed Columbus’ shoulders. “Grrr. I’m Tallahassee the zombie! And I feast on ticklish little twerps who need to learn to respect their elders!”
It didn’t really register in Columbus’ head that, no, Tallahassee wasn’t bitten and he wasn’t transforming, until the blond buried his face into the side of the brunet’s neck and started gently pretending to bite him. Columbus’ back arched and he shrieked yet again, laughing and shouting giggly pleads that fell onto deaf ears. Tallahassee’s scruff didn’t help, neither did the fact that he was making ridiculous and over-the-top growling noises.
“TAHAHAHA— TahHAHAHALLAHAHAHA—” He couldn’t even get out his attacker’s full name from how much he was laughing.
“What was that, huh?” Tallahassee said before blowing a raspberry on the other side of Columbus’ neck. The younger man squealed, his legs kicking helplessly. The next raspberry was right underneath Columbus’ ear, making his laughter rise in pitch.
Tallahassee sat up and spat to the side. “Eugh, that perfume tastes nasty!” As he went to go for another raspberry, Columbus lifted his arms to cover himself.
“Wait! Wahahahahait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!”
He heard his friend (!) chuckle. “Ah, you’re pathetic,” he said, but he sounded a lot less pissed off than he usually did when he insulted Columbus—as if this time, his voice was lifted by laughter, which it was.
He stood up and offered Columbus a hand, who cautiously took it and allowed himself to be hauled up. He let out a breath, trying to swallow giggles and hold onto any miniscule shred of dignity that might be left.
“Now how the fuck are you this ticklish, huh?”
“I— I don’t know, I just—”
“Hey! You boys done?” Wichita called from the front of the store.
“Just about. Had to hand Columbus’ ass to him,” Tallahassee responded as he walked to where she was, shooting a grin at Columbus. His cheeks still burned, and Wichita smirked.
“Yeah. We heard,” Little Rock snarked.
“I’m surprised you didn’t attract a horde,” Wichita added.
Columbus’ eyes darted to the side. So much for looking cool.
“Before we go…” Tallahassee grabbed one of their hammers, looking around the shop with a grin.
After the four beautifully destroyed the shop (because, hey, in the true Tallahassee fashion… breaking shit was fun!), Columbus mentally added another rule along with rule #32: Enjoy the little things.
Rule #33: Never let anyone—dead or alive—get to your tickle spots.
