A/N: Perc’ahlia gang rise! They both seem the type to be ticklish but in denial about it and embarrassed. Revenge would be wicked.
Words: 480
—
Percy’s fingers work their way down along Vex’s shoulder blades, tending to the sore muscles. As he works out a particularly tense knot, she lets out a delighted little sigh of relief.
Smiling down at her, Percy leans in to kiss the skin along the back of her neck. It shudders under his lips, another small noise escaping her throat—this time —she quickly transforms it into a sound of pleasure. It’s a clever disguise, but one that Percy could see through any time with ease.
“Ticklish there? Sorry.”
“What? No, not at all, darling.”
He leans back down to her neck; unlucky for Vex’ahlia, she can’t see the smirk on his face from her angle.
She hears him take a deep breath, tries to turn to ask him what he’s doing, and then the room erupts with noise. Loudest of them all is Vex’s shriek of surprised laughter. There’s the thumping of squirming limbs against the mattress, the silly sound rippling out of Percival’s mouth and across the skin of her neck, the laugh he lets out a moment later when he pulls back and starts massaging again, pretending as though nothing happened.
“You little bastard!” Vex hisses, barely holding in a laugh. She turns, pushes him away, and he’s smiling wide as he falls next to her on the bed.
Percy turns to take her in—blushing and failing to hold back a smile.
“‘Not at all’ ticklish, hmm?” He prods. “That seemed rather ticklish.” He skitters his fingers along the backs of her ribs.
“Not.” She digs in her heels, biting her lip to fight back a smile. Then, Vex’ahlia is on him, fingers wiggling deftly into his sides.
Neither of them are fighting off their laughter now, Percival from the tickling nails climbing under his nightshirt and Vex from the high of turning the tables on him.
“See how you fucking like it–” Percy hears her grumble before she’s ripping his shirt up and throwing the bottom of the fabric onto his chest and in his face.
“NO–” He utters, pawing the shirt back away from his face just as she leans in to blow raspberry after raspberry on his stomach.
Percy’s hands are tangled in her hair a moment later, his feet beating against the mattress as hers were just a minute earlier. He cries out a desperate laugh as she takes her time, fucks with him a bit longer, until he calls out. “Fuck, mercy! Please!”
She relents, satisfied in her victory to make up for the prematurely ended massage.
Percy heaves a few breaths. “Remind me never, ever to piss you off.”
“Better not even dream of it.”
She’s not sure she wants to push for him to get back to the massage tonight, though… despite what he may say, the temptation of revenge would be much too inviting, and she didn’t feel like taking any losses tonight.
