𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨:
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.4k
𝙖/𝙣: FIC ONE OUT OF TWO <333 happy birthday @mars-hi1009 !! i hope this is how you wanted it even if i was more than a week late 🥺 i hope you have the greatest year :D
𝙩/𝙬: teasing, rough tickles, gang tickles
𝒍𝒆𝒆: seonghwa
𝙡𝙚𝙧: ateez
𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v–143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry
@channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117 @minnielvrr @reginald-stay09 @lunalattae @just-hyunlix-things @skzrosey @kijaswrldd
@shinywombatcrusade @heartsforvia @kawaiihaille20 @mars-hi1009 @gnabnahcnova @loveskz2901
Seonghwa had just reached the couch when his knees buckled and he groaned as he sank into the cushions. His head was thrown back dramatically, his eyes closed, and his arms flopped out to his sides. He had been running on fumes and taking care of everyone but himself for a week, as shown by the rumpled long sleeves, slightly frizzy hair, and faint dark circles under his eyes.
He had ensured that San had consumed some vegetables. He had remained up until two in the morning, helping Yeosang recover from an existential crisis related to choreography. After a glitter explosion that might have rivaled a solar flare, he had assisted Wooyoung in cleaning up his room. Additionally, he had done Mingi's laundry this morning since Mingi had—again—forgotten.
But today, the second they walked through the door after rehearsal, Seonghwa announced, “Don’t speak to me. Don’t look at me. I am a fossil.” Then he threw himself onto the couch, arms spread, one leg half-hanging off the cushions.
He lay there like a man defeated by life, phone face down on the floor, a blanket lazily tossed over his legs. His shirt had ridden up just enough to reveal a sliver of his soft tummy, rising and falling gently as he breathed. His eyes were shut, lashes resting delicately on his cheeks, his lips barely parted. He looked so peaceful.
Too peaceful, in Hongjoong's humble opinion.
The leader stood at the foot of the couch, arms crossed, studying him with a quiet smirk. His hyung seemed like the physical embodiment of "I’ve done enough."
Maybe he had. But something about the exposed tummy and the little huff of breath Seonghwa let out was just too tempting.
So, Hongjoong grabbed a plastic pen from the coffee table, sat down beside Seonghwa’s legs, and leaned in innocently. “I’m making a sun,” he whispered, gently tracing a wide circle around Seonghwa’s belly button.
Seonghwa twitched. His brows furrowed slightly, and he let out a breathy “Hmm?”
“And here’s a cat,” Hongjoong continued, drawing two triangle ears on either side of the "sun" with one fingertip. A barely-there hiccup of a laugh escaped Seonghwa’s lips. Hongjoong’s grin grew mischievous. He began lightly scribbling with his fingertips—gentle and slow—tracing imaginary clouds, stars, and hearts across Seonghwa’s sensitive tummy.
He could feel the muscles tensing beneath his fingers. Seonghwa turned his head away, trying hard not to laugh, but the little trembles in his chest gave him away. Seonghwa’s abs jerked, and a helpless little "pffft—!" of a giggle escaped before he clamped his lips shut.
Hongjoong gasped mockingly. “Did the kitty just meow? Careful, it could get laugh lines~” He wiggled his fingers now, abandoning the pretend drawing entirely and going straight in with soft, dancing scribbles.
Seonghwa squirmed, biting his lip hard. “Hongjoohoong… dohohon’t—!!”
“Stohop!” Seonghwa writhed, trying not to laugh too loudly. “I’m seriously exhausted!”
“Then don’t fight it,” Hongjoong sang, rolling back onto his belly and gently starting to flutter his fingers around the button again. “Let the art soothe you.”
That was when Seonghwa gave in. A hiccupy giggle escaped him, and his hands flew down to weakly grab Hongjoong’s wrists. “Yohohou’re not helping!”
“Aww, the kitty meowed again,” Hongjoong teased, dragging his fingers up to the soft undersides of Seonghwa’s ribs, which made him burst into helpless laughter.
“YAHAAHAH—Joongie!” Seonghwa snorted, twisting away with a full-body flinch. “Nohoho—NOHOHOHOnooo—!”
His laughter was high-pitched and raw. Seonghwa’s arms flailed, his legs kicked the blanket off, and his body bucked side to side as he shrieked with laughter.
“WHAHAT IS THIHIHIS?!” Seonghwa howled, legs thrashing as he grabbed Hongjoong’s wrists. “THIHIHIS ISN’T A SUHUHUHN—”
“Nope,” Hongjoong agreed cheerfully, “this is payback. For ignoring your own limits.”
He suddenly skittered his nails fast up Seonghwa’s sides, and the older man nearly exploded with a shrill, pitchy scream.
“JOHOHOONG—STOHOHOP—STOP!!”
“Hmmmm…” Hongjoong tapped a finger to his chin while still scribbling mercilessly into Seonghwa’s quivering belly. “Nah.”
“YOHOHOU JERK—!!”
He let out a high-pitched wheeze and tried to curl up, but Hongjoong grabbed his wrists and held them gently above his head.
“You’re gonna hurt me,” Seonghwa squealed, arching up as he laughed. “You traitor!”
That was when the door creaked open.
“…Hyung?” San blinked into the room, followed closely by Wooyoung and Mingi, all holding drinks or snacks. They paused to take in the chaos.
Wooyoung’s face lit up instantly. “Is that—”
“Tickle art,” Hongjoong said proudly. “And I’m accepting guest collaborators.”
All of them stared at the absolute meltdown on the couch—Seonghwa thrashing under Hongjoong’s merciless hands, hair a mess, shirt bunched up to his chest, his squeals bouncing off the walls.
San dropped his drink and sprinted over before Seonghwa could even think to escape.
"NO!!" Seonghwa shrieked as his traitorous members dashed to take their spots around him. Wooyoung happily plopped onto his ankles like it was a seat made for him.
“Where’s the worst spot?” he asked sweetly.
“Nowhere!! There’s no spot! I’m NOT ticklish I WAS FINE!”
“Wrong answer~,” Wooyoung sang, and yanked off both socks with one dramatic pull.
Seonghwa howled.
“NONONO WAIT—WAIT—WOOYOUNG!!”
Wooyoung flicked at Seonghwa’s arch with one finger. “These little feet are gonna get it.”
And they did.
Without mercy, Wooyoung dug in. Ten fingers, rough and fast, scribbling all over the arches and balls of Seonghwa’s feet. The reaction was instant.
“NOHOHOHOHO!! PLEHEHEHEASE!! WOOYOUNG!! WOOYOOUNGAAHAAHHAA!!”
“I bet these ribs are killer, huh?” San whispered, then dug in with brutal knuckles.
Seonghwa lost it.
The sound that escaped him was a mix between a hiccup and a banshee scream.
“SAHAHAHAAHAHAN, NOOHOHOHO!” His voice turned completely ragged.
“Too late!” San dove in behind Wooyoung and grabbed both of Seonghwa’s hips, thumbs pressing into the exact muscle spots Hongjoong had pointed out to him last month.
Seonghwa let out a horrendous shriek and thrashed so hard he nearly flung the blanket off the couch.
San didn’t let up. “What’s wrong, hyung? Ticklish?~”
“YOU GUHUHUHUYS ARE INSANE!!” Seonghwa kicked helplessly, pinned down, squirming like a worm under all the hands on him.
“I think this spot is especially bad,” Wooyoung said with glee, drumming his fingers under Seonghwa’s heel.
Seonghwa’s back arched, his eyes squeezed shut as he shrieked like a kettle boiling over. “WOOYOUNG–AAHAAHAA, I CAHAN’T TAKE THIHIHIS!”
“Then don’t,” San teased, poking into his armpits. “Just enjoy the laughter.”
Yeosang wandered in next. Calm, curious. Normal. “What’s going on here?”
Hongjoong, completely unbothered, answered, “Seonghwa hyung was being selfless again. We’re undoing that.”
Yeosang sighed. “Poor thing,” he said, then walked over and started skittering his fingers under Seonghwa’s neck.
“NAAAHAHAAHAHHH!” Seonghwa squealed, thrashing. “NoHOH–NOT THE NEHEHEHECK!”
His laughter was loud, wild, and broken, the kind that wouldn’t stop even when he tried to speak. He was crying now, tears of laughter spilling down his cheeks, his face flushed deep pink, every part of him betraying him as it flailed and jumped with every well-aimed tickle.
“Someone help, he’s gonna explode,” Yunho said between laughs.
Then came Jongho. Stoic, calm. A banana in one hand. Mingi's jaw dropped next to him.
“What’s the situation?” He asked, grinning.
“Utter meltdown,” Yeosang said. He looked down fondly at the screaming elder beneath him. "...Yeah, he's doing just fine."
Every inch of Seonghwa's body was jerking. His laughter came in wild, squeaky wails, limbs thrashing uselessly. His hands tried to grab someone—anyone—but he was too far gone. His body had gone limp, twitching helplessly under a dozen relentless fingers.
The members gradually pulled away, leaving Seonghwa sprawled like a limp octopus across the cushions. His chest heaved, and his mouth was open in a dazed grin.
Hongjoong sat back on his heels and gently fixed Seonghwa’s shirt.
“Feeling better?”
Seonghwa couldn’t speak. He just panted and blinked slowly. When he finally let out a hoarse, “You’re evil,” his voice cracked.
“Loved though,” Hongjoong teased, brushing the sweat from his forehead.
Seonghwa reached weakly for him, and Hongjoong leaned down, hugging him tight.
“Rest now, sunshine,” he whispered. “You’ve earned it.”
Seonghwa, still twitching slightly from leftover giggles, finally closed his eyes. He felt surrounded by warmth, affection, chaos, and a couch full of fucking gremlins.
