tickletober day 11- "hug"
word count: 2,894 words
before ANYTHING else, i have to give the most credit ever to @radio-navlee - i took a lot of inspiration from this post of hers about dadvid (dad!david lol) and max tickle hc's, and it straight up inspired me to write for this show that i genuinely love so much. this fic may be kind of ooc in a few places, but i has a lot of fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy!
This whole thing was so stupid.
Max didn't even know why he was trying in the first place. Ever since David started fostering him, the camp counselor was being stupidly affectionate around him. Ruffling his hair, squeezing his shoulder as he passed Max at the dinner table, covering him with a blanket when Max pretended to fall asleep on the couch. It pissed him off, and he didn't even totally hate it, which pissed him off more. Fuck David.
And the thing that was pissing him off the most? David's stupid hugs. Not because Max was, like, too traumatized and touch-starved by his shitty neglectful parents or whatever. He didn't need David to be soft or gentle or whatever the fuck-- he wasn't made of glass. It didn't take long for the man to realize that, and it was only a matter of time before he was swooping Max up into a hug at least once a day. Of course Max would snarl and curse and try to escape-- it's how he was.
But what was so stupid, what was genuinely so ridiculous and embarrassing it put Max on guard to even think about it, was that... he was starting to want David's hugs. Because David's hugs could tickle.
When he first noticed it, it was an accident, of course: David wrapped him in his arms, even picked him up and swung him around a little. Max was used to this. What he wasn't used to, though, was the way David's hands on his sides gave him a little squeeze, his fingers curling in just so to keep Max from falling to the ground. David didn't even seem to notice he did it; Max couldn't notice anything else.
So of course he screamed and kicked David in the nuts, dropping to the floor as David fell to his knees. Later, after he recovered, David took this a subtle sign that Max didn't want anymore hugs.
Which he didn't.
Except maybe later that night, when he was in the spare room on the little futon sofa David swore they'd replace with a real bed as soon as possible, he couldn't stop thinking about the rush of feeling that went through his body when he'd been tickled. David hadn't mentioned anything about it, so Max was pretty sure he didn't know what he'd done, which somehow made it better and worse at the same time. It made it better because Max didn't have to defend himself from any future attacks, didn't have to protest against any teasing that David was sure to throw his way if he knew Max was ticklish.
But it also made it worse, because if Max wanted it to happen again, he would have to be the one to do something about it.
Hence the single stupidest scheme Max had come up with since leaving Camp Campbell: try to get David to accidentally tickle him during a hug again.
God, fuck David.
~
His plan started the next morning when he came out for breakfast. David was there, chipper as ever and literally whistling as he made his coffee. He must've heard Max's footsteps over his whistles, though, because he stopped and turned around with a smile already on his face.
"Hey, kid- oh!"
Max didn't let David finish his sentence before he wrapped his arms tightly around the tall man's midsection. He refused to look up, instead just waiting for David to return the hug.
He didn't. Max waited several beats longer than he ever normally would before peeking upwards.
David has a look on his face that was a perfect mix of shock, joy, and concern. His arms were half-lifted in the air, like he was afraid of even touching Max.
"Max...?" He spoke like he was trying not to startle him. "What's wrong?"
Max flushed and yanked his arms away. "Nothing! Fuck off." And with that he shoved David away, snatched the coffee mug off the counter and stalked back to the living room, grateful that his skin color meant his blush wasn't that visible.
Jesus, that was a shitshow. He'd hoped the man's stupidly cheerful demeanor would result in him doing what Max wanted right away, but David also had the annoying tendency of being very overly careful and hyper-aware of Max's whole vibe ever since he realized what grade-A shitholes his parents were. He probably thought Max was having a brain aneurysm or something.
Max slurped his coffee in thought. He'd have to try again, and David better get it right next time.
~
David didn't get it right next time, or the next time, or the time after that. Fuck David!
It had been a week of these stupid embarrassing moments, of Max hugging David and taking too long to pull away in the hopes the man might take the hint. It only took a couple attempts for David to chill out when Max hugged him, and after that things were pretty much back to normal: he'd give Max a quick squeeze around the shoulders, but never tried to pick him up again. This happened multiple times a day, and Max didn't know what was worse: David thinking he constantly wanted hugs, or David finding out what he actually wanted was tickles.
Tonight, they were watching a movie, some PG-13 thing that was one of the few genres that they could both agree on (romantic comedy). They were sitting side by side on the couch, wrapped in blankets and trying to balance the popcorn bowl in between them.
Suddenly David made a thoughtful noise. "Hey! I just remembered, we have raisins and peanuts in the kitchen-- what do you say we turn this popcorn into trail mix?"
"Don't you dare ruin this popcorn for me, David," Max shot back. "It's not meant to be healthy, it's meant to be salty and buttery and make you shit your pants after."
David raised an eyebrow. "What if I throw in some pretzels and M&M's, too?"
Max wavered.
"... Only if they're the curly pretzels," he decided, flopping back onto the couch as David removed himself from his blanket burrito and headed toward the kitchen. The movement jostled Max's own blanket, pulling it to the side, and a sudden shiver racked its way up his body. Jesus, why did David keep it so cold in here?
Without thinking about it Max grabbed the blanket David had been using and threw it over himself, burrowing deeper into the softness. His signature hoodie wasn't just for looks-- he actually did get cold pretty easily.
When David came back, Max pretended to be laser focused on the TV screen.
"Now, what do we have here?" David asked, bemused and calm. "Didn't know you were a blanket thief, kiddo."
"Fuck off, I'm cold," Max replied, "and I'm a kid so you can't take it away from me."
"Language! And I wasn't going to take it back." David stepped closer and placed the trail mix bowl on the coffee table. "But do you think we can share it?"
Max looked up at him, glaring. David returned the look with a patient smile.
"... Fine."
He stayed purposefully still as David rearranged the blankets to accommodate both him and Max. The few inches of space between them were gone, and now Max found himself pressed against David's side, his arm throw over the back of the couch behind Max's head.
Max hesitated. He didn't wanna try his stupid plan anymore tonight, especially since he was pretty much giving up on it since David was so dense he couldn't even figure out what Max actually wanted from all those hugs. Still... he did want to be comfortable. So after a minute of indecision, he rested his head against David's shoulder, curling his legs up onto the couch until he was practically a ball under David's arm.
He expected David to tense up, or freak out, or ask him if he's okay again. But to his surprise, none of that happened. Instead, David immediately shifted his arm to wrap around Max's shoulders instead. It happened so quickly Max thought he'd planned it.
He looked at David suspiciously. "Did you plan this?"
To his surprise, David snorted. "Me? You're the one who stole the blanket, kiddo."
"You left it behind and you didn't call fives. It's my blanket now."
"Oh, is that right?"
Before Max even knew what was happening, David's hand was on his side, scribbling against his ribs like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He couldn't help it; he gasped, gripping the fabric tight in his fists, and shoved his face into David's shoulder.
Immediately the motion stopped. After a beat, Max peeked up to see David smiling sheepishly at him.
"Sorry," he said. Then he just... kept watching the movie.
That was it. Max shot a hand out of the blanket nest, grabbed the closest pillow he could, and whacked David in the face with it.
"Ahh!" David screamed, more in shock than in pain. His hands went to his face, checking for injuries, and he looked at Max with wide eyes. "What was that?"
"Why did you stop?"
Max knew, he knew he was being weird, but he didn't care. He kept his annoyed face even as David's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Why did I stop what?"
Jesus. Christ. "The thing you were just doing."
"The thing I was just doing?" His face morphed slowly from confusion to surprise. "You mean-- when I tickled you?"
Max flopped back to the couch, arms crossed. "Ugh. Yes, that."
"You're annoyed that I... stopped tickling you?" Oh, fuck. Now David's voice had an inkling of... fondness, or something stupid like that. Max was beginning to regret this.
"I had thought that's what happened the other day..." David said slowly. "Before you, you know. Kicked me."
Max shrugged. "I don't have the best reflexes, okay?"
"I see," David said. He had a thoughtful look on his face. "So... is that why you've been hugging me so much this week? Because you wanted me to do it again?"
God, he sounded so earnest it made Max wanna hurl.
"I do not wanna talk about this," he huffed, staring at the TV and pretending his face wasn't on fire.
"Max, it's okay!" God dammit, he could hear the laughter in David's voice. "Kiddo, buddy, it's okay, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you, I'm not judging you. I'm just surprised! I mean, you were always so grumpy at camp, I just never would've thought that it's something you'd like. It's actually really--"
"Don't you dare!"
"Cute!"
Max glowered. "Shut the fuck up, camp man!"
"Okay, okay!" David said, raising his hands in defeat. "I'll stop, I promise. But... Max, I'm not gonna tickle you if you keep telling me to stop. I don't like playing unless I know you're still having fun. So I'm sorry, but if you want me to tickle you, you're going to need to tell me."
This was actually hell. Fuck David, for real.
Max couldn't even look at him now. His eyes were locked on his fingers, twiddling with his hoodie strings.
"... Do I have to say it out loud?" he mumbled, half hoping David wouldn't hear him.
To his surprise, David didn't respond right away. Max looked at him only to find David was already watching him in thought.
"Here," he finally said. David leaned back, and while keeping eye contact with Max, rested his arm in the same position on the back of the couch again.
Max hesitated. Then he scampered back forward and resumed his place leaning against David's side, letting David wrap his arm around his shoulders again.
"Is this okay?" David asked, and Max was about to swear at him again before he felt David's hand once again, this time scratching up and down his arm through his hoodie.
Max gave a full-body shiver. Fuck David. "It's fine."
David nodded, pleased. "I'm gonna put the movie back on."
Max nodded, wary and on edge. He tried to keep watching the movie, but David's blunt nails trailing up and down his upper arm were impossible to ignore. Each brush reached a bit closer to his neck every time, and he fought the urge to twitch.
Suddenly he felt two fingers scratch lightly against his neck. He snapped his head to the side. "David!"
"What's wrong?" David asked, sounding far too pleased with himself. "This is what you wanted, right?" Before Max could even answer there was another hand on his stomach, scribbling and wiggling haphazardly over the blanket. Even with the layers, Max couldn't help but squirm. Giggles started falling out of his mouth without his permission.
"Awwwww," David cooed, "are you ticklish there, Maxy?"
Max shook his head, not even in response to the question, just to try to get some of his nervous energy out. David's hand left his neck and reappeared at his side, curling into a claw and scribbling blindly wherever he could reach.
Squeals of laughter rung through the air. Max's body didn't even know how to react with all the sensations, and he ending up curling even closer to David's side, shoving his face into David's shoulder as he tried to muffle his giggles. David tsked.
"Maximilian," he said in a faux-stern voice. "Why are you trying to hide? I'm only tickling you."
Suddenly he stopped, and Max took deep breaths, only to let out a completely involuntary squeak as he felt David's arms wrapping around his torso. Without warning he was lifted and shifted until he was on David's lap, wrapped in a hug that coincidentally also left him without any escape routes. He didn't even get a moment to complain about it, however, before David was tickling him again.
"Uh oh, looks like someone forgot their bug spray!" David teased. "Here come the ants!" He walked his fingers up and down the back of Max's ribs, giggling when the action made Max's laughter grow even louder.
"Aw, what's the matter? I'm just tickling you, silly. I thought you liked my tickle hugs!"
Max shoved his fists against David's chest, trying to push away, but he couldn't focus with how badly it tickled. David wrapped his arms tighter around Max's torso until his hands were resting on his sides.
"Do you remember when we learned the Heimlich maneuver?" David asked. Max didn't respond, too busy moving from side to side but finding the hands tickled no matter where he went. "Remember, you wrap your arms around the person, and you squeeze!"
David did just that, except instead of squeezing like they'd learned in safety camp, his hands tazed against Max's sides. Max screamed, throwing his head back and laughing like crazy as David did it again. And again. And again.
"Tickle tickle! Tickle tickle! Tickle tickle!" David chanted in time with his squeezes, his voice going goofy and ridiculous with every squeeze. "Boy, you sure are giggly today, aren't you? You're not just a Mr. Grumpypants, no sir, you're a little cutie pie!"
"Davihihid!" Max whined. He curled forward and shoved his forehead against David's shoulder, only to jump and squeal when he felt the counselor blowing cool breath against his ears. Desperate for something to do, he found himself grasping handfuls of David's shirt, not pulling, just holding on tight.
"You still having fun?" Davis asked. Max nodded, his brain too fuzzy to think about being sarcastic. He felt rather than heard David laugh, the action reverberating in his chest as he continued to tickle all over Max's sides and back.
Finally his hands slowed, then stopped.
"Alright, it's okay," he said as Max's peals of laughter fell to just panting giggles. "Let's breathe, okay?"
To Max's surprise he didn't push the kid off his lap; instead he merely adjusted his hands so his palms were lying flat against Max's back. He jumped when they started moving again, but this time David was merely rubbing slow circles in the center of his back, careful to avoid any tickle spots.
Max finally caught his breath, dropping his head once again until his cheek rested on David's shoulder. He coughed once, and David stopped.
"Is your throat okay?" he asked, that annoying concern back in his voice. "Do you want some water, or tea?"
"I'm fine," Max replied hoarsely. He could tell David was unconvinced, so he continued before he could protest. "Later."
That seemed to be enough for David, and after a beat he continued rubbing Max's back. A few seconds later, one of his hands moved upwards until he was cradling the back of Max's head, his fingers brushing gently through his thick black hair.
Jesus, if anyone from camp saw him now, he didn't even know what they'd say. They'd probably just assume he was poisoned again. He'd almost rather be poisoned than let his friends see him now: literally curled up on David's lap after being tickled nearly to tears.
But there was no one else here. Just him and David, and David wasn't going to make fun of him. He'd told Max that, and Max believed him.
He closed his eyes, let the drone of the forgotten movie fall into the background, and drifted off. The last thing he felt was David's arms, still wrapped around him, keeping him safe.
