TickleTober Day 9: Ganged Up On (Supernatural, Team Free Love)
Words: 1,000
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One star, do not recommend. That’s my review.
At least, that’s my review for Dean, Gabe, and Cas when they’ve all caught whatever bug that makes them all team up against me. It’s communicable like a virus, and I’m pretty sure either Gabe or my brother is Patient Zero every time. It’s not Cas’ fault, not really; hell, I’ve been infected and drawn up battle lines against him plenty of times. It’s just that Dean and Gabriel are these forces of nature… maybe more like forces of goofiness. But yeah, I don’t fault Cas, even though he’s the one holding me down right now.
“Get off me,” I grunt, as if my words are worth a damn even when I know they’re not.
Let me tell you, there are few things more unsettling than a seraph, an archangel, and a big brother (who knows all your weaknesses) all wearing mischievous expressions that are going to be resolved one way, and one way only, and of which you’re the target.
This is probably when I’d start praying for deliverance, but Chuck sure doesn’t give a damn, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t take my side.
I modify my review slightly. Two stars, because God Himself isn’t here to ruin me, and that’s something, I guess.
But Cas has me flat on my back with my wrists pinned firmly over my head, and while I’ll stick to not faulting him for it, I am going to blame him for the wings he just decided to bring to the party. That’s just uncalled for, and I tell him so.
“My hands are otherwise occupied,” Cas answers with a shrug. Like freaking feathers aren’t even worse. But then he bends down to give my forehead a little kiss, and ugh, that always works to make me forgive him, even when he’s being a bandwagon asshole.
“Don’t be mad, snookums,” Gabe says. “We’re only doing this for your own grumpy good, you know.”
“Call me snookums again and see what happens,” I say, even though I have to fight down a smile. It’s not fair; he knows that stupid word makes me laugh. He knows a lot of things that make me laugh.
“Sure thing, snookums.”
And nothing happens, because I can’t do shit. He’ll get his later, though. Maybe I’ll even be able to drum up some help; it’s more rare, but I can be a force of nature, too… despite current appearances.
Dean plops down next to me, cross-legged and grinning. Screw that smile for being just as magnetic as the rest of him. He boops my nose.
“Ready, Sammy?”
I am never ready.
His fingers go for my collarbones at the same time Gabe’s start scribbling my stomach, and I am an instant ticklish mess. Laughing, I try to yank my arms down, but Cas holds me tight. My eyes are already squeezed shut so I don’t see them coming, but the wrists of Cas’ wings lean on my forearms so he can lazily reach out with his alulae to tickle behind my ears.
I’d call alulae the worst, but Dean’s fingers are way too practiced to get knocked out of the competition that easily, and Gabe is just Gabe and cornered the market on tickling before any of us, Cas included, even existed. But still, alulae are just unfair – wing-fingers with as much dexterity as human ones but covered in feathers? Mean. There’s an alula flicking behind each of my ears, traveling down the line of my jaw and back up, over and over, and it makes me giggle like a maniac while shivers wrack my entire body.
My shirt gets pulled up to expose my stomach. I barely have the chance to gasp a breath before Gabe blows a big, fat, blubbering raspberry right on my navel, and all my air explodes out in a screech of laughter. Dean’s hands dive into the opening and crawl under the bunched-up shirt around my chest, tickling like there’s no tomorrow. My bare skin can’t take it, especially when he starts spidering my armpits. I’m wailing and wheezing, kicking and thrashing, but the three tickle monsters that have their claws in me are high on my laughter and low on mercy.
Sure, I was maybe a bit of a “sourpuss” earlier (Dean’s word, not mine), but is this torture really justified?
They’d say yes. I’d plead the fifth.
It’s kind of incredible how the entire rest of the world ceases to exist when these three smother me, whether with sweet affection or relentless tickling. I never know how bad I need it, that distraction, until it’s pouring over me with all the fierceness of those who decide the world needs saving and then actually do it. It’s okay for me to be puny and overwhelmed under that kind of deluge. I can’t help but love them for it.
Gabe abandons my stomach in favor of squeezing my knees. My femur nearly smashes his face in, but he catches my kick and folds my leg toward my chest, tickling my trapped kneecap with horrible skittering fingers. Cas’ alulae slip into my shirtsleeves to dust my pits when Dean’s fingers move on to crab-clawing my ribs instead, and I’m completely lost. Gravity isn’t real and I’m not even in my body anymore but I’m still cry-laughing my head off because it tickles and tickles and I’m only human, I need a break…!
“Okay, okay, shhh…”
I can’t even tell who’s talking or who’s petting my hair. I’m still wired and twitchy.
“Easy. You can relax now.”
I know it’s true, even though my body is still on alert. My lungs fill shakily; I hold them full for a moment before letting everything flow back out – air and tension both.
Dean’s warm palm rubs my stomach in gentle circles. Gabe’s body heat is a blanket down my side. Cas’ wings have been replaced with his hands, massaging my temples and combing back along my scalp. It’s the polar opposite of everything I’ve just experienced. I sink into the calm, allowing myself to be soothed and cradled.
I commissioned a Gabriel/Kevin tickle fic recently... I requested extra fluff, I think it turned out great! https://zmediaoutlet.tumblr.com/post/631391050206986240/in-support-of-wildfire-relief-peromy-march
