Tell Me More
heyyyyy everyone
so this is a fic i wrote for the movie challengers, which i am. absolutely obsessed with. and have been since it came out. ask @mushiewrites he knows better than anyone.
obviously, no pressure to read if you’re not into challengers, i really just wrote this fic on a whim for my own enjoyment and i figured i would just post it bc why not 🤷 most likely will be the only challengers fic i post here UNLESS the people want to see more, then i would lmao. but for now, here’s the fic, let me know what you think <3
lee!art, ler!patrick, ler!tashi, 3.9k words
enjoy!!
--
“Tell me more,” Tashi said, the three of them sat in a triangle on the hotel room floor, two half empty beers between them. Her eyes were trained on Patrick’s as she reached down to adjust the bunched up socks by her ankles.
“Uh…” Patrick began, looking over at Art, who looked back at him, cheeks still tilted pink with his fingers covering his shy smile, no doubt still flushed warm from the utterly humiliating story about his personal life– a secret that was meant to stay between him and Patrick until the day they died– that had just been aired out in front of Tashi fucking Duncan. He chuckled, always entertained by Art’s embarrassment, and Art pressed the heel of his hand into his eye with a groan. “I dunno, I think Art’s a little embarrassed,” Patrick teased, reaching over and ruffling his friend’s floppy blonde hair, earning himself a smack to the wrist as Art pushed him away.
”Aww, he’s okay, aren’t you?” Tashi asked condescendingly, turning her attention to the boy in question as he tilted his head back against the bed behind him. She watched him swallow harshly, then look over at her with the same smile he hadn’t been able to wipe off the whole night, shaking his head and rolling his eyes fondly. “I think Art loves this,” She theorized, mostly not serious, but her eyebrows quirked up and her smirk stretched when Art didn’t deny it and Patrick sent a knowing wink her way.
”I think Art wants to punch both of you,” Art replied graciously, his smile growing as he heard the other two laugh, biting his bottom lip. He let out a soft breath, changing positions on the floor, bending one leg up to wrap his arms around his shin and resting his cheek against his knee, looking up through his lashes at Patrick as he continued to try and wrack his brain for more stories to tell Tashi.
Patrick glanced over at him, and he gave him a gentle smile, one that formed smile lines by his eyes and showed his teeth just enough for the little lightbulb above Patrick’s head to flick to life. Patrick gasped, eyebrows raised, breaking out into a cheek splitting grin as he turned his attention back to Tashi.
“Oh, I know exactly what you wanna hear,” Patrick said with a smirk, crossing his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his hands.
“Oh, do you?” She asked, a challenge in her words. Patrick nodded, leaning more onto his left hand, his body angled towards Art like a magnetic pull. His smirk grew, his gaze flicking from Tashi, to Art, back to Tashi, and back to Art. Art furrowed his eyebrows, turning his head to press his lips to his own knee instead, just as confused as Tashi was about where Patrick was going with this. Patrick turned his head back to her, keeping his eyes on his friend until the last possible second, before he finally let them in on whatever secret he had in mind.
“Our sweet little Art over here is insanely ticklish,” Patrick said, blunt and teasing and making Art’s breath halt in his chest almost painfully. The room was silent for all of five seconds, the broken air conditioner rattling harshly against the frame of the open window, Art’s heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage at the sudden admission.
“…What?” Tashi said, in disbelief, a smile neither man had seen from her yet that night gracing her features– a smile Patrick recognized from watching her matches. She smiled like that on the court, confident, cocky; she smiled like that when she was playing a good game of tennis, when she was winning.
“What?” Art replied immediately after, eyes wide, lifting his head up from his knee, grip tightening on his shin and back stiffening as he froze in place.
“I’m serious.” His eyes met Art’s for barely a second, just to narrow at him smugly, before they were back on Tashi so he could continue. “He always has been, since we were kids, but a lot of people, y’know… either, like, grow out of it or it at least changes and differs from then as they’re older, right?” He earned a hum from Tashi, who had now looked over at Art, but he had his eyes fixed on his friend who had once again kicked him directly in the balls just for the hell of it.
“Art,” She said, as if she was talking to a scared puppy. He slowly looked over at her, his shocked expression unchanged, and she continued. “Is this true?”
“…I think we need more ice,” was his response, before standing up from his spot on the floor.
“We have an entire bucket,” Patrick pointed out, the smirk on his face smug enough to make Art want to kick it right off him.
“Well, maybe we need two,” He responded, turning towards the door in an attempt to escape, to go out into the hallway and do God knows what until he assumed it was safe to enter the room again– though, knowing Patrick, he would probably have a better chance walking all the way home.
Patrick shot himself up from the floor, his body whizzing past Tashi with a mischievous giggle before any of them could process it, and suddenly Art felt two arms around his waist and he was being lifted a few inches off the ground.
“FUCK–“ Art yelled, his legs instinctively curling before stretching out to try to get his footing back, fingers digging into Patrick’s arms around him. “Patrick!” He scolded, able to get his bare feet back on the floor, planting all his weight down and making it harder for the other to move him.
“Just let it happen!” Patrick yelled as he and Art fought for the upper hand. He shoved Art with his shoulder, able to knock him off balance for a moment, one leg slipping out from under him as he was yanked back towards the beds. Art grunted at the force, lips pressed into a determined line as he fought to hide his smile, twisting his upper body so he could clamp his elbow down on the side of Patrick’s head, pinning it under his arm and completing the headlock with a righteous chuckle. “Oh, you little–“ Patrick grumbled, leaning into the position, folding himself practically in half so he could swing his arm around to take out the back of Art’s knees.
“Shit–!” Art gasped, his knees giving out from the impact and knocking him down enough for Patrick to throw him halfway over his shoulder, just enough to carry him against his will. “Ow, what the hell?!” Art complained, voice strained from how the air was taken from his lungs with the movements. Art squirmed as much as he could, pushing himself off Patrick’s shoulders and falling half down his back, but Patrick remedied this by dropping Art’s legs and immediately hooking his arm under one of his knees instead, making Art yelp in shock and grab onto Patrick’s– his, come to think of it– shirt to keep himself from falling flat onto his back on the floor. “JESUS– fuck, Patrick! What the fuck is wrong with you!?”
“You’re being ridiculous!” Patrick bit through his teeth, making Art chuckle incredulously, hearing the fondness in the words still.
“Oh, I’m being ridicul–OUS!“ Art tried to give a snarky response, but he was cut off as he was unceremoniously launched onto the bed with an undignified squeal. “Hey!” His palms grabbed the sheets instantly, pushing his body up and trying to reorient himself, scrambling up the bed to try and swing his legs over and make another run for it, but Patrick was quick to grab his ankle and yank him back down towards the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off, before jumping on top of him and wrestling him once again. “NO– OW!” He groaned as Patrick’s elbow hit him right in the ribs, grabbing the hurt area, but Patrick was quick to take advantage of the situation to crawl up the bed, above Art’s head, roughly grabbing his arms and manhandling him so he could pin them down. “Get off me!”
“No!” Patrick yelled back, and Art growled angrily as he fought against him, catching a glimpse of his overconfident smirk and growing even more frustrated. “Holy fuck you’re stronger than you look!”
“Fuck off!” In seconds, Art’s wrists were held down by Patrick’s stupidly harsh grip, and his knees pressed into his biceps to keep him down. Art struggled still, twisting and turning, straining his arms and clenching his fists, but his attempts were unsuccessful. Eventually, Art accepted defeat, both men breathing heavily from the adrenaline and the exhaustion.
“Are you finished?” Patrick asked, smug face hovering above Art’s when he looked up.
“Fuck you.”
“Are you two done with your foreplay now or do I have to gouge my own eyes out?” Tashi asked, reminding the other two of her presence that hadn’t been forgotten even slightly, making them both whip their heads around to look at her. Art groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head back, his face growing pink again from another round of embarrassment.
“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do,” Patrick motioned her over with a flick of his head.
“No, you don’t have to do that, Patrick’s just being an idiot,” Art said, moving his eyes between the two of them, glaring frustratedly up at his friend and yanking on his wrists once more. But, to his dismay, he felt a hand rest on his knee, and he whipped his head around to see Tashi climbing onto the bed to straddle his thighs, a satisfied smile on her face.
If she was only here for entertainment, she sure would be getting what she wanted.
“Tashi,” Art tried, meaning for it to be a warning, though it fell short when his breath stuttered at the way Tashi looked down at him, almost hungry. “Tash– Tashi you don’t have to do this.”
“Does he always beg this fast?” She asked, her gaze fixed on Art’s torso, and he squirmed under the attention.
“Yes, always,” Patrick confirmed, and Art couldn’t help but scoff, and he would’ve rolled his eyes if they weren’t still closed to avoid any kind of eye contact. He was still coming to terms with the fact that this was even happening in the first place.
“That’s cute.” She placed her hands gently on his sides over his gray Stanford t-shirt, smirking when he sucked in his stomach with a sharp breath through his teeth, muscles tightening more than they already were. He let out another sound, less of an intimidating growl and more of a pathetic whine, and he squeezed his eyes shut harder and turned his head away from the open air, pressing his forehead against the inside of Patrick’s knee that pressed his arm down. He heard them both chuckle at him, before Patrick began his explanation.
“So, there’s pretty much a technique that’ll get a reaction out of, like, most normal ticklish spots you can think of, but I’m gonna tell you about a few of my personal favorites,” Patrick started, earning a nod from Tashi. “My go-to is usually just starting with his ribs, just because, like, usually they’re easy to get to and they get a pretty solid reaction no matter what you do.” Tashi hummed in understanding, smirking when Art finally looked up at her, scratching her nails over his ribs on top of his shirt. He gasped immediately, arching his back and throwing his head back against Patrick, pressing his lips together tightly, unable to stop the quiet groan that escaped.
“He’s trying not to laugh,” Tashi observed, her smile growing as she watched Art squirm against his own will.
“Go harder,” Patrick advised, meeting her eyes.
“Don’t,” Art bit through his teeth, voice strained and fists clenched tightly.
“Don’t?” She asked, her nails moving up and down his ribcage as she scratched and clawed at them, keeping her touch light, intentional, methodical.
“Mm-mm,” He grunted as he shook his head.
“Why not? What’s gonna happen if I do?”
“Nothing.” Art gasped when her fingers came a little too close to his underarms, straining his shoulders in an attempt to pull his arms down, his lips forming into a wide smile that he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Well, if nothing’s gonna happen, I might as well do it,” She teased, suddenly digging her fingers into his ribs, making him yell out and arch his back again, his entire body tense underneath her.
“NO–!” He yelped, his mouth staying open for a second as he still held his reactions, but the second she moved her harsh fingers up to drill into the top of his ribs near his underarms, he was a goner. “Fuhuck–!” He groaned, the first giggles slipping out, making both of the others react with excitement that only served to make his stomach turn more.
“Hey! There we go, was that so hard?” Patrick teased, making Art groan through his now constant laughter, only interrupted by gasps and growls at them as he kept up his attitude. Patrick directed his attention back to Tashi, coaching her further. “His ribs get worse the higher up you go, so that was a good find. His armpits aren’t as sensitive as the tops of his ribs but if you’re already up there and getting him worked up it still works wonders.”
“Fuhuck ohoff– AH–!” Art scolded, but he was cut off by a yell when Patrick shot his hands to dig into his underarms for barely a second, before returning them to their place pinning his wrists down, his attention never leaving Tashi as he did so.
“See?”
“Yohohou are an ihidiohot!”
“I know. Anyway,” Patrick adjusted his position, taking his hands off Art’s wrists in favor of leaning over him more, still keeping his arms pinned with his lower body– much to Art’s dismay, as he did immediately try to worm his way free with little success.
He chose to blame the fact that Tashi was still scratching aimlessly at his ribs, down to his sides and even over his stomach a few times, making him tense and his skin jump and flutter at the feeling. Her face remained content, a smile on her lips, and her touch remained confident but turned undisciplined, her fingers gliding wherever they wanted to without much thought, her attention jumping between Art’s reactions and her own actions, almost entranced by what she was doing to cause him to react however he did. She took in every detail– every spot that made him giggle and squirm, that made him gasp and arch his back, that made him whine and lean into her fingers– as if she was studying a new technique on the court.
She was playing with him, determined to win, and that feeling alone drove such a sharp shiver down Art’s spine that he knew she already had. They all knew– she had won before they even started.
“Tashi,” Patrick said, catching her attention and making her look over at him. He smiled at her, fondness for both of them apparent on his face, reaching down to run one hand through Art’s hair to get it out of his eyes, as it had gotten pretty messy from his squirming and head shaking and hiding his face against Patrick. Art groaned, trying to shake his head to throw Patrick’s hand off, but Patrick simply tightened his grip in his hair and settled his head straight back instead, making him swallow harshly through his laughter and roll his eyes before closing them again. “Lean towards me, like, kneel above him instead of sitting, just for a second,” He explained, motioning for her to do so with his free hand, and she did so, sitting up on her knees and shuffling forward a little to keep stability. “Perfect. Now reach behind you and squeeze above his knees–“
“Noho!” Art panicked, squirming more intentionally, pushing himself up further towards Patrick and trying to keep his legs away, even though Tashi hadn’t made a move yet. She raised her eyebrows at his reaction, laughing to herself.
”Okay, now I have to try that,” She said, and Art shook his head as he watched her anxiously, waiting for the inevitable.
”No, nono, Tahashi, Tashihi, don’t–“ He pleaded, still squirming, until Tashi latched her hands onto his thighs and squeezed incessantly at them. He let out another squeal, his mouth falling open as he broke out into bright laughter, his eyes squeezing shut as he kicked out against her hands and grabbed onto the material of Patrick’s shorts. ”Nohohoho!” He whined through his laughter, his squirming causing his shirt to ride up and expose some of his skin, his hip bones poking out as he twisted and turned.
“Oh, yeah, this was so worth it,” She mused, earning an embarrassed groan from Art, one that she had come to expect throughout the endeavor.
“Tahashi, stohohop!”
“Oh!” Patrick interrupted excitedly, and Tashi pulled her hands back and looked over at him, giving the poor boy underneath them a moment to catch his breath, settling herself back over his thighs. He shifted his hips, feeling the warm breeze from the open window of the room pass over his body, reminding him of his exposed stomach and making the ball of nerves he felt there grow again. Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity, and he looked up at Patrick to hear what ridiculous, humiliating detail he was about to reveal next. “He does this thing– like, okay–“ Patrick started, cutting himself off, leaning further forward and shifting his legs back, giving Art the opportunity to yank his arms out from under him. Patrick acted just as quickly though, grabbing his wrists and holding them firmly out to the sides– not pinning them down, but making sure Art couldn’t use his arms to protect himself at all.
”Fuck–“ Art said through gritted teeth, pulling at his arms, his jaw tightly locked shut and a sad pout sitting on his face, trapped once again.
“He does this thing,” Patrick continued, squeezing Art’s wrists, smiling as he spoke. “Where he scrunches up his nose–”
”NO, fuck you, do not–!”
“Shhh, he scrunches up his nose when you trace over his hip bones really lightly and it’s so fucking cute, it’s insane,” He finished, and Tashi couldn’t help but smile at the new information.
”God, Patrick!” Art whined, voice strained still, turning back to hide his face against Patrick’s leg. He sighed heavily, biting his bottom lip to try to keep any stray reactions in, until he felt a hand gently touch his jaw, turning him to look up at Tashi again, her bright smile calming his nerves for a split second, even though he knew exactly what was going to happen.
“Stay like that,” She instructed, voice soft, but Art still rolled his eyes and did as she said. He tilted his head back slightly, closing his eyes again with a sigh, fingers clenching into fists with his nerves. Then, her hands trailed back down, pushing his shirt out of the way and trailing her nails over his hips.
Art could swear he was being tortured.
It felt like electric currents were running through his veins, sending shocks to his spine, down his legs, up the back of his neck, his entire body tense and shaking. He couldn’t stop himself from gasping, biting his lip, before breaking out into the most adorable, high pitched, desperate giggles Tashi and Patrick had ever heard in their lives. Tashi added a second finger to each hip, moving in and out in a jellyfish motion over the jutting bones there, smiling as she watched his tummy jump and flutter at the sensation before looking up to see that Patrick was absolutely right.
His entire face was bright pink, his eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, his nose scrunched as he giggled freely. He still tried to curl in on himself, his elbows pulled in close to his sides, his wrists still held by Patrick, though he didn’t seem to be trying too hard to get away anymore.
“I hahahate thihihis,” Art complained, whining more than ever, and the other two both laughed at how blatantly untrue the statement seemed. Art didn’t even sound like he believed it too much himself. He groaned, giving up Tashi’s demand and trying to hide his face again, but Patrick scolded him gently and dropped one of his wrists to cup his jaw and hold his head up. “Pahatrihihick!” Art complained, using his now free hand to try to pry his fingers away. He was unsuccessful, and instead decided to reach down to blindly bat Tashi’s hand away, though she was not very happy about this.
“Don’t interrupt me!” She scolded playfully, grabbing his wrist and pinning it under her knee before poking ruthlessly at the area above his hip, making him squeal.
“NOHO– okahahay! Okay, okhaay, okahahahay! Stohohohop, plehehease!” He pleaded, the sudden switch overwhelming, yanking his hand free from her knee and pushing her hand away. She let out an amused laugh, cupping her hands around him and rubbing her thumbs over the front of his hip bones, letting him breathe. Patrick followed suit, removing his hands entirely and letting Art cover his face with his hands immediately. He groaned, clearing his throat and sighing, his body coming down from how tense and out of breath he was.
“You alright?” Tashi asked, pulling Art’s shirt down and pushing herself off him, sitting cross legged on the bed next to the other two.
“No,” He grumbled, his voice hoarse and muffled by his hands over his face. He dropped one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. “I died.”
“You died, did you?” She said with a raised eyebrow, earning a nod and a hum in response, a smile on his face again. Patrick chuckled, shaking his head fondly.
“He’s fine,” He confirmed, shoving Art’s shoulder. “C’mon. Get up,” He said, earning another groan, but Art sat up nonetheless, and Patrick threw an arm around his shoulders and pressed his lips to the side of his head. “See? He’s fine.”
“Well, I’m very glad,” Tashi said with a smile, all three of them sharing a few giddy giggles. “You guys do that a lot?”
“No, I wouldn’t say–“
“All the time,” Patrick said at the same time, interrupting Art and making him bite his lip again, warmth burning his face once again. The other two chuckled, watching him shake his head and attempt to collapse forward onto the bed to hide his face further, but his plan was stopped by a hand on either shoulder pushing him back up.
Tashi’s hand dropped to his thigh, as he had mirrored her cross legged position, and Patrick’s slid down to rest in the middle of his back. She glanced down at her hand, her thimb rubbing against his bare skin, before she continued.
“You’ll have to show me more sometime,” She said, voice low, looking up at Art through her lashes and making the swarm of butterflies in his stomach spring to life again. He chuckled nervously, glancing over at Patrick, but his eyes were already switching between his own and Tashi’s, as if he had every move already calculated in his head.
After that moment, the rest of the night was history.