Let's Talk
Hazbin Hotel | Murdermedia [Human!Alastor x Human!Vincent]
Sixth Fic in this Series | Link To Series On AO3 Here
First Fic | Second Fic | Third Fic | Fourth Fic | Fifth Fic | Sixth Fic (This One)
Summary: Vincent was supposed to call and he hasn't. His parents came over and it seems like it didn't go well. Alastor wasn't worried... Totally not... Okay maybe a little. [THIS IS A TICKLE FIC]
warning for internalized homophobia and biphobia and fatphobia and sexism, mentions of murder, period-typical racism and sexism and homophobia and fatphobia, shitty dad, verbal and physical parental abuse, drunk asshole, partial nudity, bondage, i think thats it?
12K LETS GOOOO i still have so much more for this series im so hyped (i also plan to make a mini fic direct follow up to this fic which will just be a small micro chapter afterwards)
REMINDER THAT THIS BLOG WILL BE DELETED (eventually) AND ALL MY FICS WILL BE ON AO3 FOREVER.
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Alastor was not worried. Alastor didn’t get worried. Especially about other people.
Vincent was his associate. And a competent one.
Alastor didn’t feel concern.
He was fine.
He was just… annoyed.
Yes. Annoyed was the right word.
They'd been cohabitating more than usual and Alastor had grown rather fond of staying with Vincent at his house. One week ago, Vincent sat him down, looking concerned and uneasy, and had told him about a recent upcoming visit with his parents.
Apparently, to celebrate Vincent's 34th birthday, they were planned to come over to Vincent's house just a few days later and his dad had a problem with, as Vincent put it, 'darker-skinned folk'.
An old racist white man. Nothing Alastor hadn't seen before.
Vincent looked visibly uncomfortable discussing his dad. Alastor had bluntly pointed out that he looked like he didn't even want to see him, so why even allow him into his house?
His mother. Vincent still wanted to see his mom, and you didn't get one without the other, apparently.
Alastor supposed then he could understand tolerating the visit.
"It's just plain not safe for you to be around him. He can get... aggressive." Vincent had looked so tense... so nervous saying that. "It'll be fine. My folks will be here for a few days. I'll call you Saturday afternoon, a week from today. Their plan is to leave around midday on my actual birthday. So once they're gone, I'll let you know when you can come back over."
It was now 7pm that Saturday, Vincent's birthday. The Saturday he was supposed to call in the afternoon.
He had first felt that inkling of nervousness, ah, annoyance, at exactly 5pm. It was no longer afternoon in Alastor's eyes, moving towards the evening, and he hadn't called.
He decided to give it time. He trusted Vincent. He was capable and strong.
It had now been 2 hours since 'giving him time'. 2 hours was enough time to at least call his landline.
Alastor bounced his leg as he sat in his armchair. He stared down at the key in his hands, the spare key to Vincent's house.
Lord, he couldn't take this anymore. He had to be there. He had to know what was going on.
...
Alastor made it through the bayou in record time, slinking onto Vincent's back porch as the sun was just sinking beneath the horizon.
All the lights in the house were off. Alastor crept to the side of the house to eye his driveway. Vincent's car was still there and there were no other vehicles.
But there were black tire tracks leading from the driveway, across the front lawn, and past his mailbox, now broken on the pavement.
Alastor readied his pocket knife and returned to the back porch. He stuck his key in the lock, carefully turning it and opening the door.
It was dark inside. He couldn't make out any significant details of the rooms. His breathing and footsteps were silent. He didn't turn on a light yet, still unsure of any hidden occupants in the house.
He slowly did his reconnaissance of every room, checking for people or clues as to what happened. He found a broken lamp, two smashed bottles of alcohol, one of which was empty due to the lack of a puddle, and a collection of smoked and smothered cigars, which was notable as Vincent had a distaste for them. He ended his investigation at Vincent's master bedroom.
There was the faintest of lights creeping under the door and if Alastor listened closely he could hear unusual breathing.
Huffing, choked up, as if someone had been crying for a long time.
Certain there was no one in the house aside from the singular man inside, Alastor made his voice known.
"Vincent?"
A sharp intake of breath followed by a quiet pause.
"You shouldn't be here." His voice was raw.
"Well I am. I've been waiting on your call. I thought you might've been in a bit of trouble."
Another long quiet. Alastor gave him time.
"It's not safe. He could come back."
"It is safe." Alastor assured him eagerly. "I've checked thoroughly. If anything new happens I'm sure I can handle it like we've... handled plenty of people before."
Alastor sighed, hand resting on the doorknob.
"I know you have a gun in there. I'll lock the door. We will be safe. We are safe." He spoke seriously before chuckling lightly. "And what was it you said to me once? 'My home is your home' or something to that effect?"
"You can't kill him." Vincent spoke flatly but with noticeable conviction. "My mom would probably find out. Plus some of the family knows about the visit too. If he were to show up dead, we'd be immediate suspects."
"A task for another day then," Alastor spoke with a lighthearted and mischievous tone. "Under more... discreet circumstances."
A long sigh. "Okay. Okay, you win. But please, if he comes back, listen to me and stay quiet, okay?"
Alastor smirked once Vincent finally acquiesced.
"I can be deadly quiet when I want to be, as you well know." He spoke in a purr.
He heard footsteps. They weren't the confident loud gait he heard regularly, no, this was a nervous shuffling towards the door.
It clicked open and Alastor stepped inside to see Vincent already with his back turned walking back to his bed and laying down in a partial fetal position with the blanket tossed over him, hiding his face and body.
He carefully entered the room with no sudden movements and locked the door behind him. The bedside lamp was on and the lockbox Vincent kept his gun in was out of its hiding place from beneath the bed and sitting unlocked on his dresser.
"I was expecting a call hours ago and didn't hear from you. I even called you and there was no answer. You must forgive a man for being concerned about his partner in dangerous and less than legal business."
"I was just waiting to be sure it was safe." His voice was muffled beneath his comforter. Alastor was not an idiot, he had a vague idea of the severity of the situation, but seeing Vincent huddled under the covers as nothing more than a lump made him smile a bit wider than he really should.
Alastor wasn't exactly the comforting type, but he had his ways to lighten a delicate situation.
"We're hiding under blankets, now are we? Is that anyway to address your business partner?" His voice was teasing but noticeably gentler than usual. He easily scanned the comforter folds and figured out his positioning.
So he aimed a poke right at his upper ribs through the blanket. It wasn't truly to start something, not yet anyway, but just to demand some attention. The man squeaked and shifted but nothing more.
"Tell me what's going on. Not only will it probably help you feel better, or so I've been told, but it'll help us get to planning how we'll solve this. I'm thinking... feed him to the gators? Not my usual style but near impossible to trace."
Alastor wasn't really good at feelings but the least he could do was try. Besides, he did want to know what had happened and he did want to solve this issue.
He heard a shaky breath from beneath the comforter.
"My dad's always had a problem with drinking. He kind of went off the deep end and started... saying shit. About me."
Alastor couldn't keep the edge from his voice as he responded. "And what kind of 'shit' was he saying?"
"It's," he sighed, "it's nothing, Al."
“It’s clearly not nothing if it’s put you in such a state.” His tone sharpened to a razor's edge in an instant. “And I doubt anything out of that drunkards mouth has any meaningful truth to it at all.”
His tone resumed its quiet but flippant tone.
“Tell me whatever bullshit he was spewing and we’ll debunk it all, I can assure you.”
Vincent snorted dismissively. "Should we start with what he's said from birth or just today?" He shifted again with a groan. "Sorry. We... We don't have to, Al. I'll be fine tomorrow. Really."
Alastor breezed past the dismissal with ease. He was not the type to give up so soon. “Let’s start with what’s got you hiding under your comforter. And apologies dear, this isn’t optional.”
Something deep and… annoying within Alastor despised seeing Vincent like this. And it wasn’t irritation or animosity.
It was something much fonder than that.
So why didn’t he just leave?
…because he was going to get Vincent closer to his usual self if it killed him, dammit. He was not meant to be so… sad and slothful. That man was built to be an excited and ambitious entertainer.
Vincent was… a firework. A light reaching for the heavens. Loud, demanding of your attention, and bright.
This. This was not Vincent. And Alastor despised it.
Alastor let the subtle sounds of rustling fabric and heavy breathing go on, waiting for Vincent to contribute.
"Well, the first and most obvious thing, my eyes. I know they're awful, it's nothing new. It's why my producers say to be grateful that media's all in black and white, so no one at home knows. But it's fine. I've accepted it."
Alastor couldn't help his massive eye roll and audible scoff.
“The fact that he had anything negative to say about what is arguably your most captivating physical feature is laughable.”
Truly. What a daft thing to criticize. His eye colors were incredibly unique and absolutely stunning. It was probably his favorite feature of Vincent’s appearance.
Alastor threw one leg over the other as he sat, set to pick apart every ridiculous judgement Vincent quoted.
“So we’ve established that’s nonsensical. What other inane criticisms came from that moron’s mouth?”
Vincent stilled and from the sound of it he choked on his own spit a bit. Suddenly the lump began thrashing as Vincent scrambled from beneath the covers. As soon as his head popped out, he looked with wide eyes and light pink blush. "You think they're my most captivating feature?" He voice was high and cracked at the end, breaking into an adorable little squeak that was quite familiar to Alastor at this point.
Now, in the light, Alastor saw something. Little dots across his face, freckles. His pale complexion made them quite noticeable, even with its current pink tint. How had Alastor never seen them before? They were quite charming, Alastor noted with a soft smile.
Vincent's hair was missing its usual gel or product, now messy and drifting into his freckle-covered face. The low light caught his mismatched eyes rather intriguingly.
He looked... incredible.
"Yes, of course, Vincent. They're incredibly unique and near impossible to look away from at times." He cocked his head to the side. "The freckles are new, though, at least to my eyes. Have you been hiding them with makeup? Is that what you had the brush for?"
Vincent winced and looked back towards the covers with his shoulders up.
"Ah-ah! No hiding under the blankets. Talk. You have a talent for it, so use it."
There was that bashful little smile of his. Vincent was a confident man, more of an egoist at times, and he had no trouble eating up praise and compliments from everyone around him, except for Alastor. Most of the time when Alastor paid him a compliment the man got flushed and shy as if he'd never heard a nice word about him.
The smile disappeared as he spoke, "He also hates the freckles. Always had. Said they looked girly even when I was a kid. I've... been wearing makeup to hide them. He found my foundation and started... yelling and shit about, well, being feminine and girly and... stuff. But like, how did he think they went away!?"
"You're just pointed it out yourself, that man is an idiot. Also, makeup was has been worn by men for centuries. It sounds like your father needs a history lesson. In some cultures it was a symbol of masculinity. Kings used to wear it for Heaven’s sake! And belittling you for your skin… where have I heard that before?"
What he was implying wasn't really the same. The man's hatred for black people didn't compare to his thing against freckles, but it had enough similarities to point out for this conversation, the point being that hating something a person can't control about their physical appearance was asinine.
His eyes scanned the new details of Vincent's face. Fascinating. He could probably count every freckle and be entertained for hours.
Vincent probably blush just brighter if he did. He could imagine him squirming and smiling under the attention...
A game for another day.
Vincent swallowed and scratched at his neck. "I... guess you've got a point."
"Of course I do," Alastor answered without question, earning a fond smile from the man sitting across from him.
"He, uh... he also gave me shit about..." Vincent cringed. "my laugh. I do my best not to let the real one show, especially around him. I had a drink or two. My mom, she's where I got my entertainer side from. She's an absolute hoot. She told a funny story, I laughed and squeaked real loud, and... yeah."
Alastor was going to murder that man...
"If you think having a squeaky soft voice makes you deserving of cruel behavior you must have the smallest ego imaginable."
Alastor's smile was lopsided, deciding to point something out he wasn't sure Vincent noticed.
"Have you ever pieced together why I often laugh when doing this to you?" Alastor lightly wiggled a finger at the rib below Vincent's pit before pulling back, forcefully drawing out a loud and high-pitched squeal. "Because your laugh is infectious, my dear. It's unique and contagious. If your father wishes that to be different he truly is a joyless man."
He raised an eyebrow with a cocky grin.
"You have to realize that if your squeaks or laugh were repulsive I wouldn't be purposefully bringing them out so often. I have no patience for noise I don't care for."
He tilted his head with a smile.
"And darling, we're performers. Every crowd has it hecklers. No matter if they're a stranger, or someone entirely too familiar. That doesn't mean we listen to their pathetic drivel. Why, just the other day someone wrote into my radio show saying I sounded too full of myself. And do you think I paid them any mind? How I sound is something I won't take criticism for, because it's part of who I am."
Vincent's smile was growing wide, brighter, more genuine.
Good. Alastor had never stroked someone's ego so much in one sitting other than his own. This better work or he may never pay a compliment to anyone ever again.
Vincent brought his knees to his chest and buried his chin in them while one hand picked at a loose thread on the comforter.
"But, you, uh... you know what people assume when a man seems, well... a little light in the loafers, right?" He nearly whispered the phrase as if it were cursed.
Alastor furrowed his brow, trying to place where he'd heard that before.
“Oh!" Alastor said loudly once it finally hit him. "You mean they assume we’re homosexual.” He said it as if he were remembering what day it was or reminded what shoes to wear. Completely unimportant and casual.
Vincent visibly winced away.
What a ridiculous thing to be concerned over.
“I’ve gotten that one before on my radio show as well." Alastor rattled off while he quickly fixed a wrinkle in his sleeve. "Apparently a well spoken man who can sing can’t be anything but. Such absurd correlations in people’s minds.” He laughed loudly because it was absurd!
He shook his head but snapped his fingers when he remembered something. “One of Mimzy’s friends is one and he’s an absolute delight. He plays the trumpet for jazz nights at one of the black and tan joints I frequent.”
Vincent looked at him as if he'd grown a second head.
Alastor raised and eyebrow. "What? Do you have a problem with homosexual men?"
Vincent threw his hands up and sputtered. "No, not at all! Th-they seem like fine people and all!" He quickly hugged his knees and made intense eye contact with his bed. "It's just... you know how most people see them. And, it's not like I've never had a thing for dames before! I've dated a couple. We were happy, courted, fooled around and all that, so I... logically I can't. I can't be. D-Don't know why my dad thinks that."
Alastor's jaw clenched. The idea of Vincent macking on some broad... it made something nasty burn inside.
"Why would we give a shit about how most people see anything? Last I checked most people also hate serial killers and, in case you forgot, that's what we are. Also, if 'God' made two sexes, then why the Hell would he be upset if a person was able to enjoy both? AND if that 'God' is upset, why should we care, Vincent? Where we're going after death is as far as 'God' as you can get." Alastor had begun angrily rambling towards the end. Vincent sat back with wide eyes. He didn't look frightened, more like he was trying to process.
"...Having feelings for both sexes is a thing people can do?"
Of course that's what he took away from it.
"I don't see why not. Feelings never do follow the rules, do they?"
Another silence fell over the room and Alastor watched as Vincent muddled over his words as if he were disentangling some deeply held beliefs of his.
"I guess it doesn't really matter. No one would really like the true me enough to have a steady relationship with me. I'm... I'm fine with that."
He sounded anything but fine with it.
"You shouldn't generalize and say 'no one' wouldn't like you. I've enjoyed having you around enough to have a steady relationship with you, haven't I? Though as to the specific nature of our relationship... I don't believe any one word could sum it up."
Alastor chuckled and looked up towards the ceiling.
"What word could possibly describe us? Our murders, our form of play..." Alastor wiggled his fingers. "Having extended periods of living at your house together more often than living alone as we do on paper. And now here I am coaching you down after a particularly nasty family visit. That doesn't sound like typical coworkers does it? Or even friends, if I'm being honest. I don't think there's anyone like us, dear."
His smile was wide and genuine. "As unique as your eyes. Imagine a world so drab that anything abnormal was to be avoided... Not one I'd care to exist in, I can assure you."
Vincent's mouth hung in a slight 'o' shape as his face steadily warmed to a vibrant pink. Even his ears were touched by that obvious warmth. Precious.
"I... I also like having you around." He stammered rather bashfully.
That was rather obvious but not unpleasant to hear.
"Anything else we need to touch on, Vincent?"
He looked to be thinking for a moment before cringing and hugging his middle. He hesitated, but Alastor beat him to any excuse.
"Now I know there's something. Spill. Let's nip it in the bud."
Vincent sighed, hugging himself tighter. "My dad pointed out how I... I let myself go."
Alastor furrowed his eyebrows. What was he talking about?
"Let yourself go?" He asked confusedly.
Vincent's face curled tighter into a grimace. "Come on, Al, my weight. Talked about how its obvious I'm letting myself get fat. Disgusting."
Alastor's jaw dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Vincent jolted with wide eyes.
"Vincent, in no world are you fat and even if you were that's an absolutely ridiculous thing to criticize."
"I-I've definitely gotten fat, Al."
Alastor shoved a finger in Vincent's face. "No. I'm going to stop you. You've spent years feeding yourself very little and regularly pushing your body to its limits so you had large defined muscles but dangerously low body fat. The past couple of months you've been eating real hearty meals. So your body is packing on fat while also building your musculature at an accelerated rate. Yes, you've gained weight. Yes, some of that weight is fat. But you are not fat. You're broad. Your arms, thighs, and chest are thick with heavy muscle and a small layer of bodyfat. Your gut," Alastor poked his finger into Vincent's slightly softer stomach, "still has those same abs as before, likely even larger than they were, but you can't see them anymore because you have actual healthy padding there you didn't have previously. It's healthy. It's normal."
Vincent's expression was awash in awe and flattery and soaked in disbelief. "You... you don't think I'm fat... or gross?"
"Have I ever given you any impression that I did?" He spoke loudly as if he were personally offended. "You're more capable than ever, able to run much longer without getting winded and perform even larger feats of strength. You are a wall of muscle with some soft HEALTHY padding. I don't think there's such a thing as a more attractive figure." As soon as the words left Alastor's mouth he flushed a burning red and sputtered to cover himself. "B-by most people standards! Hollywood loves muscular bodies, and... now you look well-nourished and cared for rather than sustaining yourself by sheer will alone."
Vincent's face was a red equal to Alastor's own. There was an uncomfortable silence before Alastor cleared his throat. "So, yes, ignore what your father said. Your... figure is fine. If you're worried about your clothes fitting improperly or showing off your gut more prominently you simply need a good tailor. One of Mimzy's friends is a natural with a sewing needle and can make any of your suits fit your new look."
Vincent laughed a little awkwardly but relaxed his body from its tense self-hug. "Um... thanks, Al. I really appreciate all this." He shrugged. "Sorry if I, uh, kept you away from anything with my... breakdown."
His blush was much more vibrant without his makeup to hide it. Mixed with his freckles... it was not a bad sight. Not at all.
Alastor stared at Vincent's flushed complexion with a soft smile. He should leave the makeup off more often. His eyes observed every detail, making note of every little cluster of freckles, and how they framed his features.
Pink surrounding the blue and green irises... A veritable rainbow of Vincent.
"You'll just have to make up for it later. Not giving me a call back? Unforgivable." Alastor's smile was teasing and lopsided, a clear indication of play. "I'm thinking... a minute at your underarms to start with. And you'll have to keep count of the seconds for me. I know you love helping out with that. You can count backwards from 60 can't you?"
Alastor chuckled at the immediate shift in demeanor from Vincent. A nervous giddy smile plastered itself across his face and he ducked down as he backed up against the headboard. "W-Wahahait! Ahal! I-It's been a long day! I don't know if I can handle that! 60 seconds that I have to count? You're gonna kill meeehehehe!"
This was much more welcome, oh Alastor was definitely going down this route.
"Then how about this. I'll make you laugh now, here. And I'll make you laugh at my house tomorrow. Your amount of required seconds is 60. You may choose however many of them to do today right now, BUT the remaining total of seconds will be fulfilled tomorrow, doubled."
He loomed over Vincent, fingers twitching eagerly.
"Meaning you could, if you want, only do 10 seconds tonight. But that would leave 50 left. And it would be doubled for tomorrow. So 100 seconds. Or, be brave, and do more tonight so you have less to deal with tomorrow. It's your choice."
Vincent clenched his arms close to his sides to cover his pits. "C-Come on. You know I couldn't have called you right? The phone was in the other room! A-And I was so good, I told you, uh, most of my insecurities in our weird little therapy session. Surely you can spare me a little? Th-thihis ihis cruel and unusual!"
Oh he was enjoying that unrestricted blush of Vincent's. His gaze tightened on it. He needed to see this again. Maybe he could get Vincent to only wear makeup when he left the house... so that he alone go to see this entrancing sight.
"I applaud you for your bravery telling me these things. But you did just point out there were some things you didn't tell me. 'Most insecurities'? For not letting me in on everything, this is your punishment. And, darling, cruel would be tying you up and clawing at your pits while I listen to a radio show for half an hour. One to two minutes is quite merciful in comparison don't you think?"
He let his fingers slowly crawl up the blankets toward Vincent's ribs to just baaaarely poke at the hyper-sensitive nerves.
"Make your choice or I'll make it for you. I could be so gentle and nice and make you only endure 1 second... though that would be leaving you nearly two minutes straight tomorrow. I'm giving you a chance to change that."
He was squirming and beaming, obviously fighting back a giggle fit. "I-I don't know how much I can take. M-Maybe I just count until I can't anymore. And the remainder is doubled for tomorrow?"
Al retrieved his hands and tapped his chin in a display of thoughtfulness.
“Hm… I suppose I could grant you that privilege. But you get no restraints. And the moment your arms come down, that’s it. You’ve locked in your time. Doesn’t matter if you only last a few seconds. Do you understand?”
He grinned and his eyes narrowed.
“Now arms up.”
A stern command with no room for debate. His stare enforced it without question.
Vincent obeyed the command without a moment's hesitation, arms shooting up and banging against the headboard. Alastor sat himself beside Vincent, toeing off his shoes before putting his legs on the bed (he had standards). He sat on his knees next to Vincent's ribcage with full access to all his spots.
Vincent playfully scoffed whilst wriggling slightly with nerves. "Thought I was supposed to get nice presents on my birthday."
Ah, yes. Vincent's 34th birthday was today. That had been one of the reasons that added to his concern. Alastor himself didn't really care for birthdays, but Vincent did. So for him to not even talk to Alastor or suggest something to do to celebrate was strange.
"Would 34 minutes of me playing with your sides be a sufficiently nice present? To celebrate another year and all that? I could put on one of my favorite radio shows and listen while I do that. Who knows? Maybe your squeaks will enhance the listening experience."
Even if Alastor didn't give a damn about birthdays, he supposed he could entertain Vincent's to keep him in good spirits. Perhaps the idea of a yearly event to look forward to wasn't that silly.
One of his favorite stations usually broadcasted mystery story narration at this time. The combination of that with Vincent's tittering sounded delightfully pleasant.
Vincent's eyebrows shot up. Alastor couldn't blame him. It was an unusually kind and gentle suggestion from him.
"O-Oh! Um... that'd be nice." He smiled bashfully while he spoke with a delightful pink flush. "You sure?"
"Well... let's see how you do with our little challenge."
Alastor had already decided he'd do it, but that vague statement would push Vincent even further to endure as much as he could.
Alastor began unbuttoning Vincent's shirt and opened it up wide to reveal his bare underarms. He positioned his wiggling claws at the hollows, making Vincent wriggle and grin nervously.
"Now start counting. The moment you say 'one', it will begin. Best prepare yourself my dear..."
The paler man lightly kicked his feet and winced away, his arms jerking down partially as he giggled nervously. "St-stop wihigglling them ihit makes it harder to start!"
His fingers were just hovering right above the skin, twitching and wriggling so close Alastor was sure he could feel it as a phantom touch.
"Go on, dear. Nothing's stopping you."
Vincent squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. "O-One-"
The very instant the word escaped Vincent's mouth, Al's index fingers were poking and jabbing at his armpits like he was typing on a busted type writer.
"EEEEK!" Vincent squealed and threw his head back as he howled with laughter. "T-TWOHOHO! AHA! TH-THREEHEHEHEHEEEE- OHO GOHOD! FOHOHOUR!" He thrashed side to side and his arms shook with the immense effort it took to keep them up.
"There you go. Do keep up a steady pace. If you try and speed through it, I'll make you start over. Proper seconds." Alastor's voice was a gentle coo laced with amusement. They both needed a little frivolity after today.
It had been less than a week since he'd heard it, but it was still too long. That laugh of his never failed to fill Alastor with that warm tingly feeling of contagious mirth. He could already feel giggles bubbling up in his belly at the mere sound of Vincent's squeaky laughter.
"FIHIHIVE- EEP- SIHIHIX! FUCK- SEHEHEHEHEVEHEHEN! EEHEHEIGHT! NIHI- AIIE- NIHIHIHINE! T-T-TEHEHEHEN!"
"Keep going! You're a sixth of the way there. If you manage to make it to thirty that would be impressive, Hm... but you are far too sensitive... I doubt you could."
It was an obvious bait, but he knew it would get under Vincent's skin. Whether he did it or not, his reaction would be worth the taunt.
His voice dropped to a purr. "Aw, is it too much? Are you laughing too hard to think?" He jabbed his thumbs into the hollows and firmly massaged the muscle as he had learned drove Vincent up the wall.
"AIIIIEE- YOHOHOU AHAHAHASS! ELEHEHEHEVEN! TWEHEHEHELVE! AHAHAHAHA! TH-THIRTEHEHEHEHEN! F-FOURTEHEHEHEEN! EEHAHAHAHA! FIFTEHEHEHEEN!"
"One quarter of the way there. Ooh, still so much to go!" Alastor couldn't keep the giggles from his voice anymore. The hilarious melody of Vincent's laughter coupled with his adorable squirming and kicking and wriggling was just too amusing to smother the laughter brewing inside.
"SIHIHIXTEEHEHEHEEN! EEE! SEHEHEHEVENTEEHEHEHEEN! EHEHEIGHTEEHEHEHEN! N-NIHIHIHINETEHEHEHEEN! T-TWEHEHEHEHENTY!"
Alastor eyed the bit of muscle between the chest and the armpit, the pectoralis minor was the name if he remembered correctly. He gripped it with his index finger and thumb, and squeezed.
"AIEIEEE- STAHAHAHAP!" Vincent pretty much screamed in laughter and his arms slammed down. He curled up as much as he could as helpless cackling poured out of him with eyes screwed shut.
Alastor let out a light chuckle and completely stilled his hands. "I think we found a more precise weak spot of yours. That was quite the reaction!"
"Thahahahat tihihickled sohoho bahahahad." He whined through giggles.
"You made that quite clear." Alastor stood up and fetched the radio from the other room, placing it on the dresser and turning it on to that mystery narration station at a quiet volume. He then climbed back onto the bed and laid down.
"Alright. Lay down so I can get your sides."
He blinked owlishly. "W-What?"
"I did say I'd play with your preferred spot for 34 minutes for your birthday, did I not?"
"But I didn't make it to thirty. You said-"
"All I said was 'let's see'. I did not state that your performance would affect your birthday present. Now. Lay beside me. The next story is starting."
Alastor smirked. His wording did exactly what he intended it to. Vincent was too easy.
Heavens, he looked so red. It was unfairly captivating. Alastor didn't think he could look away if he wanted.
"Now come here. If you wait any longer I may change my miiiind~" Alastor sang the last word with a cocky grin, his fingers wiggling the slightest bit.
Vincent beamed and laid beside him, their bodies lightly squished together.
"Now for tonight's story, Mayhem at the Manor!"
The radio spoke softly of the new story. The dramatic background music was soon joined by delightfully adorable giggling as Alastor gently danced his fingers up and down Vincent's bare sides, his shirt still unbuttoned and opened.
Alastor was smiling ear-to-ear, feeling Vincent's torso jerk and quiver under his touch, but not make any move to escape the ticklish sensations. Why would he? He's said it himself. It was his favorite spot to be tickled.
Alastor's mind drifted from the story to the tickling, back and forth. The narrative followed a basic murder mystery formula of a victim at a dinner party full of strangers and an investigator figuring out the culprit. A predictable formula, but an entertaining one. The narrator was a skilled storyteller and the music and sound effects were well-done as well.
He turned his head to watch Vincent. He looked so utterly happy. His smile was massive and bright as a star, his eyes crinkled and half-closed, and hair messily clinging to his forehead. His freckles were seemingly more vibrant upon flushed-pink skin, and just the smallest hint of his blue and green irises could be seen.
There was no other word for it. Vincent was just plain adorable.
Some time passed. The manor mystery story began wrapping up, the story clearly reaching the climactic reveal scene before going to commercial.
As some advertisement rattled on about instant coffee, Alastor looked down at the giggling happy man beside him.
"Vincent..." He purred. "You mentioned that you left some things out earlier. Some insecurities. I think you should share those with me. And maybe if you do, I'll consider whittling down the 80 seconds punishment still waiting for you tomorrow."
He lifted a hand to brush aside some of the hair over Vincent's face.
"You know how I don't like being left out of the loop."
Vincent peeked his eyes open at him, still giggling happily and dazedly. He didn't look fully there, more like he was floating in his little happy place and just checking in on reality.
"Mmmm Fihine. Buhut yohou cant hate me 'cause you asked."
"Unless your insecurity is that you gave evidence of our crimes to the police I doubt anything you have to tell me would sway me much. I'm not easily convinced to let someone be this close. And I'm much more hesitant to let them leave." Alastor wiggled a finger at his pit at the last word and snickered at the resulting squeal before resuming the gentle side tickles.
The commercial break was still playing, now going on about cigarettes. Despite them being the norm, Alastor had never developed much of a taste for them, only using them once or twice when he really needed to take the edge off.
Honestly did Vincent really take him for someone so wishy-washy in their relationships? It would take a lot for Alastor to abandon him at this point.
And not JUST because he knew about his illegal activities, though that certainly was a factor.
"My dad was right about one thing," Vincent began. "I have carried a torch for fellas in the past. For dames as well, but that's not the point."
Alastor had a feeling that was true after their little chat. He seemed to be very personally moved by Alastor assuring him being attracted to both men and women was not impossible.
Alastor lightly circled his sides, eliciting more squeaky laughter. Vincent looked like he was hesitating to finish his thought, maybe if he went deeper into his happy place he'd lose his hesitation.
"Fohohor ahahas lohohong ahas I've knoohohown you, I've beheheheen keen ohon you."
Alastor's eyes widened and his face warmed. Sure, he had a passing suspicion or two but it had just seemed so unlikely.
He stilled his fingers but Vincent kept going. Now that he had ripped off the bandage he seemed ready to air it all out.
"You have a stupidly pretty face. Unfairly pretty. Your smile, your laugh, everything about you." He not-so-subtly hid his face in his hands. "Puppy love and shit. I want to hold your hand, tickle you, and kiss your cute face over and over again." He threw his hands down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "It's embarrassing how stuck I am on you when you're just my business partner."
...That damned feeling again.
Butterflies.
Until tonight Alastor hadn't seriously considered something like this. He hadn't necessarily been opposed, God knows his brain had been wandering if he let it, but romance has never a genuine option for him, at least in his mind.
Gazing at his blushing freckled face and shy smile, how his eyes looked up at Al like he had the answers to his future in his pupils.
Was that what attraction was like? Alastor wasn't sure.
He's heard plenty sing his praises before. He's had his fair share of fans of either gender go on and on about his voice, his singing, his talent, his appearance. He always appreciated a good stroking of his ego, but this was different. It meant more, felt more real from Vincent.
The idea of 'puppy love' was something he would've scoffed at mere days ago.
But now it was something he was very much considering. Something deep inside him even seemed eager at the possibility. Months of memories started flooding to his brain, all centered around feelings he had been blatantly ignoring.
His smile was nothing but adoring looking at Vincent.
"Dear, this would never in a million years have me abandoning you."
Al placed his hands on either side of Vincent's face. He could feel the heat of his flush under his palms.
"I... don't know enough about romance to confidently say what exactly I feel towards you, but... this is not unwelcome. And I can guarantee this with the certainty of the stars and the Earth itself... we are not 'just' business partners."
His smile lobbed a bit to the side in a smirk.
"How about you help me figure out if our feelings match. Describe what it is that has you certain it's puppy love. So far I have that you like my appearance, specifically my smile, laugh, and face. I also like yours as well. I think holding your hand would be nice. And... what was that last one?"
He knew exactly what he had said but he wanted to get him to repeat it.
Now that the idea was in Alastor's head, he was quite interested.
Vincent rolled on his side so the two were laying facing each other.
"God-" He huffed, avoiding eye contact, his smile utterly sappy. "My rant makes me sound like I just like you for your looks, that's not the case, I promise you, forgive me for fueling your ego with my sappiness, even though I know you love when I feed into it."
"Go on, then." Alastor teased which Vincent just smiled bigger at.
"You're... You're inspiring, really! Your performances are incredible. Your confidence and poise even when things get sticky... Smiling no matter what. You seem unshakable, on top of the world, a beacon of power and entertainment everyone deserves to see and admire.
"You inspire me to keep going. Even if you hadn't come today... I would've dusted myself off and faced tomorrow with a smile, because it's what you would've done. You resilience... it's one of my favorite qualities of yours.
"My loyalty to you is unbreakable... You're already aware I don't really believe in an afterlife, but if the whole Hell thing turns out real like you always insist I will absolutely follow you there. I'd walk straight into the inferno proudly if you were inside."
"I think about you constantly and it always makes me smile. Your face, your jokes, you stories, your cooking, God, I could go on and on, Al."
He looked up with a shy grin. "So, yeah, I'd like to kiss you, but I'd also be happy just... being there beside you, as long as you'll have me... preferably forever." He chuckled. "I'll always be here to support you, go on hunts with you, make you snort and giggle," He squeezed Alastor's side, eliciting the exact sounds listed. "Whatever you want."
He sighed. "Don't force yourself to return my feelings if you don't okay. As long as I'm beside you, I'm happy."
Alastor would be lying if he claimed he didn't enjoy the showering of compliments and adoration he was receiving. His expression was soft and happy, was this what being 'smitten' was like?
Alastor's hands were still cupping Vincent's face. He gently brushed his thumbs over those still warm cheeks.
Vincent had been immensely vulnerable with him. And with Alastor quite interested in further development of his relationship, he decided it was only fair he let down his walls a bit too.
"I've always thought romance as... ridiculous. To be that close, say such inane niceties... Obviously I have friends, but even with Mimzy I maintain a certain level of separation with. It was comfortable for me, to be so isolated and distant from everyone. It felt safe and orderly.
"And yet here you are. You know me on such a deeply personal level and it doesn't repulse me. Matter of fact, it feels... nice. It's nice to be known and... cared for."
Alastor sighed, letting a brief period of comfortable silence fill the space before speaking again.
"Do you remember how we met? At that party downtown all those years ago? Some get together for those in the entertainment scene in New Orleans. You came up to me, already having heard my radio show, and introduced yourself. And I looked at you and thought..."
Alastor leaned in close before smirking.
"Not another white man."
"Hey," Vincent playfully chastised. Alastor meanwhile broke into a few giggles and snorted. His hand retracted to lightly cover his smile with the back of his wrist, despite the fact that he fully felt comfortable letting out his real laugh. His messy unprofessional laugh. The laugh Vincent had practically waxed poetry about.
He leaned back with a smile blending teasing and fondness.
"I know that's probably not what you want to hear. But it highlights something important. This bond of ours took time. It took trust. It's something that grew slowly over the years into something that I... That I would be upset to lose."
Alastor rolled his eyes with a cheesy smile. "And I suppose if you stroked my ego I could stroke yours as well. Those pretty eyes of yours are practically begging for it."
He chuckled at Vincent's wide-eyed but overjoyed look and brushed some of his hair from his face.
"I feel I already touched on your appearance. It is far more than adequate." His voice dropped an octave on that last sentence before resuming its usual tone. "Your eagerness, your joy, your readiness to perform and take the spotlight, your humor... you're endlessly entertaining, darling. Never a dull moment with this one around is there?" Alastor tapped his nose before resting his hands on the bed between them.
"My life is delightfully unpredictable now with you in it. A little chaos to my order. Who knew I'd become so addicted to it?"
He watched Vincent's eyes. He could get lost in those colors. It wasn't just different base colors. The lightly reflected off each iris differently. He could waste hours analyzing each detail.
"I've never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. I don't have the words to describe it. Because romance has never been even a consideration for me, I don't know what to compare us too."
He held Vincent's hand in his.
"But I know the following. I care about your safety and your happiness. I want you close to me. I'm happy when you're around. And when we have to be apart for some time, it hurts. Oh, and also..."
Now it was time to really jump in the deep end. Judging by Vincent's confession he'd probably respond positively to this little curiosity Alastor had had a couple times before.
Alastor closed in so their noses were almost touching. "I would like to try kissing you right now."
Vincent's eyes blew to the size of saucers. He squeaked and nodded. "S-sure!"
Alastor moved in a bit closer but hesitated, having quite literally 0 experience. Vincent seemed to be happy to take over and slowly closed the gap. Alastor's lips pressed against his. Satisfying and intimate, but Alastor wasn't quite sure what the fuss was about.
Vincent huffed a laugh with a light smile before moving his lips and,
Oh.
Oh that felt nice.
Their lips pressed and moved against each other gently in a sort of back-and-forth, give-and-take motion with Vincent leading him through it.
He sighed happily into the feeling. He felt so... warm. Warm and tingly.
After a moment, Alastor pulled back with just the slightest smack of lips signaling their departure. Vincent opened his eyes and Alastor could swear he saw sparkles in his mismatched irises.
"That was... satisfying." Alastor said, flushed from the kiss and from the embarrassment of admitting such a thing, though he knew it was important for this conversation.
Vincent chuckled. "I'm glad. I enjoyed it too." He picked at a loose thread on the comforter and spoke again.
"So... as you've said, we're not 'just business partners'. What are we, do you think?"
Alastor hummed for a moment, mulling it over. "Partners. Just drop the business part. For life and beyond, I would you like you to be mine, and as long as you're mine, I will be yours. Whatever that means to us."
Vincent's eyes were wide and shiny, his smile so soft and happy. "Yeah. I like that. Partners."
"And just so you know," Alastor's tone sharpened a noticeable amount, "this level of closeness is for us and us alone. You are not to share this level of intimacy or the details of your relationship with anyone. Understood?"
Vincent squeaked and nodded. "Yep! No problem!"
"I'm glad we understand one another." Alastor leaned back just a bit with a fond grin, hands coming to rest on the blanket between them.
They stayed there for a moment, just... enjoying the new frontier of their relationship. Alastor quirked an eyebrow when he saw Vincent give a little smirk.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked fondly.
"Just wondering how much 'confessing my undying love and starting a courtship' is worth in terms of taking off the seconds for my scheduled execution tomorrow."
He quickly darted his fingers to Alastor's sides, making him flinch with a giggle.
"Because... If it's still a stupidly high number, I have ways to convince you otherwise!" His grin was playful and silly, showing nothing of the heartache he had endured earlier, thank the heavens. He leaned in and began peppering tiny quick kisses over Alastor's cheeks.
The darker man yipped in surprise and all but melted into the silly gesture. His smile was ear-to-ear as he snickered at the loving kisses pressed to his cheeks. He wasn't used to so much affection but he was certain he would be happy for this to be a regular occurrence.
He hadn't really felt any sort of physical affection in decades until this whole tickling thing started with Vincent. Unfortunately for his pride, he was really enjoying being showered with love and attention.
He chuckled. "As sweet as this is, you're not worming your way out of that one, darling."
The light playful kisses moved downwards to his neck. He gasped before breaking into giggles, he knew Vincent targeted his throat because he was highly ticklish there. The speed and softness of the little pecks were murder on his nerves, he couldn't help but squirm and giggle.
And then he heard an inhale...
"Vihihincehent, dohon't you daHAHAHAHAHAHARE- SNRK!" That ridiculous sounding raspberry tickled like the dickens, sending him into near immediate hysterics.
"Theeeeere he is!" Vincent cooed loudly, his fingers quickly dancing over his sides and belly to keep Alastor laughing and snorting. "My snorty little piggy!"
Alastor, for once, felt completely fine with letting himself be tickled, as opposed to his usual clash of pride and secret enjoyment. He knew Vincent knew, and he no longer felt the need to try and recover the secret he'd never get back. The vulnerability of the long conversation was hard, but now he felt like so much between them was new and open to explore. Vincent shifted to straddle his waist and Alastor let him, rolling on his back as he allowed himself laugh without restraint.
"Cahahall mehehe thahahahat ihihin puhuhublic ahahand yohohou're DEAD!"
Vincent halted his fingers to tease without distraction.
"I'm not an idiot, Al. I know. But thanks for confirming you're okay with me calling you that in private, my little piggy."
Alastor flushed and narrowed his eyes. "Careful what you say, my dear squeaky toy. Or should I start pushing your buttons and see how high your voice goes this time?"
Vincent grinned something more familiar to his everyday demeanor, something teasing and plotting. "Guess I won't say anything, then. I'll just-" He dove back in and blew another raspberry on the side of his neck while his fingers fluttered and skittered over his quaking belly.
"AHA! SNRK! VIHIHHA- SNRK! EHEHAHA!" Alastor erupted into stupidly happy laughter, thrashing only by instinct while he cackled and snorted to his heart's content.
"All you gotta do is reduce the timer for tomorrow," Vincent spoke and hummed into Alastor's neck which was still unfortunately very ticklish, "Or at least give me save states. I'll just keep tickle-tickle-tickling you until you agree!"
"N-Nehehehever!" Alastor shouted playfully, knowing where it'd lead.
"Oh, you really do want to be tickled, don't you piglet? Well I'd be happy to! Coochie coochie coo!" He ended his childish cooing with an even longer raspberry, sending Alastor further into hysteria.
"AHAHAHA! SNRK! ST-SNRK-STOHOHOP TAHAHALKING LIHIKE THAHAHAT!"
Vincent giggled into his neck, making Alastor squeal. "I keep forgetting just how bad baby talk gets you. Adorable."
Indeed, baby talk was deeply embarrassing which somehow leant itself to the ticklish feeling. Alastor wouldn't be shocked if Vincent could feel the heat of his blush down his neck and onto the man's lips.
Christ, the vibrations on his neck tickled so much more than they had any right to!
"Can't even handle a few ticklish raspberries, can you? All that sadistic cruelty and deadly ability inside a giggly little baby doll, dawwww!"
Alastor's eyes shot open at the nickname as heat crept over his ears and across his collarbone.
Butterflies. The damn butterflies swarmed in his belly.
Babydoll?!
If Vincent said that in public he'd slit his throat. Well, maybe not, but he'd certainly threaten it.
But here?
Vincent's cooing babyish teases were flustering and embarrassing, sure, but... that was part of the fun of these little games. Even though they drove Alastor insane.
This was part of their play. The teasing and the taunting. It was part of the fun to let Vincent get under his skin, just as he reveled getting under Vincent's.
And the man thought of him as anything other than a frail little doll to take care of, like most husbands thought about their wives when they said these things. He'd just gone on and on mere minutes ago about how much he admired and looked up to him.
The nickname was affection and teasing, nothing more.
The fact that Alastor didn't immediately clock him over the head would send all the signal that Vincent needed to know that he didn't despise it.
"Shuhut thehe HEHEHELL uhuhup, Squeheheaks!" He sputtered through frantic giggling, firing back with a new (and more accurate) nickname towards his partner.
Vincent leaned back to make eye contact, smirking with immense satisfaction.
"If you don't relent and give me something to help out with my penalty tomorrow... I'm gonna..." He trailed off, looking over Alastor's body with a hum. Alastor simply laid there catching his breath, curious to see where it'd go.
"I'll... tickle your feet! I'll tickle them and get all your cute little oinks." Vincent leaned down and nuzzled Alastor's face, who playfully chomped the air next to him with a snarl. Vincent was unfazed, still beaming as he continued. "So, you hungry for more tickles or do you promise to give me save points?"
Alastor breathed deeply as his foot twitched the slightest bit. He knew for a fact his feet were terribly ticklish, to the point that washing them when bathing was a bit of a chore. A simple rag running over his sole tickled like Hell, but as it was him doing it it never made him laugh, just cringe and flinch.
The worst kind of ticklish, in Alastor's book.
Hm...
Oh, what the Hell? He had more laughter in him.
He smirked.
"You want save points? Earn them."
His eyes were narrow, taunting him. They said one thing and one thing only.
Make me.
Vincent's expression was dripping in adoration and excitement. He brought a hand up to brush over Alastor's cheek who hummed happily beneath the touch.
Oh, Alastor was really starting to grow attached to this physical affection thing.
He hadn't been touched this much since he was a child. It felt so comforting and safe, full of love and care that warmed him to his core.
"What's your mood, then, handsome? Free range to thrash or do you want a little help to keep from fighting?" Vincent glanced down at his belt.
His eyes followed to the item. They were no strangers to using it to keep Vincent's hands up so Alastor could torment his favorite spot of his.
Though they'd just been quite vulnerable with each other, Alastor didn't think he'd ever be the type to volunteer to being restrained. So he spun his words carefully. Taunting, but clearly suggesting what Vincent was already contemplating.
He gazed up through half-lidded eyes.
"I'm going to need some convincing before I even consider giving you any leeway." He cocked his head to the side. "Think you're even capable of that? I'm not easily held back, as you know."
A scream from the radio startled both of them. Ah, yes. They had tuned out that radio show Alastor had put on hadn't they?
"And turn that off. The killer is obviously the cook anyway, I don't need to hear the end."
"Such confidence from a cute piggy." One last kiss to Alastor's cheek, before Vincent pulled himself off the bed, letting Al's arms be free for a moment to situate himself.
"I've been thinking it's the gardener," Vincent commented as he fiddled with the radio, shuffling some stuff around on the desk as he did so.
"The gardener was the victim." Alastor chuckled. He clearly hadn't been listening, too far away in his happy place from having his sides played with. "Killed by a fall, thought to be suicide, though obviously it was the cook who pushed him after luring him up there as hinted in the beginning when it mentioned the dish he was making was the gardener's favorite. Child's play."
"Okay, smartass." Vincent snorted.
Alastor lightly rubbed the sole of one foot with the other as his nerves set in.
Oh, lord this was going to tickle so bad.
Vincent approached the bed and began unbuckling his belt.
"Do you want your arms behind your back or to be connected to the bed frame? Also, maybe... take off your shirt? If you want?"
Vincent was the least subtle person in the world when it came to Alastor.
The smaller man raised an eyebrow as he slid off his vest and his button-up. "Figures you need all the help you can get." His smile and tone were nothing but playful. "And be my guest, do whatever you think will help you win this little battle." He shot a sharp glance at Vincent. "Because you're not getting any mercy from me tomorrow, no matter what you try tonight."
It was bait. Obvious glaring bait.
He offered a big long stretch, his arms straining above his head for a moment and showing off his torso that had always seemed to catch Vincent's eyes before. His gaze focused on Vincent's face, scanning his reaction.
The man was practically drooling over the sight in front of him, eyes wide and face red. He had never been shirtless in front of him before and, as obvious Vincent's reaction, it was not due to lack of eagerness on Vincent's part.
"Do you plan to bore to me into submission?" Alastor teased. Vincent startled as if his mind had been completely gone from the room before clearing his throat and getting to work with the belt binding. He looped it through the nearest bed post and clicked it firmly around Alastor's wrists.
"That okay? Not too tight?"
"I'm quite alright," Alastor assured him as he tugged experimentally on his arms. "You're rather familiar with being bound so I guess you're a natural on the other side as well."
Vincent snickered. "You love being a little brat don't you?"
"Guilty." Alastor shrugged.
Vincent went and sat himself on Alastor's shins, facing his feet. He carefully began peeling off his socks and Alastor shivered in anticipation.
Once his feet were bare and his stomach was in knots, he heard a quiet click.
"Tell me, Al, does this tickle at all? Or is it too rough?"
Then, a gentle pointy little sensation on the ball of his foot.
Oh, Heavens that was ticklish-
"PfffftAHAahaha! Snrk! Ohohokay- SNRK! OHOHO- SNRK- OHOKAHAHAY!"
Alastor tossed and flinched and jerked. His toes curled and flexed.
That tickled. That tickled a LOT. What the Hell was that? Pointy but gentle? Why on Earth did whatever that was tickle so much?!
"Tickles that bad already, huh? You're so cute. Try to guess what I'm tickling you with, doll!"
That ticklish point danced over his sole, but only in specific parts. Something plastic and thin?
It was really hard to try and figure it out when he was laughing himself silly.
Wait, Vincent dragged it in a little pattern, was that a heart shape?
"SNRK! AHAHA PEHEHEHEN! SNRK! PEHEHEN! WHAHAHAT THEHE- SNRK- HEHEHELL AHAHARE YOHOHOU WRIHIHITING!?!"
Knowing Vincent it was probably something embarrassing. Pen ink was a monster to clean off and his feet were horribly sensitive even to his own touch.
Ohhhh Vincent was going to pay for this...
"Ding ding! You got it right!" He happily waved the tool in the air, a simple black ballpoint pen with the logo from his TV network on the casing. "Got this baby as a promotion gift after we murdered the News Caster! Some benefits, huh? I saw it on my desk next to the radio and just had to try."
Alastor panted like he had just gone running once that cursed trinket left his foot. He had been laughing so hard that even that brief period had him slightly breathless. His soles were practically aching from the leftover tingling.
That pen went right back to its job of writing and doodling over the sole of Alastor's feet, leaving him a cackling snorting mess.
"It's definitely doing the trick judging by your adorable laughter. And what's the fun of telling you what I'm writing? Don't you wanna guess?"
Alastor could, if he tried, probably hazard a few guesses as to what Vincent had wrote, not that he really wanted to.
Once the pen stilled and Alastor regained some coherency, he spoke again. "I know you wrote something," a deep tired breath, "just to embarrass me, you little imp. I refuse to guess."
Vincent shrugged, unbothered. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see what it is later. Doesn't that sound like fun?" He didn't give him a chance to answer before going back to his doodling, sending Alastor thrashing and laughing his heart out.
"Goochie goochie goooo! Tickle tickle!"
The cooing was immediately met with kicking and bucking.
“DOHON’T YOHOHOU DAHAHARE!” He yelled through his laughter. His words were mortifying… and Alastor’s temper made it abundantly clear.
"Aww, ticklish little thing. Think I should switch to the other foot, or can this lovely canvas of mine handle a few more doodles?"
“Ihihi cahahan hahahandle ahahahanything. Juhuhust shuhuhut UHUHUP!” Alastor immediately answered his question with his usual bravado, not thinking it through at all.
"Awwww, I'm sure you can!" He cooed as his pen touched down against the untouched space just beneath Alastor's toes. The new spot shot his laughter up an octave. Not up to Vincent's usual range but definitely higher than what was normal for Alastor.
"Ooh, little piggy squeals!" Vincent giggled smugly and then brought the pen to the other foot, quickly making use of the unmarked space at a maddeningly fast pace.
"Immensely brave, these ticklish feet, working so hard to handle simple pen strokes. Is my ticklish piggy brave? Yes you are! Tickle tickle tickle! Cootchie cootchie coo~"
Alastor was properly hysteric now, and the baby talk certainly wasn't helping. He was thrashing, snorting, and rapidly switching between cackles and screams.
"SHUHU -SNRK- SHUHUT UHUHUP! YOHOHOHOU -SNRK- AHA! NOHOHO! SNRK! DAHAHAMMIT! -HIC- PFFTAHA! SNRK! VI-VIHIHINCEHEHENT! SNRK!"
Then, through gritted teeth, words escaped him.
"NOHO MOHOHORE PEHEHEN! PL- PFFTAHAHA!"
He got very close to what could be considered begging.
The pen wasn't even the most ticklish tool he'd endured (It was still pretty damn bad), it's just that it was murder on his sensitive nerves down there in a way feathers and brushes weren't. His soles were always horribly sensitive and the pointiness of the pen was pushing him to the brink of insanity.
And he was not looking forward to cleaning it off.
The pen soon clicked, signaling the retreat of that horribly ticklish point.
"Alright, alright. I was running out of canvas, anyways." Alastor relaxed, panting deeply and he scrunched and unscrunched his foot. Fuck he could still feel it. Phantom sensations.
Sensations which were quickly renewed as Vincent replaced the pen with his gentle fluttering fingers.
"SNRK! Ehehehe- snrk! Pffteheh- SNRK! AHAHA!"
Shit, his feet needed a break. Thankfully Vincent seemed to have forgotten about 'making' him give him breaks tomorrow and was happy to just do as requested.
Hopefully he'll continue to forget that aspect. Then he can tickle him the full 80 seconds tomorrow. Delicious torture for him...
"D-DAHAHAMIT! SNRK! SOHOHOMEWHERE EHEHELSE!"
"Somewhere else, huh?" The tone of Vincent's voice made dread pool in his belly.
"Mhmmmmm, but I don't know, I kinda like tickling these sensitive feet! I guess I could be persuaded to change spots..."
He glanced back at Alastor and made eye contact while continuing his gentle torment of his soles. Damnit, he hadn't forgotten. Seems he actually had a spine here and wouldn't be letting up until he got what he wanted.
"Considering my penalty tomorrow, If you make a promise with me to give me save or rest points every ten seconds, so that I pass a ten-second mark, and then if I fail again, I won't be starting off back at one, but like... at 30, or 50, or 70, whatever I managed to get to before I failed..."
The fluttering picked up its pace, focusing on the most ticklish spots Vincent seemed to have mentally mapped out.
"If you agree to give me that, I will happily move on from these very ticklish feet, do we have a deal, sweetheart?"
If Alastor had wanted a good laugh he was certainly getting one. He was breathless with the sound.
His feet were tingling and tense being tickled to their limits. Every brush and wiggle over spots already written on made him feel like he needed to throw himself out the window.
But past his laughter that shook his whole body, he couldn't find a way out of it. All thoughts spiraled around the massive blaring fact that it tickled like all Hell by God he needed a break from it.
"OHOHO- SNRK- OHOKAY! OHOHOKAY! SNRK! DEHEHEAL! SNRK! IHIHI AHAHAGREE! SNRK!"
Vincent's smug glare flipped to adoration and satisfaction in an instant, the same instant the tickling to his feet finally blessedly stopped.
"There we go! Was that so hard, piglet? One minor agreement that makes sure your dear partner doesn't pass out tomorrow." He happily hummed, putting the utensil in his pocket.
After storing that cursed weapon away, the paler man turned and climbed across the bed until he was propped up over Alastor's body, noses nearly touching. With the release of his legs Alastor immediately planted his feet into the comforter and slowly rubbed them back and forth to try and eliminate the leftover tingling.
He made eye contact with Vincent, taking in his utterly lovestruck expression. "Hi, darling," He placed a quick kiss to either of Alastor's cheeks. "You having fun?"
Yes. And though he'd gotten more comfortable with this all, he still wasn't at the point he was going to answer that question truthfully.
Vincent looked so stupidly happy. And Alastor was stupidly happy to see that.
Seems Vincent was going to become much more openly affectionate now that they've had their talk.
Alastor was unprepared for what exactly it would entail but he was ready to accept it. He certainly wasn't upset with what he was receiving right now, those kisses to his cheeks making him want to giggle like a teenager with a crush.
"Lotta loud giggles and snorts over here, you're just the cutest ticklish piggy there is!" Vincent playfully nuzzled their noses together, before connecting their foreheads. "One of my favorite sounds, up there with every other sound you make!"
"Big talk coming from a squeaky toy as high-pitched as you. Though I must admit I have a fondness for those as well. Just like those eyes."
They truly were gorgeous, weren't they? Alastor was more mesmerized each time he looked at them. What ridiculous words could ever make Vincent believe they were an ugly feature?
Alastor would have to keep doling out compliments if they made Vincent look so adorably shy with that goofy little grin.
"You're gonna kill me with all these sweet words." Vincent said softly as he gentle brushed some of Alastor's hair behind his ear.
SNORT!
Oh no, not another-
"Your ears are a tickle spot?!" Vinecnt sounded as excited a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, Doll, you're just a gem of cute little spots and noises!"
Curse his stupid fucking snort-laugh. At least the one person he was close with seemed to like it for some reason. Why he adored his snorting so much, Alastor couldn’t say. But he was grateful for it.
Didn't completely erase the embarrassment, however. Especially when Vincent began gently tracing the shells of both ears.
A horribly shrill shriek left Alastor's mouth and his shoulders shot up to protect his poor ticklish ears as snorts and squealy laughter escaped him.
Seemed his voice could go almost as high as Vincent's, he just had to be tickled in the right places.
"Ahaha! Snrk! Ehehe- pfftaha- SNRK! Ehehehe! Hic- EHEhehehe!"
Vincent leaned in very close and whispered into his ear something awfully ticklish, with the hand that was stationed there transferring to flutter at his neck. "Cootchie cootchie coo, ticklish little piglet."
His eyes shot wide open as soon as the baby talk left Vincent's mouth and he thrashed wildly.
"SHUHUT IHIHIT -SNRK- VIHIHINCEHENT IHIHI -SNRK- SWEHEHEHEAR! HIC! DOHON'T -SNRK- FUHUHUCKING- AHA!"
"You know, I haven't even tickled your belly yet, and even without it, you're sitting here losing your marbles." Vincent purred happily into the sensitive ear.
He slowly pulled back to straddle Alastor's waist upright, taking his hands to rest on Alastor's sides.
"Think we should change that?" He said casually with an infuriating smirk.
Alastor blinked up at Vincent then cast his gaze to the side and growled, the flush on his face clear as day.
He wasn't sure if Vincent had clocked it, but his stomach was his favorite spot to be tickled. It was by far his most ticklish area but it always made him laugh so hard and happily and it just felt good. It wasn't the same kind of good as Vincent's sides, as Alastor didn't really melt like he did. It just made him embarrassingly happy.
...but like fucking Hell he was gonna make any indication that that was true.
"Do what you want. Tomorrow it will be paid back in kind."
Vincent scoffed playfully and shifted back so his head was right above Alastor's belly. "You'd be as evil tomorrow even if I hadn't tickled you tonight, which is why I'm getting my preemptive revenge."
He laid his head on Alastor's stomach, just beneath Alastor's navel. He shifted his head to look wide-eyed at it.
"Hmmmm, are you seeing this Al? You've got a cute little button of some sort on your belly!" Said in a dramatically astonished explanation. "We need to make sure this little cutie is harmless, time for some exploration!" He was talking as if Alastor was a baby, his face matching the tone with exaggerated theatrical expressions, as he plunged his finger into the navel in question and lightly wiggled it around.
Alastor's face was burning all the way to his ears.
"SH-SHUTIT!" Alastor sputtered. "DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THA-AHAHAHA! SNRK!"
Full body laughter wracked his frame amongst squeals and snorts and very colorful protests.
"FUHUCKING- SNRK! DOHOHON'T S-SOHOHOHOUND LIHIHIKE -SNRK- THAHAT! Yohohohou -hic- LIHIHIttle -snrk- shiIHIHIT! AHAHA!"
The complete and utter embarrassment enveloped him along with the maddeningly ticklish feeling and his hysterical laughter, making his head feel fuzzy as he lost all composure.
"Gasp!" Vincent put a hand to his face, not looking at Alastor as he stared at his naval. "Doll! It's a tickle button! Can you believe it!?"
He hummed and looked like he was very seriously analyzing his stomach, making Alastor burn with embarrassment.
"I'm afraid this little button will need to be thoroughly tested." He gave Alastor a very serious look, speaking so dramatically as if he were playing another game with those kids from all those weeks ago. "Tickle buttons are projects that need to be investigated!" He declared.
Vincent sat his face on Al's belly, peering at the navel with wide theatrical eyes. His mouth was against the sensitive bit right underneath the naval, and he let out purposeful vibrations against the skin, as his hands gently drummed their fingers on the sides of his belly.
"HMMMMMMM..." was expressed loudly through purposeful vibrations.
Alastor was mortified. His stomach was doing flips as he tossed his head back and forth. His eyes were screwed shut. He couldn't believe this.
"AHA! SNRK! Pfftahahaha- SNRK! AHAHAHAHA! Ihihihi'm GOHOHOHOING TOHOHO -SNRRK- KIHIHIHILL YOHOHOU!"
An empty threat, but said with plenty of ferocity.
Vincent sat up abruptly. "I'm afraid that more in-depth research will be needed!" He bared his teeth in a wide grin, watching Al's face with delighted eyes.
..In depth research? What did he-
Both eyes shot open and he sputtered.
"VIHINCENT, dohon't yohohou DARE!"
Alastor's heart was pounding. He twitched and squirmed under his gaze. Excitement pulsed through every vein. Fuck this was going to tickle like the dickens and he couldn't wait...
"What surprising threats!" He gasped, obviously not surprised in the slightest. "Is it possible that this tickle button encourages violence? Well, now it has to be investigated!"
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on either cheek, smirking at the flushed, giggly face. "Don't worry, Baby Doll, I'll save you from this meanie, icky little giggle button!" Playful taunt whispered in a babyish tone.
He pulled back, stabilizing Alastor's hips with his hands, and took in a big gulp of air, before shooting down to deliver a giant raspberry.
"PFFFFBBBBBBBBBTTTTT!" As soon as the air had escaped, he took a small breath of needed air before nibbling the edges of his navel, smug eyes glancing up at Alastor as he did so.
Alastor's back arched high as a helpless ear-piercing shriek of laughter escaped him. He threw his head back and absolutely howled, cackling and snorting as hard as he was physically able.
"AAAAHAHA! SNRK! AHAHA! IHIHI CAHAHA- SNRK! VIHIHIHAHA-!"
And Vincent didn't stop. His teeth kept nibbling on his hyper-sensitive nerves.
So Al didn't stop laughing, didn't stop crying tears of mirth, didn't stop snorting for quite a while.
The longer it went on, the fuzzier his head got. Not just from breathlessness, but from a flood of laughter-driven endorphins seeping into every crease of his brain. He could barely even think aside from the fact that it tickled, leaving him a loopy giggly mess without protest or retort.
It was like everything melted away. His need to be seen a certain way, his anxieties, his pride, his inhibitions, all of it just... faded away as Alastor fizzled into an unknown headspace that just felt so good.
He panted for breaths between giggles and snorts as the tickles shifted from his belly to his neck, a comparatively less ticklish spot.
When those teeth caught beneath his jaw, his squealed and hiccupped without a care in the world.
He was so… happy. He was embraced in a blanket of comfort and laughter and a euphoric loss of composure.
With Vincent. His partner.
Through his tickle-haze, their eyes met, his gaze communicating nothing but empty-headed mirth as he giggled and snorted incessantly.
Vincent pressed their foreheads together.
"I'm so happy right now. You've made me the happiest man in the world. I just want to continue this. Being with you, us making each other laugh, together until we grow old and gray."
Alastor's brain was a happy mushy pile of goo at this point. He heard Vincent talking but it was difficult to really comprehend every word.
He just knew that they were both happy. Overjoyed was probably a more apt descriptor.
Alastor tilted his head up and pressed his lip to Vincent's, though they were wide in a smile as he continued giggling and let out a couple snorts while he was there until he pulled away.
His hands pulled on their restraints as he attempted to reach out. He had honestly forgotten about the belt. His wrists lightly tugged a few times but he was too giggly and blissed out to figure out how to free himself.
"Let me get that for you." Vincent made quick work of the belt and tossed it aside. Immediately Alastor's arms wrapped around Vincent's neck. The taller man laid down on his side and Alastor curled into him, resting his cheek against that spot on his bare chest he had accidentally found those months ago as his shirt was still open. At some point Vincent laid on his back so Alastor could more easily curl into his side.
Alastor was still coming down from his high. That amount of laughter and loving teasing and embarrassment had sent his brain up to the clouds where it was still wanting to stay.
For once in his adult life he just felt so safe... so free to be silly and forget himself.
After a moment, Alastor stirred. His mind had finally come back to him. He felt quite embarrassed but knew it was fine. Vincent still looked up to him and no one else saw their little games they played. They were safe to each other, no matter how silly or 'weak' they might appear or let themselves be.
"You doing alright, tickle bug?"
Alastor giggled and looked up at Vincent. "Don't call me that."
"I don't know. I think it's a great name!" Vincent smile was cheesy and fond, not serious in the slightest.
Alastor hummed and nuzzled back into Vincent's chest. "I'm staying tonight."
He snorted. "No room for argument, huh?"
"Unless you want me to leave?" Alastor asked knowing full well what the answer was.
"Not a chance, doll. You're staying with me." He crushed Alastor in a remarkably strong hug, knocking the wind out of him before letting him go. "I wish you could live with me forever."
"Unfortunately two single men living with each other wouldn't look good to others. But nothing's stopping me from 'staying with a friend' most nights." Alastor put up some air quotes and grinned which Vincent matched.
"I guess you better get some stuff over to your 'friends' house if you plan to stay a while."
"Quite a while." Alastor said decisively.
"That's more than fine with me."
The two relaxed into the mattress with their new position. An arm wrapped around Alastor who was nuzzled and curled into Vincent's side, eyes lightly shut as he breathed in the scent his partner.
They both couldn't wait to see what their relationship brought next.
