CalmlyPanicking

When he first realized he could transition between forms, it scared Viktor. He had to work up the courage to show Jayce this ability, terrified that he’d get scared off and leave.

But Jayce did no such thing. In fact, he blushed and stuttered over his words the first time Viktor revealed this form to him, staring with wide eyes, unable to keep his hands to himself. He grazed his fingers along the gold that lined Viktor’s new body, marvelling and, frankly, ogling at Viktor’s form.

So, since that day, Viktor’s grown quite comfortable transforming into the Herald around the house. In fact, he’d been using it quite a lot recently. 

And why wouldn’t he? That flustered face Jayce makes every time he transforms into his tall, slender, fully-metal masked self was endlessly amusing. Sometimes, Viktor would transform when Jayce was in another room just to see the look of surprise and the blush (ohh that blush) that grew on Jayce’s face when he was greeted with Viktor’s alternate self. Viktor couldn’t get enough of it.

Plus, he could tell just how much the new deep, heavy voice that came with it really got to Jayce, and Viktor just loved using it against him.

“Would you stop that?”

Viktor grinned, though Jayce couldn’t see it. “Stop what, Jayce?”

“You know what. It’s…it’s really distracting.”

“Hm. How so?” Viktor’s voice rumbled low, and he saw Jayce bite his lip.

“Don’t interrogate me.”

“Not interrogating. Just curious,” Viktor loomed over Jayce from behind the couch, who was trying to read a book. But when Viktor started reading the page out loud, it seemed to be a bit too much for Jayce. Good. “I read to you all the time and you never act like this. Why does this form bother you so?”

“It-It doesn’t bother me, it’s just, like…” Jayce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I think it’s hot, Vik. You’re using it against me, this is, like–this is like warfare or something–”

“How am I using this against you? I am merely reading, Jayce. I think you are overthinking–”

“Ohoh that’s so rich, coming from the guy who transformed the other night to seduce me into bed with him.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” Viktor teased, reaching his claw over Jayce’s shoulder to pinch at his side. Jayce squeaked in surprise, body quickly folding sideways away from the claw that only followed him where he squirmed.

“Oh?” Viktor just chuckled, so smug. “Well what do we have here?”

Jayce bit back his giggles as best he could, embarrassed and excited that Viktor was clearly in such a playful mood. The claw kept pinching, gentle and horribly ticklish against his side, making Jayce squeak and squirm against it in a way that was obviously very amusing to Viktor, if his incessant chuckling wasn’t enough to prove it.

But Jayce felt playful too. He wiggled his way out of the claw’s grasp, standing to attention and ignoring the book that fell to the ground from his lap. He stared Viktor down with a nervous smile, holding his hands out in front of him in defense.

“Viktor,” Jayce warned half-heartedly, unable to keep the nervous smile off his face.

Without a word, Viktor slowly sauntered around the couch towards his target. Jayce moved in time with him, but walked backwards so as to not lose his sight on the giant figure known as His Boyfriend that loomed closer and closer.

Then, Jayce’s back hit the wall.

Oh shit.

Jayce felt his eyes widen when he realized there was nowhere to go, and Viktor was only getting closer. He sauntered steadily towards Jayce like he was in no rush. And why wouldn’t he? They both knew Viktor was going to catch him either way, and getting to watch Jayce squirm in the anticipation of it was always the best part.

“Viktor come on–! This is so unfair!” Jayce complained helplessly, his eyes darted around the room for an escape. Jayce’s heart raced like a rabbit on the run. “You’re huge, I can’t– How am I supposed to–”

“I see you planning an escape,” Viktor said, his voice sending a chill down Jayce’s back. “I’ll save you the time. Don’t move.”

Viktor loved how easy Jayce was to command with this voice. He was an easy man to command without it too, don’t get it twisted, but with this new voice of Viktor’s, there was just something different about the way Jayce obeyed. How much more nervous he looked when he did what was asked of him. How he looked almost conflicted with himself for complying, like at any point the power of this new form would take over and gut him at any second.

And yet, he still did as he was told. Because he’s Jayce, and he loves nothing more than doing whatever Viktor says.

“Very good, Jayce,” Viktor drawled, eating up the way Jayce nearly shivered at the praise. Viktor brought the claw up over his own shoulder, if only to just show Jayce what he had in store. “Do you know what I’m going to use this claw for?”

“Viktor, oh my god–”

“Do you?”

Jayce groaned, throwing his hands over his face when he saw just how close Viktor was at this point. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me?”

“No.”

Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle, and the low sound made Jayce whine behind his palms. “Why not? Should be easy enough.”

“It isn’t, and you know that.”

Viktor clicked the claws together a few times just to see Jayce squirm as the sound got closer, his eyes shut in anticipation. “I do know. I also know that you love it-” He emphasized the word with a pinch to Jayce’s side with the claw, proud when Jayce folded into giggles immediately at the minor touch. Oh, he’d worked him up so nicely. “-when I use my claw against you like this.”

“I don’t.”

Viktor tilted his head. “No? Well that’s a shame.” Suddenly, the claw surged forward and grabbed both of Jayce’s wrists, surging them up and binding them together above his head. Those wide, giddy eyes Jayce gave Viktor were worth everything they went through to get to this wonderful point together. 

Viktor brought his masked face down to meet Jayce’s eye-to-eye. “I suppose I’ll have to use it in another way, then. We’ll see if you prefer this method more.”

“Nohoho come on-!” Jayce was giggling before Viktor’s hands even touched down on his torso. They only wiggled inches away, but it was enough to have Jayce squirming in the claw’s hold, near hysterical with anticipation. Jayce made a sound between a whine and a groan as he grit his teeth,“Ohoh you suck!” 

“Not the smartest words to say in your position,” Viktor nearly sung the words, his sharp fingertips touching down softly against Jayce’s sides, not even moving. He just sat his fingers there, letting Jayce grow antsier and antsier. Jayce’s chest rose and fell with his giggling, his stomach sucking in under the light barely-there pressure of those fingers. Viktor wanted to see how far he could push him like this. “Are you nervous?”

“Shut up,” Jayce breathed, his head tossing back against the wall in frustration. “Why are you doing this?” His words were laced with nervous, giddy giggling. Viktor was getting antsy himself at the sight.

“Your squirming fills me with such satisfaction. The way you can hardly stand the anticipation. Your face is pained with excitement,” Viktor’s fingers clawed inward lightly at the word, and Jayce arched his back with a giggly gasp. “I love to be a witness to your downfall. I love that you love it.”

Jayce could only whine and turn his head away, feeling exposed in all the right ways. Viktor had this man down to a T, and he knew Jayce knew it too. 

“You are…k-killing me,” Jayce stuttered as Viktor’s hands slowly crept upward, his touch remaining light and teasing. Viktor didn’t even bother to wiggle his fingers. Just glided them up Jayce’s flanks, up up up to the very top where his ribs met those oh so sensitive underarms. Jayce gasped hard at the sensation, his squirming increasing tenfold. “Viktor oh my god!” Jayce’s voice pitched up, and the desperation in his voice was music to Viktor’s ears.

“What would you like me to do, Jayce?”

Jayce groaned like he was in pain, “Oh don’t do this…plehehease not like this, I–I cahan’t,” His words were high and breathy, littered with nervous giggling that flowed out of him like it craved to be more than what it was. He needed more. Jayce’s voice dripped with need, and Viktor had every intention of exploiting that.

“You are so easy to work up,” Viktor teased, letting his fingers slowly scribble into both hollows of Jayce’s underarms. Jayce’s breath hitched, now holding in his reactions as if to prove Viktor wrong.

Luckily for Jayce, Viktor knows a challenge when he sees one.

“Such a big, strong man you are,” Viktor’s voice rumbled deeply, letting his fingers tap up and down his flanks just to watch Jayce squirm. Jayce had his lips tightly shut, knowing that if he even tried to retort, he’d fall into desperate giggling just like Viktor wanted. 

Viktor brought his fingertips to the edge of Jayce’s shirt, teasing at the skin underneath with featherlight touches. He could feel Jayce’s belly twitch at the touch, and Jayce had to throw his head to the side in fluster at the feeling. 

Jayce’s belly was always such a hot spot on him. It wasn’t even that the spot was his worst, that title easily belonged to his underarms. No, his belly was a place that made him whine pitifully. Touching there turned him soft in an instant, made him melt and bend to Viktor’s every beck and call. Especially at the very bottom of it, the spot at his waist below his belly button. 

And now Viktor was stroking the spot lightly, so slow, and Jayce’s knees felt weak with it. He was almost tempted to plead with Viktor to just get it over with and tickle him, please god just tickle him already.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait a second longer, because before Jayce knew what hit him, those cold metal fingertips were scribbling madly at that spot just above the hem of his pants, another hand digging into his exposed underarms in a way that sent Jayce arching off the wall with a shriek.

The duel sensations were overwhelming, and Jayce found himself a hysterical mess before he had the chance to take a breath and prepare himself.

“AhAHAaha nohoho-! Vik– Vihihik plehehease-!” Jayce cackled desperately, squirming this way and that as the mixed signals of such different tickling styles sent him keening. The way the fingers under his arm vibrated the flesh, sometimes dipping lower into his upper ribs just to make him squeal, before inching back up to take advantage of such a sensitive area being so easily exposed.

That tickling compounded with those evil, gentle fingers at his lower belly made him kick uncontrollably. He sucked in his stomach as much as possible, but with his laughing there was nothing he could do. Those cold fingers just kept scribbling, singling in on that awful pocket in his hip that made Jayce nearly cry.

“I cahaha–! Ahaha gahaha-! Plehehe–!” Fuck, he couldn’t even talk anymore. Viktor’s got him right where he wants him, and with that claw gripping his wrists tight to the wall over his head, he was entirely helpless. The realization that if Viktor wanted to, he could keep him here for hours like this, begging and pleading and giggling like a lunatic at his mercy. The thought made Jayce wail through his cackles.

“You poor soul,” Viktor crooned, before taking his hand out of Jayce’s underarm just to tease both hip pockets at the same time with his fingertips. Jayce’s laughter raised in pitch at the sensation, quickly throwing his face into his upper arm and hiding as best he could. 

But Viktor could see everything. He saw the tears forming at the corners of Jayce’s eyes, the desperate smile piercing his face, the betraying blush that travelled from the tips of his ears down his chest. Viktor got a view of Jayce’s breaking, and could see nothing but pure, unbridled glee in every movement and sound Jayce made.

“It cannot be so bad, right?” Viktor asked, before digging his thumbs into Jayce’s hips just to conflict his own words. Maybe this form still held some evil inside it after all, because that tickled so much more than it should have. “Oh, this is killing you, Jayce. Why not just break free? Get away if it’s so horrible, no?”

Yeah. This form had to be making Viktor 10x more evil.

“You suhuhuck!” Jayce whined, kicking at Viktor’s steel legs and finding the form not moving an inch. Oh god, the Herald form made Viktor fucking unbreakable. Something coiled inside Jayce’s belly at the realization, and he found himself falling limp in Viktor’s grasp, succumbing completely to his ticklish undoing. Jayce’s brain was falling to mush, unable to think of anything besides, it tickles, it tickles, it fucking tickles, “Shihit! It tihickles Viktohor!”

“Mm, this I can see,” Viktor hummed, before granting Jayce an ounce of mercy. 

Viktor unburrowed his thumbs from Jayce’s hips, planting his palms to Jayce’s sides firmly to ground him. Jayce panted through flustered giggling, still twitching under Viktor’s solid touch. He gasped when Viktor’s thumbs started to stroke, but relaxed when the touch was more comforting than ticklish.

“Fuhuck you are evil,” Jayce sniffled, pulling at his arms in the claw. “Agh, I’m gonna be sore.”

“Oh-” Viktor seemed to realize then how much Jayce had been pulling, quickly retracting his claw and catching Jayce when the man found his knees too weak to catch himself. Jayce leaned his forehead against Viktor’s steel torso, letting himself just breathe and soak in his release. 

Viktor’s hand found Jayce's upper back, bringing him in closer. Jayce could feel Viktor’s body shifting against him, changing and morphing back into its old self, but Jayce didn’t bother watching. Instead, he reveled in the feeling of the giant, steel being shifting into his soft, warm, bony partner once again. 

Jayce’s arms wrapped tightly against Viktor’s now human torso, embracing him deeply. 

“Still evil. Even when you’re all soft,” Jayce pinched at his side teasingly, and Viktor hardly flinched away, just giggling into the crook of Jayce’s neck.

“Do not start something you know you can’t finish yourself,” Viktor teased, leading them back to the couch for a good cuddle. As they settled in together, locking their limbs in place like it was muscle memory to know each other’s bodies so precisely, Viktor mumbled into Jayce’s chest, “I didn’t push you too far? That form can sometimes…get the best of me, I suppose. I do not want to hurt you.”

Jayce just chuckled, kissing the top of Viktor’s head. “I trust you more than you know, V. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

“Ugh, do you have to do that right now, Cas?” Dean shifted as Castiel wrapped his arms around the other. He had wedged himself behind the other on the couch, so Dean was forced to the edge of the cushion, Castiel’s legs curling around his shins so that he stayed secured. Dean hissed when Castiel’s hands burrowed their way under his shirt, resting against his bare stomach. “I’m trying to get some work done.”

Others might have been offended by the apparent rejection, but Castiel didn’t mind. He could hear the gentle undertones beneath Dean’s gruffness, the way he didn’t bother to move away from the other at all but allowed Castiel to press his forehead against the dip between Dean’s shoulder blades. He had learned early on while dating the other that Dean was a complainer. He needed to rage and bicker and bluster for a moment, but it rarely revealed some true feeling on his part. Castiel theorized that it was a natural defense born from years of abandonment. Sam theorized it was because he was an asshole.

So Castiel did not budge, and Dean merely sighed and turned back to his computer, delving back into his research. There was possibly a case with a ghost haunting a young woman’s apartment, though as Dean got to know the situation more clearly, he was beginning to suspect the early stages of grief instead. The only reason he was still tolerating it was because Sam was clearly getting along with their client with a romantic charm he didn’t usually exhibit, and Dean didn’t want to squash that for him.

Sam was out at the moment picking up more supplies, so it was just Dean and Castiel for the moment. Snow had started to flurry down and Castiel watched it speculatively as it swirled lazily towards the ground. Now that he was spending more time merely existing on Earth, he was learning to appreciate these simple things he had always taken for granted. It was true that humans suffered to an extent that Castiel never truly envied them enough to regret his own angelic form, but he had to admit that there was quite a bit of beauty in their everyday lives that almost made it worth it.

A yelp drew him from his thoughts, and he blinked. Dean’s elbows had darted in, momentarily trapping his hands. He let go now, though it seemed rather reluctant.

“Your hands are freezing.”

“I know. That’s why I’m using you to warm them up."

Dean rolled his eyes, though a small smile peeked through his annoyed exterior. “Can’t you just find some gloves or something? And why are you even cold anyway? Can’t you shut that off with your angel powers or something?”

“It’s true that angels don’t typically feel normal, human sensations like pain or cold,” Castiel admitted. “But we can also choose to experience them if we like. I often do when I’m around you, as I enjoy being able to feel when you touch me. The cold is worth that.”

Though Castiel could not see it, a gentle flush had covered Dean’s features. “Well,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “Just don’t move your hands too much. I don’t need your icy touch making me just as cold as you.”

Castiel merely hummed, the sound sending pleasant vibrations down Dean’s back.

In fairness to Dean, he did stay still, for a moment. But Dean was warm, and Castiel was unused to the cold that humans so often had to bear and therefore less used to handling it. After a few minutes, his hands began to roam again. Dean grunted but otherwise didn’t comment. Dean’s body must have run on some higher temperature, because everywhere Castiel touched was almost feverishly warm, though he could tell intuitively that Dean wasn’t sick. After having spent so much time around the older Winchester, Castiel had learned to intuit certain things about his body, aided in his perceptions by his angelic powers that other humans close to him might not have. He could tell when Dean was sick or healthy, worried or joyful, in pain or experiencing pleasure, and the general overall temperament of his body—sometimes before even Dean himself knew. Right now, he could tell Dean was blushing, which Castiel might have teased him about, but he knew it would only make the other self-conscious.

Eventually the mere touch of his skin wasn’t enough, and Castiel’s hands moved higher towards the warmer pockets underneath his arms. Dean’s breath hitched and his elbows darted in once more, though it was clear he was attempting to be subtle about it this time.

Dean was ticklish. It was a fact that had become apparent quickly within their relationship and one that Castiel had done his best not to acknowledge. Though Castiel couldn’t imagine why, Dean seemed especially embarrassed about the sensitivity, and so he made a point not to say anything when Dean would squirm when Cas kissed his neck or bite his lip when the angel’s touch became too gentle.

He could also tell that Dean desperately wanted to be tickled, but as Castiel was not sure how to reconcile these two desires, he usually left the hunter alone.

Today, though, he was in a cuddly mood and Dean was warm and distracted and the opportunity was too good to pass up. He had never really tickled Dean in earnest, and he had to admit he was curious what would happen if he did.

With his fingers still stuck under Dean’s arms, Castiel began to drum his fingers slightly, something that could easily be written off as an idle action. Dean twitched, the muscles in his arms tightening. Castiel pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck, placing deliberately gentle kisses over the spot in a manner that sent goosebumps scattering out from his lips.

“You’re awfully touchy today,” Dean remarked in what he clearly hoped was a casual tone. Castiel smiled. He could hear the hitch in his voice, the tense set to his shoulders.

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” Dean said slowly. “I guess not. It’s just unusual, is all I was saying.”

“I missed you,” was all Castiel said in response, which certainly wasn’t untrue. It had been about a week since the two had last seen each other. He had a feeling the time had passed faster for himself, as time did not move in the same manner for angels, but any time that went by without Dean was far from ideal.

Castiel continued his drumming, but this time dug his fingers in more under the guise of adjusting his position. Dean exhaled sharply, choking back a sound that might have been a laugh, though it was hard to tell.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“I hope I’m not distracting you.” Fingers scuttling a tad lower.

He could sense the smile growing on Dean’s face, see the way his shoulders shook, how he had stopped typing anything a while ago. “You’re not,” he said gruffly, each word exiting him with careful control.

Castiel snorted, not believing him in the slightest. He continued his game for a few minutes more, allowing his hands to roam over Dean’s body in much too light a manner for the latter’s liking. Castiel was sure that Dean had caught on to his game if only because he was doing a much better job of hiding his reactions than before. He had given up on even trying to look busy, instead conserving all of his efforts towards holding still and keeping quiet. It was possible he could have kept up the front for a while, and Castiel didn’t want to run out of time before Sam got home; there was no way that Dean would enjoy having this particular weakness exploited in front of his brother.

With a somewhat ironic devilish grin, Castiel dug in at last, wiggling his fingers quickly over Dean’s sides.

Dean jolted forward with a sharp burst of laughter, his arms jerking back to block Castiel’s hands to no avail. The angel was quicker and moved to drilling into his ribs instead, which had proper laughter flowing out of Dean. “C-Cas! Whahahat the fuhuhuck, c-cut it out!”

“I didn’t realize you were ticklish, Dean. You should have told me—secrets aren’t good for a relationship."

“I’m nohohot!”

“You seem pretty ticklish from where I’m standing.”

There was a choked curse in reply as Dean arched backwards, sliding down slightly in Castiel’s lap as he squirmed.

It was everything he had hoped it would be and more. Though it was not particularly hard to read Dean, the truth was usually veiled through a gruff exterior that he refused to let drop, even around Cas. Now, Dean had no hope of hiding his true feelings. As such, Castiel took his time observing his boyfriend in each and every facet of this rare moment. His grin was stretched so wide that his cheeks pressed up into his eyes which were scrunched shut, wrinkles forming at the corners. There was a hearty flush that was not contained merely to his cheeks but spread across his entire face and lit up his neck bright red with a flustered pleasure. He was doing very little to stop Castiel as well, his hands instead strangling the cushions besides him in a death grip as his elbows helplessly darted into his sides.

He was struggling to hold himself up as his body clearly longed to collapse entirely and slide off of the couch and away from Castiel’s devious fingers, which were currently pinching a path up Dean’s sides that was driving him crazy. His legs were poised and bent, occasionally slamming into the ground when Cas got a good spot. And the best part, the part that Castiel could not notice without a flutter of joy, was how the more everything tickled, the more Dean pressed himself back against Cas—into the tickling. It was terribly obvious and Castiel wasn’t sure even Dean himself was aware he was doing it.

Castiel wasn’t sure he had observed Dean in a more breathtaking form than at this moment.

Dean was bellowing out curses and protests, but it hardly mattered because after the first initial ‘cut it out’, Dean hadn’t requested for the tickling to stop once. He had called Castiel an asshole a few times, let out several errant ‘fuck’s, but had not made an actual appeal for the activity to end. Nor had he once tried to so much as bat Castiel’s hands away.

“I have a theory,” Castiel said, transfixed by the way Dean’s legs kicked out spasmodically when his hips were squeezed. “I’ve been developing it while tickling you.”

“Oh yeheheheah?” Dean paused to burst into a cackling hit. The hips seemed to be a fairly bad spot, and Castiel could tell Dean was struggling a lot more than before not to pry his hands away. “Whahat’s thahahat?”

“I think you like this.”

There was a slight pause, and then Dean let out an indignant noise that was fairly close to a whine. “Fuhuhuhuck ohohohoff!”

“That’s not a denial.”

“I s-swehehear to god, Cas—”

“If you didn’t want me to do this, you would stop me.” Castiel let up on his hips, to which Dean sagged in relief only to startle and hiss when Castiel began fluttering his fingers over his neck instead.

“Cohohohold!”

Castiel cringed. “I am sorry about that.” He concentrated for a moment, slowly regulating his temperature to something much more comfortable. Dean’s eyes widened at the sudden change, but he couldn’t devote too much focus to it. He was too busy giggling over the current assault on his neck. He had slid fully off the couch by now, his arms clasped tightly around himself in a self-hug as he curled forward on the floor. His face was much redder than before, and Castiel had a feeling that he was reaching a limit, even if he did like it. He just had to try one more thing before he let up.

Leaning forward, Castiel placed his lips against the back of Dean’s neck and blew. He was pretty sure humans referred to it as a ‘raspberry’, though he couldn’t fathom why as the action had relatively little in common with the fruit.

Dean shrieked, his head jerking back to try to push him off. “CAHAHAHAS!”

Castiel hummed in satisfaction. “I’ll have to try that one again.”

Before Dean could half-heartedly protest the statement, there was a creak at the door which indicated that Sam had returned from the store. Quickly, Castiel flickered in and out of space, reappearing on the opposite side of the couch, far away from the still flustered Dean. The hunter cleared his throat, quickly clambering to his feet in time for Sam to walk into the room holding several plastic bags along his arms. His brows furrowed slightly as he took in Dean’s flustered state.

“Dean.” He glanced over at Castiel, who was, perhaps unfairly, much better at recuperating than the other and raised a hang in calm greeting. “Cas. Everything good? I thought I heard loud voices when I was outside the door.”

Dean and Sam both noticed that his shirt was still tousled and pulled up from before, and the former quickly jerked it back down in a manner much less casual than he hoped. “Just the TV. Trying to pass the time while you were out. You got the stuff?”

Sam frowned, clearly not believing his story but deciding in that moment that it wasn’t worth investigating. “Yeah. Except the rope. They didn’t have any that would work.”

The two brothers headed into the kitchen to go through supplies, but not before Dean shot Castiel a look on his way out. The look, on the surface, said you’re dead, but Castiel could detect the hesitant eagerness behind it that said what he was really thinking: let’s pick this up later. Castiel decided he would continue enduring the cold for now, if only so he could use Dean to warm himself up later.