honey sweet!

Knowing this, and seeing the poorly concealed giddiness in his eyes brings a smile to your face. Ryland knows you've made your choice, and holds his hand out in front of him.

"C'mon, wait, wait wait-"

You laugh, longer than you usually would. It's all so silly. “Nah.”

In a split second, you leap over, and barrel head-first into your target. You attack without mercy: your hands aim ticklish jabs at his sides, his stomach, his ribs. He curls up instantly, careless giggles and useless bargaining immediately filling the room.

"Yes yes yes, get him!" Rocky exclaims.

"Rohock! Have some sympathy!"

"No!" Normally, when there is a dispute, Rocky is quick to point out who started it - but in times like these, it is unclear to all of you. Grace may have started the shoving, but only because you tried to block his view of the screen.

You glance up at Grace, who has backed even further against the wall in his struggling, his shirt dishevelled. He sees the look in your eyes, and starts giggling.

“Hah- okay, okahay, what…whatever it is you’re thinking of doING-” His voice pitches up as you lean closer, grabbing his midriff. He attempts to block you with his hands, but not much effort goes into the gesture.

“Listen, listen, we can talk ABOUT- OH NO-” The rest of his sentence is swallowed by a shriek, because you’ve ignored him, and instead shoved your head under his shirt to plant a raspberry against his stomach. Ryland bats ineffectually at your head, his torso twisting and shaking with high pitched laughter - and then, adorably, he snorts. You withdraw after a moment - partly to catch your breath, and partly so you can watch him giggle himself silly as he recovers.

“Ha- oh fudge-” He mutters, an unabashed grin still lingering on his face.

Rocky chimes up from behind, tapping his foot. “…What was that, question?”

You both pause, glancing down at him. “Huh?”

“The noise.”

“What, this?” You immediately lean in and give your companion another raspberry. The shrieking returns, and he keeps trying to suck his stomach in to get away. It doesn’t work.

“Yes.” Rocky shuffles.

“Care to explain, Dr. Grace?” You grin, poking unpredictably at his sides with one hand and holding him for stability with the other. Ilyukhina's vodka was dangerous.

Grace whines at the suggestion, pushing lightly at your hands.

“Oh, why mehehe?”

“It’s, uhhh- s'your turn to field a Rocky question. I did the last one.”

 “Ha- oh jeez, do I have to?” He looks at Rocky pleadingly.

“Yes.” 

“Great. So it’s called a raspberry-EEE-” 

His sentence devolves into a shrill squeal. Maybe it’s a little mean you interrupted him to give Rocky another demonstration. Oddly, though, it's hard to find a trace of guilt in your heart.

“…Like earth fruit, question?”

You draw back, nodding in Rocky's direction. “Yep.”

Ryland rakes a hand through his hair, and glares. His betrayal is completely staged.

“You’re not -gonna make this easy for me, are you?”

You shrug, intoxicated laughter threatening to drown your words.

“You're the one taking ages to explain.”

“Why called raspberry, question?”

“I dohon't know, bud, you'll have to check the database!” His breath hitches when you start spidering slowly over his ribs. He pouts, and if anything it just motivates you to continue.

“Grace laugh a lot when raspberry.”

“Yea, bud, because it really TICKLES-”

You do it again, because he's not exactly pushing you away. Grace curls inwards, holding onto your shoulders for dear life as he laughs.

"Raspberries work anywhere else, question?"

Ryland just giggles helplessly, his grip on you tightening, making absolutely no moves to stop you. Regardless, you take pity, and ease off a bit.

“Go on.” You nod for him to continue, lightly squeezing his sides. He's barely stopped laughing, clearly just as giggly as you after a couple drinks.

“Yea, thehey do.” He mutters, a note of resignation in his voice.

"Like where, question?"

He pauses.

...There is no universe where you manage to stop Grace from immediately burying his face against your neck. No universe where you push him away before he takes a deep breath. And no universe where he doesn't then declare, with all the smugness in the world:

"Here."

And then you feel it.

Grace's beard really tickles.

You manage to shout a single expletive before you're lost to unfiltered cackling. Your body seizes in its hysterics, trying to writhe out of the way - but every movement only seems to trap him further against your shoulder. There's nowhere to go. Besides, in your half-drunk state, where every touch feels like dozy sunlight on a nice afternoon, you don't particularly want to go anywhere.

You still protest, though.

"GRACE! Plehehease!"

"Sorry," He pauses, chuckles. "Is your neck too ticklish?"

"Shut UP-" Your voice slides higher when his stubble brushes your collarbone, and squeaky giggles wreak havoc on your little remaining coherency.

"You want me to stop talking?"

"YES!"

"Good. Raspberries make it kinda hard to talk, so that works out for both of us." He blows another one to illustrate his point.

"GRACE-" You shout between giggles, infuriated. He ignores you - just nuzzles slightly closer, the buzzing of his beard on your skin sending you into utter hysterics.

"So..." He leans back to look down at your audience. "Any more questions, Rock?"

"Not sure."

"Ok. Well, I'm aiming to repay my four raspberries here, so I've only got two more left. Better think of one fast."

"...You are both very drunk."

"S'not a question, bud."

"...Why do raspberries work on stomach but not sides, question?"

"I meannn," He shrugs. "I never said they didn't."

"Great," You huff, trying to extricate yourself from the odd half-hug Grace has trapped you in.

"It is great, actually." He pulls you closer like it's nothing, and nudges at your shirt.

"You know what's not great? Cheating at Mariokart."

He doesn't say anything - just takes another deep breath. You brace yourself, hoping to contain your reactions a little better.

It doesn't work.

"ahaHA-" Your legs kick out wildly. "RockEE- HELP!"

"What would I do? Am in ball." He's got a point, unfortunately.

Grace finally pauses for breath, and you think he might be about to show mercy.

But then he looks at Rocky, and looks at you, and frowns.

"Hm, I wonder..."

He grabs your leg, pulling it straight. His hand rests on the cuff of your shorts, above your exposed knee, stabilising it.

Your eyes go wide.

"No."

"What, you think it'll work?"

You hesitate. He doesn't bother letting you contemplate further - just leans in, and brings his mouth to the skin behind your knee.

It's awful. It's wonderful. It's so stupid and ridiculous. You smile so wide. You laugh so hard.

This chaos is comfortable to you both, and you know neither of you would change it.

It takes a while for you to notice that Ryland has stopped - you're still laughing when he turns you around to face him.

"Uh oh. Someone's got a case of the giggles."

There's a special kind of withering glare you reserve only for when Ryland really annoys you - but you use it here, just for fun. Just to see him tut and roll his eyes.

"Happy?" You fold your arms.

"Very." He smirks. You shove at him gently.

"Still do not understand why called raspberry." Rocky crawls closer. "On Erid we call it-"

He stops. The quiet that follows tells you all you need to know.

"...Rocky..." You start.

"Nevermind." He chimes, moving to scuttle away.

Grace grins wildly.

"No, no. Continue. What do you call it on Erid?"

The conversation devolves rapidly, and you lean back to watch. The night is still young, it seems. Plenty of time for Rocky to witness some more of the incredible stupidity you are all accustomed to.