gabe's tickle blog

“I… well- I appreciate the sentiment, but isn’t this too much?” Simeon muttered, a bit scattered by Asmo’s burst of energy. Asmo grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the vanity, shoving a big fluffy brush in his face and patting his face with loose powder. In a matter of minutes, Simeon’s natural features were enhanced by the light touch of highlighter and the shiny gloss Asmo had applied to his lips.

The demon stepped back, admiring his work, snapping his fingers. “Alright! Phase two!” Asmo set his phone up on a small tripod, a ring light shining in Simeon’s eyes. How much effort was this going to take?

He stood there awkwardly, arms rigid at his sides, smiling brightly at the camera. Asmo frowned, “Simi, you gotta be more fluid! Act like an actual living angel! Not a statue!”

He fussed around Simeon, putting arms into place, adjusting his posture, before hurrying back over to the camera. It reminded the angel of a movie director, making sure everything was as it should be. But it seemed that Asmo’s corrections weren’t sticking.

“Natural! Try not to be so stiff! Here-”

Asmo sauntered up behind him, humming and grabbing Simeon’s exposed hips. “Now, turn this way, and- oh? What was that?”

A very girlish squeak reverberated through Asmo’s room, the high ceilings making it bounce around like bells. Did.. did that sound come from him?

Asmo experimentally shifted his fingers to the inside of Simeon’s hip dips, making the angel squirm out of his grasp with a yelp. Oh no.

Now, Simeon had known Asmo for a long time. He knew this look. The playful eyes under his long lashes, the innocent smile on his pink lips, and his twitching hands hanging daintily by his sides. This, was no longer Asmodeus. The ruthless tickle monster that teased, cooed, and fawned over its victims had fallen to the Devildom as well.

“Are you still ticklish after all these years, Simeon?” Asmo questioned, slowly walking towards him. He was practically beaming, his nails glinting in the light. His long, very tickly looking nails.

“Ah, Asmodeus, I- ahahaha! Wahahait!”

Those nails were now skittering around Simeon’s hips, making the Angel squirm and jolt away from Asmo. “Awh! This still gets you, doesn’t it? I remember your hips being bad, doesn’t make sense why you keep them on display all the time, hm?”

Simeon was trying his best to avoid the delicate camera setup, but failed, falling to the ground beside it. “Asmo! There’s no need to do something this childish! We’re civil, mature, angels and demons are we not?” His flushed cheeks were not helping the situation.

“Oh? But I remember differently, dear~ I remember you loooved to tickle me and my brothers in the Celestial Realm! You were always too strong for me to properly get you back, but now…” Asmo smirked, placing his nails on Simeon’s sides. “Now, I have the upper hand!”

Simeon was thrown into laughter again when he started raking up and down his ribs and sides, kneading into his hips for good measure. “Ahahahasmohohoho! I’m sohohohoreehehee!” He was squirming back and forth, trying to escape tickles on both sides, but Asmodeus saw a golden opportunity.

“Gotcha~” he purred as he pinned Simeon on his stomach. “You really do love exposing your worst spots don’t you? I remember you used to go wild when Lucifer got you here,” he reminisced as he traced under Simeon’s shoulder blades.

“WAihAIhit nOhoHO-” Simeon let out a surprisingly angelic screech and tried to bat at the demon’s hands, but no luck. “Your wings… they should be abouuuut…” Asmo mumbled to himself while Simeon squealed and kicked his legs.

“NAHAHAHA AHAHAHASMOHOHODEHEHUS-”

“There we go! I found them! And what have I told you about calling me Asmo~?” He kneaded gently at the two ribs under Simeon’s shoulderblades, close to his spine, where his wings would be if they were in the Celestial Realm. His wings had always been a death spot, one he was glad still brought out the brightest cackles from the angel.

Simeon had gone boneless, completely lost in laughter. It was something he missed, honestly. Camaraderie with his brothers had always been something he valued, and since coming to the Devildom, he had made it a mission to gain it back. This was not the most conventional way of doing it, sure, but Asmo was obviously having lots of fun. And maybe Simeon was too.

The demon giggled along with the angel, slowing down his tickles. Letting Simeon get up, he gave one last scribble to his neck, making him scrunch cutely.

“Dahahawwww! Look at you! That’s what I wanted to see! You’re practically glowing!” Asmo grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of the giggly angel.

Simeon caught his breath and blinked, leaning over the phone. “How did it turn out?”

“Soooooooooo cute!” Asmo squealed, hugging him tight. “We need to make this your profile picture! Oh! And we can go get dessert to celebrate my success! Simeon and Asmo-chan lunch date, I’ll get so many followers!”

Suddenly, Simeon was being whisked away again, but he didn’t mind. His online presence didn’t matter to him, what mattered was spending time with his once-brother, even if it did mean future tickle attacks.

Later that evening, Solomon and Simeon had finished up their duties. After completing his pumpkin pie, the human had left to go set up all the tables, thankfully not cooking anything else. Simeon felt bad, he could see Solomon was proud of it, but there was no way he could let anyone, not even Beel, eat it.

But maybe it was okay? What if the pie was not toxic despite its looks? Maybe he could sneak a taste…

And sneak a taste he did, Simeon gently took a piece of the whipped cream, or at least that’s what he thought it was, and licked it off his finger.”

“Huh… this is quite nice… wait what!?”

Did he just think it tasted nice? No no this has to be some trick.

Simeon tried another little bit of the cream, and it did in fact taste nice.

“Ah Simeon! What are you doing!?” Solomon caught the angel red handed.

Simeon turned his head around and stared wide eyed - oh. He can feel it now. There was something wrong with the pie after all, and it was not the taste. It was the weird powers Solomon’s food always came with.

“Solomon…” The brunette couldn’t fight it now.

“What? What has gotten into you? First you start eating my pie and now you are looking at me funny…” He pouted.

The urge was overwhelming despite only having a small piece - “I am going to tickle you.”

“Huh-HEY!” Solomon cried out as Simeon punched on him, wrestling to pin his arms up.

“I’m sorry… it must be done… I must tickle you…”

“Wait wait what why!? Aaah!!! S-Simeohohon!”

Simeon successfully managed to pin the white haired boy's arms up with one hand and used the other to poke his exposed armpits to see if he was ticklish.

“Oho? What do we have here?”

“Ahahah! What are you doooihihihing! Stahahaap!”

“I cannot, I just… have this awful urge to tickle you… I blame whatever weird things you put into that pie or yours!”

“I-I didn’t do anythihihihiiing I sweahahahahahar! Aaack!! Simeon!!”

The brunette had let go of his arms now and dove both hands into his armpits, causing Solomon to throw his head back with even more laughter.

“HAHAHAAH SIHIHIHIHIMEOHOHOHON!!! THAT'S MY WEAK SPOT HAHAHAHA!!!”

“Excellent… heh, seeing you like this is quite amusing my friend~ You’re always so sly, maybe this will knock you down a peg.”

Simeon smiled, almost maniacally, as the white haired boy continued to squirm under him.

“D-Don’t make me call Asmo hahahahaha!!!”

“I think Asmo would love to join me~”

“Nohohohoo!!!”

“What’s this about me~?”

Simeon stopped tickling as soon as the familiar voice of Asmodaeus was heard behind him.

“Are you playing tickles without me~ How could you!” Asmo pouted.

“Uh… hey Asmo…” Solomon gulped nervously.

“Asmodaeus… please try some of Solomon’s pumpkin pie… and tell me what you think… I just tried some right now and I need someone else to test this…”

Simeon noticed as the fifth born looked terrified at the idea of eating Solomon’s cooking, but the fact that someone else had already tried it and was living in front of him to tell the tale made him curious.

He approached and also swiped a bit of whipped cream from the pie, licking his finger in curiosity. “Huh… why is this good… I don’t see what the big deal is- oh.”

Asmo stared at Solomon and Simeon on the ground, the human looking up in fear. “Ohh~ Hehe… I see now Simeon… I too have this strong desire to just tickle my dear Solomon… perhaps we should continue together~?”

Despite the multiversal disaster that led to their introduction, he was sure Dr. Stange would get along with the other Spider-Men. This was how he ended up at Stephen’s large mansion, with his two dear friends by his side. And indeed, it was strange that the door opened and let them in automatically, while there was no response from Stephen when he called.

“I don’t think he’s home,” Peter said after looking around the ground floor first. He gazed at the stairs and called again: “Stephen?”

The other peters laughed. “See? Told you it’s strange,” Peter 3 said. 

“It wasn’t funny the first time, so don’t do it a second time,” Peter 2 scolded him, again while laughing because of the unfunny joke. Peter 1 let the two quarrel while he shot a web to the ceiling and swung to the first floor. 

“Stephen? Wong?”

They were not here, no one seemed to be. But the doors let him in so… 

“Hey, what’s this?” he heard Peter 2 ask, and he looked down to see a red cloak join the two. Oh!

“That’s Stephen’s cloak!” Excited, Peter joined them again and he tapped the cloak that was vividly making movements as if it was trying to talk to his friends.

“Eh, Mr. Cloak! Could you lead us to Dr. Strange?” Peter asked, but the cloak was busy twirling around Peter 2 and Peter 3.

“Magical,” Peter 3 whispered, poking the fabric curiously.

“Mr. Cloak? Your eh, your attention please,” Peter tried to interfere when nothing useful was happening since the cloak’s appearance. But when he tried to grab it with both hands, the cloak suddenly wrapped around his arms and tied them together.

“Hey hey hey! Come on now? Get off me!” Peter’s superstrength was failing horribly against the Cloak of Levitation’s powers, and he tried to wriggle free, wobbling backwards as he tried to remove Dr. Strange’s cloak from his arms.

“I think it’s attached itself to you Pete,” Peter 3 said playfully, tugging at the red fabric with little effort. Meanwhile Peter ended up with his back against Peter 2 who was laughing at his predicament.

“Ha ha, very funny guys. Would you help me take it off?” Peter asked, struggling with his bound arms. Peter 3 grabbed the fabric and started to pull.

“Trying without ripping it,” he huffed.

“Trust me, that thing won’t rip,” Peter said, still confused why Stephen wasn’t here and why his cloak was messing with him right at this very moment when he was so eager to show off his friendship with the wizard. This was not going according to plan.

“Need a hand?” Peter 2 asked lazily while Peter 3 kept pulling at the cloak, stretching out Peter’s arms as he tried to take it off to no avail.

“I could - use - a hand - or two, yeah!” Peter 3 huffed. Peter 1 was leaning backwards against Peter 2, pulling back heavily as they tried to free his arms from their random new cage, when suddenly he felt fingers move under his arms, right under his armpits.

“HUWAH!” Peter cackled, tugging even harder, and Peter 3 yelped as he fell forward, sandwiching Peter 1 between them.

“Guhuhuys! Peheheter, stop that! Nohoho!” Peter 1 laughed, but the oldest Peter kept tickling his underarms. 

“What are you doing?” Peter 3 moved back and caught his breath, watching Peter 1 squirming and giggling hysterically.

“I’m tickling him. It could help, since you know, he might use more strength. Keep pulling,” Peter 2 instructed, and to Peter’s horror, Peter 3 started pulling again, stretching his arms out and leaving them vulnerable to the dancing fingers of Peter 2.

“Heyahahaha! Nohoho it’s not hehelping! Try sohohomething else!” 

Dr. Strange’s cloak was really strong, what the hell! Three Spider-Men, against a cloak?! 

“It’s really not working,” Peter 3 agreed, and he let go of the cloak, only for the cloak to embrace its freedom. It started flying, with Peter.

“Huwaaahaha you guhuhuys hehehelp!” Peter cried when he was literally levitated by the Cloak of Levitation. Peter 2 caught him with one arm around his waist and continued pulling him down, and also still tickled him - what the!

“Peheheter! Stohohop tickling mehehe!”

“Come help out here,” Peter 2 told Peter 3, and together they started pulling Peter 1 down.

“Why do you tickle him?” Peter 3 asked. Peter 2 shrugged.

“Like I said, it might help. Or not.” He chuckled, and Peter 1 could hear Peter 2 react with a chuckle as well. Oh no.

“HAHAhaah! Thihis ihihisn’t fuhuunny!” Peter laughed when both Peters started tickling his poor outstretched torso. He kicked his legs and struggled against the cloak that still captured his sore arms like some sort of super cloth.

“What is that thing anyway?” Peter 3 asked.

“Well, it’s a Wizard’s cloak, a magical cloak,” Peter 2 observed dryly. The two of them were paying much more attention to their conversation of their own than to Peter 1 who was getting really sore arms, and a sore throat from laughing his head off.

Everything that happened, from Stephen’s cloak trolling him to his two brothers tickling him, it all felt like it was without reason. But all of a sudden, it proved to be at least a little effective when a certain person came down because of the noise. 

“Can’t a person have a simple nap? Why are you so loud?” Stephen yawned. Peter 2 and 3 stopped the tickling and also let go of him, allowing the cloak to kidnap Peter up the stairs where it dangled him before Stephen.

“I’ve got a visitor, I know that. I heard it,” Stephen spoke casually to his cloak, and Peter yelped when he was finally dropped before Stephen. Lying in a pathetic heap on the floor at Dr. Strange’s feet, Peter gasped for air and glanced up at him.

“That was what the cloak was trying to do? Take me to you?”

“Obviously. What else did you think?” Dr. Strange said, and he stepped over Peter and descended the stairs.

“So, Peter Parker, and… Peter Parker, I presume?” he said formally to the two. 

“Y-yeah!”

“That’s me.” 

“Stephen Strange. It’s nice to meet you.” 

"And what exactly is the point of this?" Yumichika asked skeptically, watching as Ikkaku removed his zanpakutō, gently setting the blade down and stretching.

"Training, obviously."

"It's not as if you ever go all out fighting with me anyway. And it's not like some hand-to-hand practice ever hurt," he said, cracking his neck. "You ready?"

He rolled his eyes. Yes, that much was obvious. "Why bother training without our zanpakutōs? If you lose it in a fight, you're as good as dead."

Sighing, Yumichika got into his stance. "I suppose. Just try not to damage my beautiful face."

Ikkaku chuckled, "No promises."

Then he rushed at Yumichika, and the battle began.

They were fairly evenly matched, expertly delivering and evading blows. While Yumichika was slightly more agile, Ikkaku made up for it with his marginally superior strength. But combined with Ikkaku's greater experience and Yumichika's half-hearted attitude, it didn't take long for one to get an upper hand.

Before Yumichika even knew what hit him, his legs were swept out from under him, and landed on his butt with a loud thunk. 

"Pfft—is that all you got? If that's it, there really is no point training with you."

A vein bulged in Yumichika's forehead, but he took a deep breath, composing himself. Stress wasn't good for his complexion, and he was not going to let Ikkaku be the reason his beautiful skin was wrinkled.

"Then again, I don't know what I expected. You are only fifth in the company. There's just too large of a gap between us for you to be a challenge."

The vein was practically bursting now. He jumped to his feet, well aware that he was playing into Ikkaku's hands and letting his childish taunts get to him, but he had too much pride to stand there and take it.

"If that's how you're going to be, then I'll show you exactly what I'm capable of," Yumichika glowered, getting back into his stance. "I just hope you don't regret it, you ugly oaf."

He grinned, confident and satisfied, "As long as you don't regret it when I bust your pretty face in."

With that, Yumichika rushed at him, dodging a punch from Ikkaku. He attempted a kick at his sides, one Ikkkau easily blocked but it didn't matter, because Yumichika diverted, landing a punch square at his jaw.

"What were you saying?" He smirked.

However easy it was to rile up Yumichika, it was even easier with Ikkaku.

"Maybe you should shut up and focus instead," he growled, charging at Yumichika. 

Both of them were too stubborn to give up; the fight wore on until they were both tired and breathless. Their movements were slowed, weighed down by a fatigue that made it almost too easy for Ikkaku to grab his leg when Yumichika kicked at him again, gripping it tightly and yanking hard enough that Yumichika landed on his back with a strange sound.

A… laugh?

"Oi. What's so funny? You like losing that much?"

Even stranger was the flush on Yumichika's face, darker than it should be from overexertion. 

It took a few moments for him to formulate a response. "Or I find your ugly face that amusing."

Ikkaku stared at him skeptically, offering a hand to help him up. "Something wrong?"

"No."

He almost chuckled. Normally, Yumichika was a better liar than this. "You sure?"

A sigh. Then, "If I tell you, then you can't… tease me about it."

There really was something odd about this whole thing. Yumichika never made requests like that. The men in the Eleventh Company always fucked around with each other; "teasing," if you could call it that, was more than commonplace. And emotions were never much of a factor, not among their meat-headed, battle-frenzied men.

Something more serious than usual, then.

"Fine," he shrugged, trying for nonchalance.

"Sensitive?"

"I'm…" the blush deepened, "a bit… sensitive there."

Yumichika wouldn't look at him, focusing on the floor instead. "You know."

"I don't."

He couldn't even imagine what would elicit this kind of reaction from his friend. Bashfulness didn't suit him.

"I'm ticklish."

Ikkaku stared at him for a long moment, trying to tell if he was serious or not. Did something as simple as that warrant all this?

"Okay."

He waited. There was no response. Just when he was about to ask if they wanted to return to their match, he noticed the anxious air around Yumichika. 

He kept staring at the floor, somehow looking almost expectant as he fidgeted with his sleeve.

Yumichika never fidgeted, or held his tongue.

An idea grew in Ikkaku's mind, but the question died in his throat. He had said that he wouldn't tease him, and Ikkaku wasn't one to break his word for no reason. Instead, with a devious plan in mind, he asked, "Ready for the next round?"

An affirmative. And, if Ikkaku wasn't mistaken, for a moment Yumichika appeared disappointed. He'd have to fix that.

Both settling into their stances, their fight began again. Only this time was different. Ikkaku had another goal in mind.

"Hehey!" He protested with a surprised giggle when Ikkaku reached out, poking his stomach instead of landing a hit.

"What?" He grinned, taking in Yumichika's own wobbly smile. "There's nothing wrong with exploiting your enemy's weakness."

"So you need to resort to dirty tricks to win."

His words were lightly scathing, but altogether forgotten when Ikkaku caught his fist, quickly jabbing at his underarm in a way that made Yumichika gasp and stumble.

"How have I never noticed this before?" He asked himself, marveling at his outlandish reactions. 

"Shuhut uhuhup!" Yumichika yanked his arm away, taking a few steps back until he was securely out of Ikkaku's reach. "What happened to training?"

"This is just another kind. Say… endurance training."

"Ikkaku," he said sharply—a warning. Then took another step back.

"Yumichika," he parroted with a teasing grin, taking his own step forward. 

Yumichika bolted. Ikkaku was hot on his heels.

He barely made it a foot before he was tackled to the ground, Ikkaku's fingers digging into his sides as he fell, grumbling out a curse in between his laughter.

Yumichika was his friend; Ikkaku had gotten to know him fairly well over the years, and he was fairly confident that despite Yumichika's protests, he didn't really mind the tickling. If anything, Ikkaku thought he liked it.

If he didn't, it would've been all too easy not to mention, and even easier for him to actually get away. Even now, he didn't bother putting up a fight.

Instead, he was practically curled up in a ball on the floor, squirming beneath Ikkaku. His hands were wrapped tightly around himself, as if he was trying to shield himself from the ticklish attack. His face was tucked into his neck, hair tousled, cheeks flushed, eyes crinkled, and lips stretched into a wide smile. 

It wasn't a bad look.

"Can't you feel yourself becoming stronger?" 

"Thihihis ihihisn't traihihing!"

"Sure it is," Ikkaku laughed, reaching down to squeeze at his knees.

He spasmed, unconsciously jerking his leg in a kick that hit Ikkaku in the stomach.

"Thahat's… mohore lihike it," he huffed, smirking.

"Now," Ikkaku growled, grabbing onto his leg like he had earlier, "it really isn't about training. I just want revenge."

"Ihihit wahahasn't my fahahulut!" He protested, shrieking when Ikkaku started pinching his thighs.

"What? You're saying it was my fault?" 

"Yehehehes?" It came out more unsure than he intended, but it was hard to think, let alone talk, when Ikkaku was jumping between his tickle spots, targeting anywhere he could reach with such a speed that Yumichika could hardly even try to escape from his torment.

"You're really asking for it now."

Begging was beneath Yumichika, but even if it wasn't, he didn't have the chance to plead for mercy before Ikkaku was digging into his stomach, making him squeal and laugh harder than he ever had in his life.

It didn't take much longer before Yumichika was a breathless, teary-eyed mess, and Ikkaku finally let him go. After his release, all he could do was fully curl up into a ball, wheezing and giggling and thinking about how awfully unbeautiful he must've looked in that moment.

Once he had mostly regained his breath, he glared at Ikkaku, who looked all too satisfied, hissing, "Not a wohord… to anyone."

"Fine with me," he shrugged, rising to his feet and once again offering a hand to help him up. "It can just be our secret."

Reluctantly, Yumichika accepted his assistance, wobbling slightly when he stood but managing to right himself. Quickly, he tried to fix his hair, realizing how awful he must look after all of… that. 

And, after an internal debate, he decided it wasn't worth asking Ikkaku if he could try using his shiny, bald head as a mirror, instead focusing on brushing the dust off of his uniform. 

"Training wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, it wasn't. But what happened afterwards was shameful."

"You can't tell someone something like that without expecting them to try it out."

Yumichika decided not to dignify that with a response. "Now can you tell what the actual point of that idiotic training session was for?"

"You know I love a good fight. Captain's never interested, and I wouldn't even bother trying with Yachiru."

"You act like there are no other capable fighters in our company."

"They're nowhere near our level," he said, walking back over to their swords to pick up his discarded zanpakutō. "Besides, you never use your real power against me."

"There isn't much of a point using it while sparring."

But that was a dangerous thought. One Yumichika quickly pushed aside, focusing on sheathing his sword instead.

Yumichika joined him, and Ikkaku handed him his sword. Their hands were so close, only a few inches apart, and Yumichika imagined reaching closer, touching their pinkies together, and slowly, painfully slowly, inching closer and closer until Ikkaku wrapped his hand—the hand that had just been touching Yumichika so intimately; the one he never wanted to leave his skin—around his, interlocking their fingers, feeling the body heat emanating from his skin and the callouses from years of fighting.

"Still, this seemed like it'd be an equal way to fight." Ikkaku continued, almost annoyingly oblivious. 

"We can do this again sometime. As long as you focus on training instead of… that."

"Don't act like you didn't like it. And, I was nice, wasn't I? I barely even teased you about how ticklish you are," he smirked. "Yet."

Bullshit, the game of bluffing. A deceptive card game where the players aim to get rid of all of their cards by bluffing. Sometimes players tell the truth; other times, they tell a lie. It's a fun game, especially when you add conditions if someone is lying, and that's just what these teens are about to play.

It was a late summer afternoon, and Diego and Jason were at Tristan's and Kain's place while their parents were out running errands. After an hour of racing games, Tristan suggested they play a card game that his father and Kain's mother is a master of, Bullshit.

"Remind me of the rules again." Jason said.

"Sure thing," Tristan said, dealing out the cards, "Everyone gets the same amount of cards to play. The play will go by card numbers. First, the aces, twos, threes, fours, and so on, and we place those cards in the center face-down. Depending on how many you have of that number, you can say something like, 'Two fours' or 'Three kings.' It only goes up to four."

"The game's object is to get rid of all your cards. If you don't have what is up next, whether it be a number or royal, you can bluff," Kain explained, "If someone thinks that I'm bluffing, they can call, 'Bullshit.' If I am bluffing, I have to take everything in the center. However, if I was telling the truth, the one who called 'BS' has to take the center cards."

Jason nodded as he listened.

"However, we're adding a little twist to this game." Tristan said.

The other three teens looked up at the blonde with confusion.

"What kind of twist?" Diego asked, scanning his cards.

"If someone calls 'BS' and is right, the person they called it on gets tickled for 15 seconds," Tristan said, "However if someone calls 'BS' and is wrong, the person who called it gets tickled for 15 seconds. Sound fun?"

Jason swallowed a lump while the other two were unfazed. The other three glanced at each other and nodded.

"Sounds good to us." Diego said.

"Alright, let's get this game started!" Tristan exclaimed, "We'll go in order by age. First will be Jason, then Kain, Diego, and me."

The burgundy-haired teen nodded as he scanned his cards.

"Two aces." Jason said, placing two cards in the middle.

"One two." Kain said.

"Three threes." Diego said.

"Two fours." Tristan said.

The game was progressing smoothly. That was until the first 'BS' was called.

"Three Jacks." Diego said.

"Bullshit." Kain said.

Diego quirked a brow before picking up the cards he placed in the middle. When he flipped them over, there were three Jacks.

"Damn it." Kain muttered.

Diego chuckled before standing up and positioning himself behind Kain.

"Ready?" Diego asked.

"Just get it over with." Kain said.

Diego smirked before digging his fingers into Kain's sides, eliciting boyish giggles from the redhead.

"Wait, wahahahahait!" Kain giggled, "Diegohohohoho! Stohohohop!"

"You have to get tickled for 15 seconds, Kain," Tristan said, "That was the rule."

"Ahahahaha shihihihit! Why did I agrehehehehehee?!"

The redhead twisted in his seat as the older teen tickled up and down his sides. A few seconds later, Diego pulled his hands away, leaving Kain panting. Jason and Tristan chuckled at the redhead's state. Kain groaned before picking up the cards in the center. When Kain controlled his breathing, the boys picked up where they left off.

"One Queen." Tristan said.

"Three Kings." Jason said.

"Bullshit." Kain said.

Jason tried to keep up the confidence, but when he flipped over the cards, it was two Kings and a Jack.

"Better luck next time, kid." Kain said, standing up.

Jason chuckled nervously when Kain stood behind him. Without warning, the redhead shoved his fingers under Jason's armpits, causing the younger teen to squeal and let out adorable giggles.

"Why there fihihihihihirst?!" Jason questioned, "That's a dihihihihick mohohohove! Nahahahahaa!"

"You weren't kidding when you said he was really ticklish here, Diego." Kain said, clawing at Jason's armpits.

"I would never lie about something like that." Diego said, grinning at his cousin.

Jason glared at his cousin and growled through his giggles. When Kain stopped, Jason groaned, chuckling slightly before putting his hands in his armpits.

"You're a dick for telling him that, primo." Jason said.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Diego asked, his face serious but his voice playful.

Jason sighed as he picked up the cards in the middle.

"Three aces." Kain said, picking up the game.

"Two twos." Diego said.

"One three." Tristan said.

"Two fours." Jason said.

For the next few minutes, the game went by smoothly without anyone calling BS.

"Four Queens." Tristan said.

"Bullshit." Kain said.

Tristan quirked a brow at the redhead before flipping over his cards. The blonde couldn't suppress the smile on his face when he revealed two Queens, a six, and an eight.

"You are a terrible liar, Katsunan." Kain said, walking behind Tristan.

Tristan snorted from his throat, anticipating what was to come. He was soon thrown into a frenzy of giggles when Kain pressed into his ribs.

"Nahahahaha! Stohohohohop!" Tristan giggled, "Aahahahahahehehehe!"

"15 seconds, remember?" Kain questioned.

Tristan bowed his head and pounded his fist against the wooden table in ticklish agony, handsome giggles slipping from his lips.

"Dahahahahammihihihihit!" Tristan cursed.

When 15 seconds were up, Kain stopped the tickling, leaving Tristan breathless.

"So, shall we continue?" Kain asked as if nothing happened.

Tristan groaned before flipping Kain off, only making the redhead smile. The blonde rolled his eyes before taking the cards from the center.

"Two Kings." Diego said.

"One ace." Jason said.

"One two." Kain said.

"Two threes." Tristan said.

The card game progressed without a hiccup, but as Diego played his hand, Jason had a sneaky suspicion his cousin was bluffing.

"Three eights." Diego said.

"Bullshit." Jason called.

Diego looked at his cousin and quirked his brow. The black-haired teen picked up his cards and flipped them over, revealing the eight of hearts, spades, and diamonds. Diego grinned as he stood up.

"Shit…" Jason muttered.

"Sorry, primo," Diego said, standing behind his cousin, "But you should know by now that I don't lie."

When he said that, the black-haired teen started digging into Jason's ribs, causing the young teen to squeal and laugh.

"DIEGOHOHOHOHOHOHO, ¡PARAAHAHAHAHAAAA!" Jason cried, "NOT THEHEHEHEHERE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"You tickled the Spanish outta him!" Tristan laughed.

"SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP! NO TEHEHEHASING!"

Kain couldn't help but chuckle. Jason tried to pull Diego's hands away, but his cousin was unfazed.

"DIEGO, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!" Jason laughed, "ENOHOHOHOUGH!"

"In 5 seconds." Diego deadpanned.

For the next 5 seconds, Diego tormented his cousin's top rib, making him snort. Diego couldn't help but laugh before stopping.

"Now that was cute." Kain commented.

Jason groaned as he flipped off the redhead, making him chuckle.

"Let's continue, shall we?" Tristan suggested.

Jason sighed and nodded as he gathered the cards in the middle.

"One nine." Jason said.

"Three tens." Kain said.

"Bullshit." Diego said.

The redhead quirked a brow at the older teen as he felt his heart skip a beat. Kain groaned as he flipped over his cards, revealing two tens and a Queen.

"Uh-huh, and I'm the terrible liar." Tristan chuckled, watching the black-haired teen stand up.

Kain cursed under his breath, feeling Diego's ominous presence looming over him. He then let out a loud laugh when Diego pressed into his armpits.

"FUHUHUHUHUCKING DAHAHAHAMMIT!" Kain laughed, "STAHAHAHAHAP! AHAAAAHAHAHAHA!"

"It hasn't even been 5 seconds," Diego said, "I'm guessing this is a bad spot?"

"WHAHAHAHAT THE HEHEHELL DO YOU THIHIHIHIHINK!?"

Tristan and Jason couldn't help but laugh along.

"Does he always curse like this when tickled?" Jason asked, turning to Tristan.

"Oh, yeah," Tristan said, "He wants to act all big and bad, but once you get his armpits, he curses like a sailor."

"TRISTAHAHAHAHAN, SHUT THE FUHUHUHUHUCK UHUHUP!" Kain laughed, "DIEGO, STAHAHAHAP! ANYWHEHEHEHERE EHEHEHELSE!"

"Geez, you're a whiny pequeña perra, aren't you?" Diego asked, "Quit your bitching and just take it."

Kain snorted as he pounded his fist against the table, unable to stop the black-haired teen. When Diego finally stopped the tickling, Kain panted and groaned as he glared at the older teen.

"You should know better than to call out Diego on a bluff, Kain." Jason chuckled.

Kain sighed as he collected the cards from the middle.

"One Jack." Diego said.

"Two Queens." Tristan said.

"Bullshit." Kain said.

Tristan glared at the redhead and growled under his breath. Tristan turned over the cards and revealed a Queen and an ace.

"Hey, Jay," Kain began, "You wanna know which spot makes Tristan curse like a sailor?"

"Totally!" Jason said eagerly.

"Kain, I swear, don't you dare." Tristan warned.

The redhead ignored the blonde and walked behind him.

"Wasn't this your rule?" Kain asked, "15 seconds start… now!"

With that, Kain started clawing at Tristan's stomach, sending the blonde into a frenzy of laughter.

"DAHAHAHAMMIHIHIHIT KAHAHAHAIN!" Tristan laughed, "YOU FUHUHUHUCKING PRIHIHIHICK! FUCK, STAHAHAHAP!"

"Wow, you weren't kidding." Jason chuckled.

"SHUHUHUT UHUHUP, JAHAHAHASON! AHAHAHAAAA! KAIN, FUHUHUHUCKING STAHAHAAAAP!"

"Don't worry; I will… in 10 seconds." Kain deadpanned with a grin.

Tristan pounded his fist against the table in ticklish agony as he doubled over laughter. He tried to suck in his stomach, but that didn't do anything.

"KAHAHAHAIN, ENOHOHOHOUGH!" Tristan cried, "SHIHIHIHIHIHIT! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

When 10 seconds were up, Kain stopped the tickling, leaving Tristan breathless. Kain said down and pushed over the small stack of cards to Tristan. Tristan glared at the redhead.

"Fuck… you…" Tristan cursed, flipping him off.

"Love you, too, cousin." Kain smiled.

Tristan rolled his eyes as he gathered the cards.

"Right," Jason said, glancing at his cards, "One King."

"Two aces." Kain said

"Three twos." Diego said.

"One three." Tristan said.

As the game went on, Tristan, Jason, and Kain were all subjected to the 15-second tickle penalty except Diego. In the end, the black-haired teen won the game.

"That was fun." Diego said.

"How are you so good at this?" Kain asked, "Did you even bluff during this game?"

The black-haired teen glanced at the redhead and smirked.

"A few times, yeah," Diego deadpanned, "You guys just never caught it."

The other teens groaned as Tristan shuffled the cards.

"So, you guys down for another round?" Tristan asked.

"Sure," Jason said, "And this time, Diego, you're gonna get tickled."

"We'll see about that, primo." Diego smirked.

"Should we add a rule that has us tickle Diego whenever?" Kain chuckled.

The black-haired teen looked at the redhead with a dangerous look, startling the redhead.

"K-Kidding, kidding!" Kain said.

"That's what I thought." Diego said.

“You always get the good parts!” Reo accused Satsuki.

“What!? No I don’t!” Satsuki refuted.

“You do! I feel like I’m always singing backup for you!”

“You—! Oh, you do?”

“I—Ugh! Just shut up!!”

“Oi! You little-aH! G-get ohohoff!”

“Not until you agree to let me sing your part! Take this! And this!”

“AAAHH!!”

The family room door slid open. “What the hell is going on in he-Oh,” Hokusai interjected.

Hokusai assessed the situation. Reo had Satsuki pinned to the tatami mat. It appeared he was holding Satsuki under a severe tickle attack.

“Just… Keep it down, will you?” Hokusai slid the door shut.

Reo paused for a moment. He looked back down at Satsuki.

“Reo, c-can we talk about this?”

“We were talking, and you weren’t listening to me!”

“I-I was-aAAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO!!”

Reo’s skilled fingers traveled up and down Satuki’s sides, paying special attention to his waist.

“Stahahahahahap!”

“I’m not gonna stop until you let me sing it~”

“Ihihihit’s my part! You can’t just-gAAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHA! REHEHEHEO PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

While Satsuki was busy batting Reo’s hands away, Reo took the chance and snugged his hands in Satsuki’s underarms. He vibrated his fingers just above his upper ribs.

“Not cracking, huh? Seems I’ll just have to—”

“WAIT WAIT WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT! DOHOHOHOHON’T DO IT!”

“Oya? Got something to say?” Reo let up a bit.

“I-I *pant* Reo, please, I—NAHAA!! Not there, please, not there!”

“Tell me what I want to hear if you don’t want your precious little ribs to get tortured~”

“Reooo!” Satsuki whined.

“Three…”

“Reo, please!”

“Two…”

“I’ll do anything!”

“Two and a half…”

“W-well, maybe not any-AAIIIEEE!!!”

“One.”

“BAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NononONONONOHOHO NOT THERE NOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!! IHIHIHI’M GONNA DIHIHIHIHIE!!!”

Reo’s thumbs were firmly planted in between Satsuki’s bottom two ribs. He knew Satsuki wouldn’t be able to handle this much longer.

Satsuki pounded the floor with his fist, his other hand meekly holding on to one of Reo’s.

“AHAHAHANYTHING BUT- *hic* BUT THIHIHIS! I’LL- *hic* I’LL-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!”

“You poor thing.”

“EHEHE *snort* Y-YOHOHOHOHOU- *hic* FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!”

“Ooh, does it tickle? Does it tickle real bad? Coochie coo~”

Tears pricked the corners of Satsuki’s eyes. Reo was relentless!

“Alright, ALRIGHT!” Iori shouted, now standing in the doorframe. “Cut it out, you two!”

Upon seeing the situation, Iori sighed. He placed his forehead in his palm. “What on earth did you get yourself into this time, Satsuki?”

“MAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“He won’t let me sing!”

Iori’s hand slid down his face and onto his chin. “Huh?”

“He always gets to sing the good parts of our songs, and he won’t give me his!”

Satsuki’s laughter went silent.

“Let him breathe, Reo.”

Reo stopped for a few seconds, letting Satsuki gasp for air. Once the pink-haired boy felt that the red-haired was breathing well enough, he went right back to his ribs.

“YAHAHAHAAA NOOAAAHAHAHAHAHA! REHEHEHEO!!”

“Suffer!”

“REO WAHAHAHAAIT!!”

“Nope!”

“WE CAN SING IT TOGETHER!!!”

“...What?” Reo stopped.

Satsuki coughed, struggling to speak. “W-we can, we can sing it together.”

Reo looked over at Iori.

“Well, Reo?”

Then back at Satsuki.

“It’s a deal!” Reo smiled cheerily.