#bsd tickle

The sound of light rain hitting the windows filled the comfortable silence of the apartment. Dazai was sprawled on the sofa, flipping through an old magazine that clearly didn't interest him. His distracted gaze occasionally strayed to Oda, who was talking on his cell phone in the kitchen, his tone calm but firm.

"If they don't want to eat the vegetables, tell them they'll have to deal with Port Mafia-style torture."

A brief pause was followed by a soft sigh.

"No, it's nothing serious. Just say that, trust me."

Dazai immediately raised an eyebrow curiously, leaning forward to peer around the door frame. "Oda, did you just threaten innocent children with... Port Mafia torture?" He asked with a mischievous smile. "Have you been feeling nostalgic, or is this just a new pedagogical tactic?"

Oda calmly hung up his cell phone, returning to the living room with his hands in his pockets. "It was just the nanny. The kids were fussing about dinner"

"And you thought it was a good idea to evoke the psychological terror of your time in the Mafia?" Dazai laughed, tossing the magazine aside. "So? What secret method is this? I'm curious now"

Oda crossed his arms, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Oh, please, I worked with you for years in the Mafia, nothing surprises me anymore" Dazai said, closing his eyes and spreading his arms in a theatrical surrender, as if ready to receive a fatal attack. "Do your worst, is this something that will kill me, by any chance?" He smiled at the possibility.

That was his cue. In a second, Oda approached with steps too calm and silent for Dazai to notice and then, with surprising precision, dug his fingers into the sides of his waist.

"Hey! What are you—ahhhahahaha, Oda!" He nearly jumped off the couch, trying to push away Oda's nimble hands, which were now attacking him with meticulously calculated tickles, first on his waist, then sliding down his ribs. "Is this the dreaded torture method?" He managed between laughs.

"It's working, isn't it?" Oda said with the most absurd calm in the world, even as he continued the attack, now aiming for his armpits, just to see the reaction intensify.

"Hahahahahaha! Stop, stahahahahahahap! That's not fair! Hahahahahaha! You're too serious to use that kind of tactic!"

"That's exactly why it works" Oda retorted, finally stopping and leaving Dazai slumped on the couch, his face flushed, panting, and his eyes watering from laughter.

For a moment, they were silent, but Dazai, catching his breath, turned to face him with an amused smile. "You're a very well-disguised demon, you know that?"

Oda settled in beside him. "And you should think twice before asking to 'see for yourself' next time" He smiled.

"Okay, fair enough, but I think I deserve some kind of compensation for this attack on my physical and moral integrity" Dazai said dramatically, lying down on the sofa.

Oda stared at him with his head slightly tilted. "Would you like me to cook something?"

"Hmm... no. My life energy was drained by cruel fingers, so I need something more therapeutic" He said, then stretched his feet out toward him with the most begging and dramatic expression possible. "A foot massage, please"

Oda arched an eyebrow. "You sound like I've beaten you"

"Almost, you attacked my soul"

Letting out a sigh with a hint of amusement, Oda took one of his feet and began to press gently, his thumbs moving along the entire length of the sole. For a few moments, everything went smoothly, until a small shiver ran through Dazai's body.

"Nnh!" He exclaimed.

Oda stopped, watching, and did it again, tracing his thumb lightly over the arch of his foot. Dazai immediately flinched and stifled a giggle.

"You're kidding" He said, and for the first time that day, he smiled with a little more than just the corner of his mouth. "Your feet are ticklish too?"

"N-No! I just... it's a very delicate area, you know? Full of nerve endings..." Dazai tried to argue, slowly pulling his foot away.

But Oda held firm. "Interesting. Very interesting."

"Don't you dare..."

But it was too late. As calm as ever, Oda slid his fingers across the sole of Dazai's foot with cruel precision.

The effect was instantaneous, he choked on laughter, kicked the air, and grabbed a cushion as a shield. "S-Stohohohohohop! Hahahahahaha! This is a double betrayal!"

"I'm just exploring alternative relaxation therapy methods" Oda countered, impassive, alternating between light touches on the arch and toes, where Dazai's most vulnerable points seemed to be, judging by the half-laughing cries and desperate moans escaping him.

"S-Stahahahahahahap! I don't trust you anymore! Hahahahahahaha!" He shook himself, trying to free his leg.

"Wise decision" Oda replied with a slight smile, continuing for just a few more seconds, long enough to see Dazai squirm and almost slip off the couch like a fish out of water.

Finally, he stopped, gently releasing his foot. Dazai lay there, panting, his hair disheveled, staring at the ceiling as if he'd been through a battle.

"You're ridiculously calm for someone who just committed crimes against another citizen's human rights" He murmured.

Oda just watched him with that calm, almost tender gaze. "I told you it was an effective method. The children behave much better after that"

"I'll behave too, if it means you'll never come near my feet again"

"Well, you were the one who offered them to me" Oda smiled mischievously, making him recoil in fear of another attack. "No promises"

Dazai muttered something inaudible, but still, he reached out his arm, pulling him closer. "Okay, but if you're going to torture me like this, then stay here until I fall asleep"

There was something wrong. The weretiger usually wore his emotions like a badly-fitted coat—always tripping over guilt, shame, self-loathing, and still managing to offer some sorry excuse of a smile through it all.

But not tonight.

Tonight he was quiet. Too quiet. There was no half smile, he was just, Still. And Akutagawa didn't  like it.

Akutagawa closed his book. Loudly. No response.

“…You’re acting strange,” he said flatly.

Atsushi blinked, slowly turning his head. His eyes looked a little glassy.

“I’m just tired,” he muttered. Even he didn't believe his own lie.

“Tch. You said that already.”

“Well… maybe I still am.”

That wasn’t it. Akutagawa knew it wasn’t.

There was a scrape of chair legs across wood as he stood up, deliberate in every step as he crossed the room.

Atsushi didn’t even react when Akutagawa crouched in front of him.

He just looked… small.

And Akutagawa hated it.

“You’re sulking.”

“I’m not sulking.”

Akutagawa narrowed his eyes. “You’re brooding. You have that pathetic furrow between your brows again.”

Atsushi’s lips twitched, but the ghost of a smile never fully formed. “Maybe I just messed up today. Again. Maybe it’s my fault those civilians got hurt. Maybe—”

poke.

Atsushi was startled. His whole body jumped.

Akutagawa’s finger lingered just at his side. He looked positively smug.

“…What was that?” Atsushi squeaked.

“You flinched,” Akutagawa replied simply. “And you made one of those squeaky noises again.”

“That’s not—Akutagawa, don’t—”

Another poke. This time higher. More deliberate.

“D-don’t! I’m being serious—!”

“So am I,” Akutagawa said, voice soft but unrelenting as he reached again. Atsushi moved to avoid his fingers but Akutagawa knew his moves all too well. Whichever way Atsushi moved to avoid his fingers Akutagawa would go to the opposite side, faking him out only to attack anyway. 

Akutagawa’s fingers struck again—this time not a single jab, but a series of quick, feather-light prods beneath Atsushi’s ribs.

“GYAH—A-Akuta—! H-hehey! STAHAHAHAP!”

Atsushi curled forward instinctively, arms folding tightly around his torso as he twisted on the bed, trying to scoot away. But Akutagawa followed, calm as ever, movements precise as a scalpel.

“I don’t understand.” His tone was maddeningly flat. “If you’re tired, why are you squirmingso much?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE TIHIHIHICKLING ME!”

“Hm.” Another thoughtful prod, this time targeting the edge of Atsushi’s waist. “Are you going to admit it?”

“Th-That’s not—” poke poke poke “WAHAHAIT—OKAY! Ohohokay! I AHAHA-ADMIT IT!”

Akutagawa actually smiled, just barely—so faint it could be missed if you weren’t looking directly at him. “Good. Then this is effective.”

He sat beside Atsushi now, his fingers slipping beneath the loose hem of the other’s shirt with no hesitation, pressing into the dips between ribs with exacting care. Atsushi howled.

“NOHOHO FAHAHAIR—Th-That’s—AHAHAHA—I c-can’t—!”

“You said you didn’t want to talk. So I found a better method.”

“THIS IS NOT A METHOD!”

“You’re smiling.”

Atsushi gasped through his giggles, his hands flailing and useless, trying to push Akutagawa off—but the black-clad Port Mafia member had that terrifyingly calm energy about him. Focused. Composed. Like this was all part of some clinical experiment.

“Your reflexes are slow. You're easy to provoke,” Akutagawa observed as if he were reading a case file. “Your underarms are especially reactive.”

“D-Don’t you DARE—!!”

Too late.

Akutagawa struck again, fingers skimming deliberately up Atsushi’s sides, thumbs pressing into the vulnerable hollows just beneath his arms. The shriek that ripped out of Atsushi’s throat could’ve shaken the roof.

“AKUTAGAWAAAAA—!!”

The name burst from Atsushi’s lips in a squealing, desperate cackle as he twisted hard to the side, nearly rolling off the bed.

Akutagawa caught him by the shoulder without a word, steadying him easily. His grip wasn’t rough—but it was firm. Intentional. Like he’d never let him fall.

Not even from something as stupid as laughter.

“Stop moving,” he muttered.

“S-s-stop tickling me!” Atsushi cried, breathless, red-faced, and trembling. His chest rose and fell rapidly as giggles still clung to the edges of his voice. “Y-you’re such a—a jerk—!”

His comments didn't seem to phase Akutagawa but while he continued to wreck the weretiger a thought came to him. “I do happen to remember Dazai mentioning something to me in passing.” His hands slowed while he hovered them over the younger boy. Atsushi's giggles weren't as loud or forced just reminance of what just occurred, he looked up at Akutagawa unaware of what he was about to do. The black robed portmafia member lowered his hands shifting the weretigers shirt up just the tiniest bit revealing his belly button and Atsushi’s eyes went wide. 

“NO NONONO DONT! HE WAS LYING!” Akutagawa’s face was still as stoic as it always was as he let out a huff.

“Heh, for someone calling Dazai-san a liar you sure seem awfully defensive.” Atsushi grabbed his shirt immediately pulling it down causing the other to scoff. “Are you really going to make me have to use Rashouman?” And the weretiger who had just thought things couldn't get any worse. He tried to bolt.

“Rashouman!” Before Atsushi even made it off the bed he was pulled back and his arms moved above his head, although held by Rashouman the hold was uncharacteristically gentle. Akutagwa moved Atsushi’s shirt back up just a bit higher than his belly button this time. “Now Dazai said this spot was only to be used if extremely necessary, and I think wiping that annoying mopey look off your face entitles this to be completely necessary.”

With that Akutagawa held out a single finger and lowered it towards his button and Atsushi freaked out.

“NONONO OKOKOK I'M DONE MOPING I WONT BROOD ANYMORE!!!”

“You surely won't after this” his finger delves into Atsushi’s belly button and a scream bursts out of the weretigers mouth of that of someone being murdered. 

“AKUTAGAWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO” Akutagawa remained stoic as ever while he wrecked Atsushi into a new dimension. His finger swirled in his bellybutton not so much digging but just enough to tickle like hell. The things Dazai had let Akutagawa in on seemed to have a major effect on Atsushi so why not try something else he thought to himself. Inadmitably Akutagawa lowered his head towards Atsushi’s tummy and this only caused his squirming to worsen ten fold. 

“NONONONO DONT YOU DAHAHAHRE”

“Oh I dare Weretiger, and I shall.” He says this with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and once lowered he blows. Blows a long hard raspberry on Atsushi’s belly button and he shrieks, the noise so high pitched it almost startles Akuatagawa. He almost stops but wiping that dumb sad look off his partner's face is what his main goal was right now. 

“AIEEEEEEEEEHHEHEHEHEHEHE CRAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP AKUTAGAWA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO” his body thrashes and Rashouman holds firm, to keep his waist in place in holds Atsushi’s hips down with his hands and just to be a little more sadistic he rolls his thumbs into his hip dips. Atsushi’s body fights for a moment longer before collapsing allowing himself to laugh. Allowing himself to forget about what happened tonight. Besides being tickled to the brink by the rabid dog of the mafia, it feels good to be able to let go despite laughing til he can't breathe.

Only when Akutagawa sees tears and how red his face truly is and how his breathing has changed does he stop, he finally lets his hands fall away and sits up bringing his mouth away from the weretiger’s tummy as well as releasing Rashouman’s hold. His expression didn’t change much—but there was something calmer about it. Less tense.

“…You were upset,” he said simply.

Atsushi blinked, thrown off by the shift in tone. “Huh?”

“You were brooding. Again. That look on your face…” Akutagawa paused, then frowned. “It’s worse than your whining.”

“I wasn’t—” Atsushi hesitated. His arms dropped from their defensive curl, and he exhaled. “…Okay. Maybe I was a little off.”

Akutagawa didn't reply. His gaze flicked down—toward Atsushi’s hands, still faintly trembling from the aftershock of laughter—and then away again, jaw tightening.

"I like you more when you're laughing," he muttered.

The silence stretched between them.

Atsushi slowly blinked, shocked by the words coming out of Akutagawa’s mouth, his cheeks flushing. 

"Don't make me say it again."

A laugh—this one real, worn around the edges but warm—escaped Atsushi before he could stop it. It was softer now. No hysteria, no forced grin. Just… genuine.

He rubbed the back of his neck, still pink. “I- um. Thanks for uh… for cheering me up.”

“You’re welcome Weretiger” Atsushi moved hesitantly but made his way beside him laying just close enough.

“If I see that look on your face again while we're on this mission I won't hesitate to do it again Weretiger” Akutagawa says flatly.

Atsushi doesn't say anything but cuddles up to him regardless, causing Akutagawa to stiffen for a moment before relaxing. “Pathetic” he says dryly but wraps his arms around Atsushi anyway.

There's a silence for a beat, and Atsushi leans up pecking a kiss on Akutagwa’s cheek, and immediately the paler of the two goes red.

“…Thanks Ryu.” Atsushi says again, cuddling into his partner, and before long Atsushi was actually able to sleep in the comforting embrace of his partner's arms.

Akutagawa looked down at the sleeping weretiger in his arms. His face remained stoic at first but the corner of his mouth twitched. Just once.

“You smiled,” he said quietly.

He held him for the rest of the night til he fell asleep alongside him.