#kitkatwrites

///

It was interesting how humans could be bored in any circumstance.

It's not like there wasn't plenty to do on the Hail Mary. Research was constant and - astrophage and taumoeba aside - even just hanging out with Rocky was enough to keep things interesting. First alien contact, and all.

And yet, you were bored. Not just kind-of-bored where you could maybe occupy your mind with something or other, but the painful bone-deep kind of boredom where - no matter how much you wanted to - you could not get yourself to even move.

Briefly, you thought of the full access database of…well, everything, that you and Ryland were given with your laptops. But even a Wikipedia deep dive didn't sound engaging.

Rocky rolled over to where you were sprawled on the floor, feet propped up against the bed.

"Why not working, question?" He asked, no preamble. You heaved a sigh.

"Don't want to." You said blankly.

"Something wrong, question?"

"No." You said. "I'm just bored."

"What 🎶 mean, question?"

It hadn't occured to you that Rocky didn't know the word 'bored'. You thought for a moment.

"It's a feeling you get," you explained, staring up at the ceiling. "When you really want to do something, but nothing seems interesting enough to do it."

Rocky was silent for an extended few seconds.

"That sound stupid." He said.

You turned your head against the floor to look at him. "Do Eridians not get bored?"

"No." He managed to sound judgemental, somehow. "Everything interesting, always. Many things to do and learn, always."

"Huh." You mused, turning your head back towards the ceiling. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"How stop 🎶 feeling, question?" Rocky asked. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, thinking.

"I guess the best way is to force yourself to do something." You admitted, knowing Rocky would find this whole concept ridiculous. "It's easier when you can do it with someone else."

An idea sparked in your mind.

"Hey, Rocky." You said, lifting yourself up onto one elbow, turning to him. "Do you know what a 'prank' is?"

"No."

"How about 'joke'?"

He perked up. "Yes, Rocky know joke. Grace say joke is to make others laugh."

"Yes!" You said, smiling. "So a prank is similar. It's when someone tricks another person to make a joke. But it has to be harmless. If it hurts the other person then it's just mean."

"Trick not lie, question?"

"Sort of." You agreed. "But it's about something small. And the other person finds out about it in the end, so they can laugh about it too."

"Understand."

You grinned. "Want me to show you how a prank works?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Show Rocky human prank!" He wiggled happily.

"Okay, but you have to promise to not say anything about this to Grace." You told him firmly. "If he knows we're doing it, it won't work."

"Yes, yes, yes, promise, promise, promise!"

You pressed your fist against his dome. Rocky mirrored you.

@

You glanced to your right from your perch on the stool. Ryland was busy scribbling on the whiteboard he had moved into the lab room.

You looked down. Rocky was a few paces away from Ryland, soldering something or other.

It was a good time to strike. A few hours had passed since the three of you settled into your work, and the silence had stretched and streched until it became taught with stress and tiredness. But for some reason your heart rate picked up.

You fiddled with your laptop for a moment, trying to gather your will.

Ryland huffed sharply, and wiped half of the board clean. You watched as he restarted his calculations.

Well, no time like the present.

"So you know how the earth is flat?" You asked, trying to keep your voice light and casual. The marker stopped squeaking against the board.

"Excuse me?" Ryland frowned, looking over his shoulder at you.

You kept your eyes glued to the laptop. No going back now.

"I was just thinking." You continued, clicking to another tab. "Do the windmills act as propellers?"

"What are you talking about?" Ryland sounded like he didn't know if he should be concerned or confused. He set the marker down with a click, turning to face you fully.

"You know!" You waved your hand vaguely. "They're propellers so they're bringing us closer to the sun? I figure that's where global warming comes from."

There was a long pause.

You fought not to look at him. If you did you'd start laughing and give the whole plan away.

"The earth isn't-" Ryland started, then cut himself off. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah?" You feigned confusion, risking a quick glance at him. He looked comical - eyes huge, brows pinched together, hands hanging limply by his sides. "Anyway, what do you think? It's a good theory."

"That is not a good theory." Ryland said, incredulous. "It's not even a theory - it's madness!"

"Why?" You clicked through more tabs, then lifted your hands to make quotation marks gestures with your fingers. "Because 'the earth isn't flat'?"

"The earth isn't flat!" He sounded distressed. "It's round! It's an orb!"

"Oh yeah? And how do you know?"

"We're literally in space!"

"Sure." You allowed. "But I didn't get to see earth. So, who's to say?"

Ryland narrowed his eyes and looked down at your feet where you were bouncing your heel nervously against the leg of the stool.

"How Grace know earth round, question?" Rocky piped up from his spot.

"Huh?"

"Grace say always test yourself. If Grace not test, how Grace know earth round, question?"

Thank god for Rocky, you thought in relief.

"Alright." Ryland placed his hands on his hips. "What's going on with you two?"

Before you could reply, Rocky spoke. "Nothing, lie."

You closed your eyes in silent anguish. It hadn't even occurred to you that Rocky wouldn't be able to lie out loud because of his syntax.

"Oh, 'nothing', huh?" Ryland demanded, looking back and forth between you and the Eridian. "'Lie', huh?"

"Grace, listen-" You started, turning on your stool to face him. Seeing his expression - shocked, offended, miffed - a snort burst out of you. You pulled your lips into your teeth to stop yourself from grinning.

"So the two of you just thought it would be funny to spew lies and conspiracy theories?" Ryland continued, aiming the question at both you and Rocky although his eyes were locked on you.

"Rocky was curious about how pranks work." You shrugged, still fighting back a smile.

"Oh yeah? And who told him about them, I wonder."

You rolled your eyes. "God, you sound like such a teacher right now."

"We're supposed to teach him correct concepts." Ryland said. "Not about underground lizard people."

"I never said anything about lizard people!" You objected. "Come on, Grace, we just wanted a laugh."

He looked at you silently for a moment.

"Okay." He said, folding his arms. "C'mere then."

You faltered. "I feel like I shouldn't."

Ryland didn't speak. Only waved his fingers in a beckoning motion and pointed at the floor in front of him.

Shit, you thought concisely.

Slowly, reluctantly, you slid off your stool and walked towards him.

"Hmm." Ryland hummed, scanning you up and down.

"What?" You demanded, flapping your arms out.

"If you wanted to have a laugh," he said, voice lilting. "There's a much faster way to get it."

Your heart skipped. Double shit. "Grace. That wasn't my inten-"

"Your intention?" He raised his eyebrows teasingly. "As if you don't know how to get exactly what you want out of me."

"I'm not having this conversation." You said with finality. "I'm leaving now."

Ryland's arm wrapped securely around your middle, pulling you backwards into his chest, as soon as you turned to walk away.

"Grace - wait -" You stuttered "-this isn't fair - ack!"

"What isn't fair?" Ryland asked calmly, squeezing at your waist. His other hand came up to scribble on the back of your neck, where you had dropped your head forward to hide your reaction from him.

"What about Rohocky?!" You hated how your voice pitched up into a whine.

"Rocky is innocent." Ryland said. "He was coerced into this scheme by your evil little mind."

"Yohou're the evil one!" You kicked your leg out, hoping to create enough momentum to break free.

"How so?" He asked, pulling you back to him as if it were an afterthought. His hand veered to scratch around your ear.

"You know how!" You accused, reaching up to pull Ryland's hand away from your ear by the wrist.

"The same way I know that earth is round?" Ryland teased, letting you pull his hand away. "Who's to say?"

With that, he pulled against your grip on his wrist, and took hold of your jaw.

"Grace, I swear to god, I will-" You intensified your pulling and kicking.

"You're not gonna do anything." He said easily, and blew a raspberry on your neck.

You laughed desperately, legs nearly giving out under you. Ryland broke off from the raspberry, cutting it short by his own chuckling at your reaction.

"Oh man." He said through his laugh. "That was adorable."

"No it wasn't." You gritted out, jerking your head out of Ryland's grip. He let you, instead using that arm to wrap it around your middle along with the other.

"No?" He pressed his cheek to your hair. "You're right, it wasn't just adorable. It was also very cute."

You growled, feeling your face flush. You angled your head further away from him to hide it.

"You're sweet, and silly." Ryland continued, squeezing both hands against your waist gently. Just enough to get you giggling. "And you had to come up with this elaborate plan when you could have just come and asked me to tickle you."

Through the haze, you thought: I'm going to die here.

"That wasn't the plan." Your objected, but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

Ryland hummed in faux sympathy. It made your stomach do a flip.

"Let me goho." You whined. You actually whined. The realisation made you flush hotter.

"Awh." Ryland clicked his teeth. "Hard to get away when you're giggling so hard, huh?"

"Whahat do you want from me?" You were not above begging at this point.

"There is one thing." He mused, shifting one hand higher to your ribs. "But I'm not sure if you'll be able to do it."

"I'll doho it!"

"Will you behave?"

"Yehes!" You nodded your head. Pretended not to hear his wheezy laugh at how quickly you complied.

"Will you stop telling Rocky conspiracy theories?"

"Thahat's more than one thihing!"

Ryland increased the speed of his hands. "Will you?"

"Yesyesyes!" You yelped, pulling at his arms.

"Alright." He chuckled lightly, stopping his ticklish attack on you, but held firm as you tried to catch your breath. "Good."

You let your head drop back against Ryland's shoulder, your chest heaving. He rubbed his cheek on the side of your head softly, letting you get your bearings.

"Rocky have question, statement."

You jolted, shocked by his voice. You had forgotten he was even there.

"Yeah, bud?" Ryland asked, maneouvering both your bodies slightly so he could look at him.

"What mean lizard people, question?"

"Oh noooo…" You groaned, flopping your head forward.

"This is your doing, squirmy." Ryland informed you.

"I plead the fifth."

"I guess I did make you promise not to tell him about conspiracy theories." He mused, releasing his hold on you, but keeping both palms pressed to your shoulders. "I'll handle this one."

"I'm just gonna -" You made the mistake of looking at Ryland's face. His expression told you he knew exactly what you were going to say. "- I'll be back."

///

Ryland had that look in his eyes.

You've started calling it The Hopeful Fear, on account of how it made his ears pink and his shoulders tense.

You glanced at him sideways from your spot by the taumoeba samples.

He was hunched over the microscope, seemingly focused on the slide, but his hand had a slight tremor to it. You've seen it enough times to not be worried. It wasn't anxiety, but excitement.

As if sensing you looking, Ryland lifted his head away from the miscroscope by a fraction. The look he gave you was quick, and very telling.

Well, you supposed, you could help with that.

You pushed away from your samples and walked over to where Ryland was sitting. Casual, relaxed, hands in your pockets. You stopped at his shoulder, just slightly behind him, and leaned in a little.

"How's it going?" You asked, keeping your voice light and unassuming.

"Well," Ryland said, fiddling with the slide under the microscope nervously. "It hates nitrogen. But we already knew that."

"Nothing new, then?" You leaned in a little closer, still. Ryland shot you a quick look at the proximity.

"No. I'm afraid not." He sighed, hand drifting to fiddle with a stray pen on the lab table.

"Hm." You hummed idly.

Ryland kept still, not leaning away, but not coming closer either.

With a swift movement, you connected your mouth to the side of his neck and blew a quick, sharp raspberry against his skin.

The yelp that left him - loud and undignified - had you grinning.

He tumbled off his stool, to his feet, tripping in his hurry to get away from you. He turned to look at you, hand braced against the table, the other raised halfway up in front of him. Just in case you meant to follow him.

You straightened, and stayed put.

"Why-" He stuttered. His ears were getting pink.

"Hm?" You raised your eyebrows, feinging ignorance.

"Wh-" His eyes flickered back and forth between your face and your hands, which were still in your pockets. "What was that for?"

You shrugged. "You looked like you needed it."

Ryland's ears turned redder.

He was just starting to stutter out denials and accusations - something like: "you couldn't possibly know such a thing", and: "what does that even mean, that makes no sense!" - when your taumoeba samples chirped from their analysis machine. You turned your head to look at the blinking yellow light. You turned back to Ryland. He had stood up straight, but still had The Hopeful Fear flittering about his face.

"Duty calls." You said simply, turning on your heel to get to your samples.

You snapped a pair of gloves on, and got to work, carefully extracting the taumoeba samples from the machine. After a moment, you heard Ryland shuffle back to his seat.

You pretended not to notice him watching you.

@

Ryland and Rocky were bickering.

Ryland stood in front of Rocky's tunnel, the one that led through the corridor and was at about Ryland's head-height. He had his hands planted firmly on his hips, assuming his full Teacher Persona.

"Rocky, I just don't think it's a good idea." He said.

"Is good idea." Rocky replied, simply.

"Rock, buddy-"

"Grace stupid, statement."

"Hey!" Ryland's voice shifted into Scolding A Middle Schooler tone. "You can't call someone stupid just because they have a different opinion than you."

"Why, question?"

"Because it's rude."

"But is true. Grace stupid."

"I should put you in time out." Ryland threatened.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

You curled your fist in front of your mouth to cover up your laughter. You must not have been very successful, because Ryland whirled onto you with a pointed finger.

"Don't make me put you in time out, too." He said firmly. "Don't encourage him."

"You need to lighten up." You said, crossing your arms and leaning against the edge of the doorway.

"I'll 'lighten up' when he-" Ryland pointed upwards at Rocky "- comes to his senses."

"No, no, no Rocky senses, all correct," Rocky immediately argued, shaking his body in emphasis. "Grace senses stupid, leaky space blob no understand, stupid, stupid, stupid."

"I'm done here." Ryland threw his hands up and made his way to the doorway. "I'm not dealing with this."

You wrapped your arm around the front of his middle as he walked past you. He stopped, even though he could have easily kept on walking, and looked at you. He was frustrated, you could see that, but underneath that frustration was something more fragile.

"You need to lighten up." You repeated, maintaining eye contact.

He huffed. "That's not really helpf-UL-AGH!"

He folded in half, grunting, hands wrapping around your forearms. You kept squeezing at his wasit.

"I'll let you go if you laugh." You said, taking a step closer to get better leverage.

"Hhmmgh." Ryland responded, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Yes, yes, yes, make Grace laugh, statement." Rocky chimed in from his perch. "Make less stupid, statement."

"Hear that?" You turned to Ryland. "It'll do you good."

"No, it - hrrgh - won't!" He choked out, twitching against your hands, but making no other moves to escape.

"Come on!" You drawled, shifting your hands up to his ribs. "Laughter is the best medicine."

"That's pseudosciehehence!" Ryland gave in to giggling, high and hiccup-y.

"Actually," You said, digging further up under Ryland's arms to get at his underarms. "It's been proven that laughter helps relieve stress and boost immunity."

Ryland ducked his head close to his chest and let out a desparate whine.

You smirked. "But you already knew that."

"Okay, okahay!" Ryland's hands tighened on your arms, pinning them to your sides, effectively stopping your attack.

You watched him try to compose himself, smiling. He took a few deep breaths, and when he lifted his head, it wasn't with a glare, but another look of The Hopeful Fear.

You grinned knowingly.

"Quiet." He mumbled, pink all over, and released you. You turned to look at him over your shoulder as he stalked further through the Hail Mary.

@

You were in the pilot's seat, checking your trajectory, when you heard him.

"What the fudging - fudger -!"

You frowned, and whipped your head around to look behind you. Of course, you wouldn't have been able to see him, but you narrowed your eyes anyway, listening in closely.

There was a dull thump. Then another.

"What the heck is wrong with this - piece of - poop - !"

Okay.

If Ryland was PG-swearing at this intensity, something was not right.

You swivelled the pilot chair and climbed out. It took a few moments to locate him, given that he had suddenly fallen deathly silent, and no more thumping emerged from the depths of the ship. In the end, you found him in the lab.

There were two packs scattered near his feet, and Ryland himself was standing by an open hatch in the wall, his back to you. He was straining, reaching up as high as he could. He was even standing on tiptoes.

You paused. He hadn't noticed you.

"You okay over there?"

He startled, arms shooting down, torso twisting around to look behind him. Once he realised it was you, he let out a soft breath.

"There's extra test tubes in there." He explained, pointing up to the hatch. "I can't reach it."

You stepped fully into the room, a few paces away from where he stood. "You're, like, six feet tall." You observed. "How can you not reach something?"

"Oh, ha-ha." He made a face at you, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You waved your hand at him. "Don't let me interrupt."

He scoffed, but turned back to the hatch, reaching his arms up as far as they could go. The hem of his tshirt rose with the movement, exposing a sliver of skin on his abdomen. You looked at it, then glanced up at his face to confirm his focus on the task at hand.

Silently as possible, you side-stepped until you were behind Ryland, and wrapped your arms securely around his waist.

"Oh? What's going on-HEY!"

You scribbled your nails over the exposed skin of his navel. His arms shot down immediately in an attempt to shield himself. High pitched, wheezy laughter shook his body.

"Why do you dohoho thihis?" He complained, fingers scrabbling at your hands. His back pressed into your face slightly as he bent forward. You rested your cheek fully against his shoulder blade, feeling the warmth of his skin through his tshirt.

"Well, I like to do it." You shrugged a little. "I enjoy it."

Ryland twisted sharply, successfully disentangling himself from your embrace. You stumbled a little at his sudden movement.

Ryland had pressed his back tightly against the wall.

"Not a step closer." He ordered around a lingering smile and the ghost of a giggle.

You grinned, but stayed put at his request, even though the distance between you was that of only a few steps.

The Hopeful Fear was back in his eyes.

"I'm not sure you mean that." You said and, yeah, maybe you added a bit of a teasing lilt to your voice. It was worth it for the blush that rose in Ryland's face.

"Your days are numbered." He declared, raising his finger in warning.

You watched him with a grin as he shuffled sideways, back still pressed to the wall, watching you carefully, until he was far enough away to bolt.

@

It had been a hard day that had you and Ryland nearly spiralling into a full blown fight. Stress, close proximity, the weight of responsibility, being stuck in space. Sometimes the two of you got emotional.

Thankfully, you had figured out a protocol for days like these.

So, after wrapping up work as soon as voices became raised, the two of you settled into the routine.

Step one, go to the opposite ends of the ship to cool off.

Step two, talk it out.

Step three, food.

Step four, sleep.

Here you were, yours and Ryland's mattresses shoved together on the floor to make more space, tangled in every spare blanket, bodies close. Your feet tangled together loosely. You lay on your side, arm draped over Ryland's stomach. He was stretched out on his back, hand curled loosely around your knee where he had pulled your leg up over his. His breathing was deep and even.

You couldn't sleep.

Ryland's fingers curled lightly against the underside of your knee, tracing a delicate line over the skin there. Suddenly, you regretted wearing shorts to bed.

You stayed still, giving no indication that you felt his movement. Or that you were awake.

After a moment, the movement repeated.

You opened your eyes to look at him. His face was turned slightly towards you, eyes closed, expression relaxed. You closed your eyes again, burying your face deeper against your pillow.

Ryland was always a little twitchy, and that didn't stop when he was asleep. You had gotten used to his movements during sleep. For the most part. This was new.

Tap.

You frowned.

Tap, tap.

Was he tapping his finger into the curve of your knee?

Carefully - in case he really was asleep - you tilted your head back to look at him again.

His eyes were still closed, but now there was a smirk on his face.

"You-!" Your accusation got cut short, because the moment you spoke, Ryland was rolling himself on top of you, face burying into your neck to blow a long, drawn-out raspberry.

You would never admit to the sound you made at the sensation.

Ryland pulled back to look at you. "Vengeance."

"Oh, come on." You complained. "You needed that tickling and you know it."

"Did I?" He challenged, fingers resuming their tracing under your knee. Instinctively, you bent your leg, trapping his fingers. You didn't like the look on his face.

"Don't you know that when you seek revenge, you're only really hurting yourself?" You tried to reason. Ryland pursed his lips in mock sympathy.

He pulled his fingers from where they were trapped by your leg, and brought his hand up to your face. He took your jaw into his hand with a firm grip, maneouvering your head so that more of your neck was exposed.

He started leaning down.

"No, no, no- wait- Ryland-" Your pleading fell on deaf ears. You felt his stubble first, then cool air as he inhaled deeply. You grabbed hold of his wrist, your other hand gripping at the back of his hair.

He blew another long raspberry into your neck.

You scream-laughed. You were human enough to admit it.

But then he didn't pull back. Only started inhaling again. You closed your eyes, already feeling phantom tickling, laughter bubbling out of you.

This time, he blew three short raspberries one right after another.

Your legs kicked out against the mattress, one kicking him in the shin. You let go of his hair in favour of slapping your palm against his back repeatedly.

Ryland backed off only a fraction, still close enough that you felt his stubble. The breath of his laughter against your neck tickled nearly as bad. He released his grip on your jaw, instead using that hand to gently scratch behind your ear comfortingly.

You panted, dazed, staring up at the ceiling in the low light.

With one last, split-second of a raspberry that had you squawking, Ryland rolled off you.

"Remember this next time you hunt me down with tickling." He said.

"Next time," you informed him. "I'm making you admit you wanted me to do it."

You both turned your heads against your pillows, challenging each other with a look.

In the end, it was Ryland who caved, scoffing to cover up his blush and throwing an arm around you. You let him pull you in, hiding your own blush by tucking your head underneath his chin.

///

This was ridiculous.

You huffed in frustration, digging harder inside your pack, trying to go by feel alone. Were there really no more shirts in your supplies? How did they even decide to ration outfits for this mission, surely they'd give you more than the six or so shirts you've already gone through. Did they just not think of body odour in space?

You yanked your hand out and settled for a different aproach. Grabbing the underside of your pack, you lifted it up-side-down as high above your head as your arms could reach, and shook.

Various pieces of clothing tumbled out onto the floor.

Tossing the pack to the side unceremoniously, you dug your hands through socks, underwear, shorts, until your eyes spotted a rectangular piece of white fabric.

"Aha!" You said triumphantly and snatched the shirt up. You fumbled with it for a moment before turning it right side up, noticing the print on the front.

Your blood ran cold.

Both you and Ryland had been given tshirts with funny images, puns, and quirky designs. While his usually stuck to the theme of science puns, yours tended to be a little more on-the-nose-milennial with things like 'don't talk to me before I've had my coffee' printed on them. This one had bright pink text right in the middle, in large print that was impossible to miss. Just three simple words.

'TICKLE ME PINK'

You slammed your hands down, concealing the front of the shirt, and shot a panicked behind you to the latch leading to the lab. It was open, as you'd left it, but Ryland was nowhere to be seen. Turning back around, you lifted the shirt up just a little bit, as if to confirm the print was still there.

It was.

You buried your face in the fabric and leaned forward over your criss-crossed legs, groaning desperately.

Incoming rattling alerted you enough to straighten out your back.

"Human okay question?" Came Rocky's voice as he paused next to you.

"I'm fine, Rocky." You said with a slight sigh.

"Human make distressed noise. Why question?"

"I just realised I have one clean shirt left, is all." You deflected.

Rocky raised himself up a little. "Grace say he clean shirts. Ask Grace to teach how clean shirts!"

"Yeah, okay." You said, dread rising in your chest. "I will."

Making sure the front of the shirt is firmly hidden in your lap, you began gathering the rest of your clothing from the floor and shoving it back into your pack. You didn't have to hide the shirt with just Rocky here, it's not like he'd see what's on it. Or be able to read it. Would he? Suddenly you weren't so sure. He might ask to explain what the text says, knowing his curious nature. Yeah, better safe than sorry.

Ryland's voice carried through the Hail Mary, calling for Rocky, who quickly scampered to find him.

God. Ryland.

What the hell were you going to do about Ryland?

You knew for a fact that he would make a big deal out of it. He'd already been known to attack you, claiming it helped him destress, and he wasn't shy about how much he liked tickling. Not like you were. He'd never let you live it down. But what other choice did you have? Your other shirts were too dirty, and you didn't want to go around stinking up the place. For your own sake and Ryland's.

So how were you going to solve this?

You cast one more nervous look to the hatch behind you, then turned back around and peeled your dirty shirt off. Then, slowly, you pulled the clean one on, trying to ignore the heat rising up your neck. Clearing your throat nervously, you grabbed the sleeves of your jumpsuit that you had tied around your waist and tugged them tighter.

Wait.

The jumpsuit!

You just had to put the whole suit on, and the shirt would be concealed.

You untied the sleeves, and slipped your arms in, buttoning the front until the text was out of sight. Then buttoned extra two. Just to be safe.

You smoothed your palms over the front of your jumpsuit, taking a steadying breath, just as Ryland called your name across the ship.

"Coming!" You called back, kicking your pack into a corner to deal with later.

Things will be just fine, you reassured yourself.

@

Your plan worked perfectly. Ryland made no comment on your attire, and the two of you quickly settled into your familiar work routine.

Except it was hot on the Hail Mary, and your layers and long sleeves were not helping.

Ryland had dragged his stool next to you to look at the screen you had been working on. His leg pressed against yours, and his arm stretched in front of you to scroll through your notes and charts. This was normal. You've both abandoned any awkwardness around physical touch long ago. Being stuck in space on a one way mission will do that to you. Boundaries shift and warp when both people need comfort in sight of terror.

You tugged at the collar of your jumpsuit, then dug your fingers underneath that to reach the tshirt. You willed air to flow through your clothes but, of course, there was no breeze on a space ship. Ryland shot you a quick look.

"You okay?" He asked, eyes settling back on the screen in front of him.

"Peachy." You keep your eyes steady on the screen. Ryland lowered his hand and leaned it on the counter, but didn't move his arm away from you. He gave you a once-over.

"You're not too hot in that?" He didn't look suspicious. Just curious. Maybe a little worried. You shrugged noncomitally.

"Hey, does this look weird to you?" You asked, pointing to a particular number. Ryland's eyes snapped back to the screen, and he frowned.

"Could have sworn that was…" He muttered to himself, and clicked through the screen to bring up a spreadsheet. His attention successfully diverted, you let yourself exhale quietly in relief. You stayed sitting for a long few minutes, watching carefully as Ryland clicked through notes and spreadsheets, trying to figure out his train of thought. When he shifted away from you to grab a spare piece of paper and pen, you took it as an opening to escape for a few moments. It was better to leave Ryland to do his equations in peace. Let him come to you when he figured everything out.

You climbed back through the hatch leading from the lab to the sleeping quarters, and immediately unbuttoned your jumpsuit. You peeled the long sleeves off your body and waved your arms back and forth to cool off. You could have sworn it didn't used to be this hot on the ship. Maybe you were just freaking yourself out, and it was making you overheat.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

You sat heavily on one of the beds, resting your elbows on your knees and placing your head in your hands. You just had to make it till dinner. When you're both out of work mode, and eating, guards down, you can ask Ryland to show you how he cleaned his clothes. And then you will clean your shirts and hide this one somewhere no one will ever find it. Or better yet, throw it out the airlock. You drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, controlled. This was a good plan. You could avoid embarrassment.

"So, you were right, those numbers are weird, so I ran through some equations and it looks like there's some kind of an anomaly within the Petrova Line-" Your head snapped up at Ryland's voice entering the sleeping quarters and - to your unfortunate luck - he looked up from his sheet of paper at the exact same time.

There was a beat.

Then your brain caught up to you and you crossed your arms over your torso in a frail attempt to conceal the writing from Ryland.

His eyes flickered to your arms, then snapped back to your face, but he remained where he was in the doorway. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears.

"Whatcha got there?" Ryland asked lightly. You didn't trust his tone.

"Hm? No, nothing- " you cleared your throat nervously, trying to play it cool "- what about the Petrova Line?"

"Yeah," Ryland said after a moment. "There's been a sudden change in how the astrophage is behaving- what's up with your shirt?"

"My shirt?" Heat crawled up your neck. "Nothing's wrong with my shirt - why would anything be wrong with my shirt?" Yeah, real cool and suave. You winced internally.

"…uh-huh." Ryland watched you for a moment longer. He lowered his hand, papers rustling loudly against his thigh. "And you're hiding, why?"

"I'm not hiding! This is just…comfortable." You trailed off lamely.

"Yeah, and you're not a bad liar, either." Ryland was grinning now, which made you even more nervous. He stepped fully into the room and up to the bed you were sitting on. He placed his papers on the mattress next to you, then turned his full attention on you.

That was not a good thing.

"Come on, out with it." He placed his hands on his hips.

"The shirt is…" You trailed your eyes off to the side, looking directly through the diamond shape that Ryland's arm made as it rested on his hip. You could just barely see a sock spilling from your pack where you had disgarded it earlier. "…stupid."

"That clears it up." Ryland said, not unkindly. You huffed and closed your eyes.

"It's embarrassing."

"You know I won't judge you." Ryland's voice softened.

"No, you won't." You said. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"What are you worried about?"

You kept your eyes closed. Not looking at him made it easier to speak. "Don't make me say it."

"Okay, now I'm actually worried." Ryland's hands came to rest on your shoulders, solid, warm, and steady. You let your head drop back.

"This is so duuumb." You groaned pathetically.

"I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

You opened your eyes. Ryland looked worried. That made you feel worse.

"Fine." You said. "But you're not allowed to laugh." Ryland nodded easily, still watching you carefully. Ignoring the heat in your face and your racing heart, you dropped your arms from the front of the shirt. Ryland looked down and his expression immediately changed. You only caught a glimpse of it before you turned your head away.

"Oh, I see." He was choking back laughter.

"You're not supposed to laugh." You complained.

"Sorry, sorry." He rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. "Your ears are really red, by the way."

"Rylaaaaand." You groaned, folding in on yourself. The top of your head pressed against Ryland's stomach where he stood in front of you. His hands shifted easily to accommodate your movements, one moving to the back of your head. He sounded entirely too happy, still attempting to hold in his laughter.

"Are you going to come out from there?" He asked once he composed himself.

"Depends." You muttered into your lap. "Are you done making fun of me?"

"Hey." Ryland gave a few pats on your head, signalling you to sit up. You did so, begrudgingly. "I'd never make fun of you." You nodded, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"I'm surprised you didn't just take one of Ilyukhina's shirts." Ryland added, grinning impishly.

"Oh my god." You rubbed at your eyebrow, mortified. "I can't believe I didn't think of that."

"Better for me that you didn't." He said, scribbling his fingers on the back of your neck. You scrunched your shoulders up instinctively, hand shooting out to grasp his wrist.

"Hey, wait!" You pulled his hand away. He let you, watching you with exaggerated patience. "We have an anomaly in the Petrova Line, we don't have time for-Hey!"

Ryland's hands found purchase on your upper ribs, fingers wriggling in between the spaces of your bones.

"Oh yeah," He said as you started giggling. "This is a good spot, I think I'll hang out here for a while."

You tried to pry his hands off, and when that didn't work, you moved to pushing at his shoulders.

"Tell me something," Ryland continued, unphased by your shoving. "Did you ask for this shirt to be put on the Hail Mary?"

"What- no!" You choked out.

"It's just interesting, don't you think? That you'd get a shirt with tickling on it, I mean - given that you love this. Interesting coincidence."

"Grace, please."

"Oh, it's 'Grace' now, is it?"

"Stop - talking -" You forced yourself to say, attempting to twist away from his offending hands. Ryland was on you in a flash, pushing your body until your side was pressed into the mattress. He braced a leg on the bed, crowding you in.

"Shit shit shit!" You hissed when his hand started squeezing along your side.

"Language!" Ryland scolded, his voice taking on that specific Teacher Tone he undoubtedly used on rowdy teenagers. His other hand came up to the side of your neck and ear, scribling lightly. Your laughter kicked up a notch.

"I-" You struggled to speak. "I bet that-"

"What is it?" You could hear the grin in Ryland's voice, but he didn't slow his hands. You curled in on yourself and turned towards the mattress in an attempt to protect your stomach, and wrapped your arms around your middle.

"I can't hear what you're saying if you're trying to crawl inside the mattress." Ryland chuckled somewhere above you. He slowed his hands to gentle tracing, and you took in a gulp of air. You moved your head to rest your cheek against the mattress, trying to catch your breath.

"I bet that Rocky swears all the time." You shot Ryland a look. "We just can't tell because it's all in Eridian."

"Huh." Ryland paused. Clearly the thought hadn't occured to him before. You watched him for a moment longer, calculating the precise moment his brain kicked into theory high gear. When you spotted it, you launched yourself off the bed.

"Hey!"

You didn't wait to see if Ryland followed you. If you ran fast enough you could make it to the comms and lock the door behind you. Hopefully. You'd need to override Ryland's access first. But you were better at the controls than him.

Rocky startled away from his work as you stumbled into the lab.

"What wrong, question?" He asked, tone rising in alarm.

"Can't talk, gotta run!" You called to him, barrelling through the lab to the next hatch. You were almost there, you just had to make it up the deck.

A pair of arms caught you just as your hands brushed against the doorway. Ryland hauled you back, one arm over the front of your shoulders, the other wrapping around your middle and immediately back to squeezing at your side.

"Where are you off in a rush to?" Ryland asked. Instinctively, you tried to bend foward to protect yourself, but his arm held you up against his chest.

"Nohowhere!" You clutched at his forearm.

"Nowhere? You sure you weren't going to lock me out of the comms?" He asked.

Damn it.

"How did you knohow?" You tried kicking your leg to get out of his grip. You were unsuccessful.

"Human having fun time, question?" Rocky's voice interrupted whatever Ryland was going to say next. For better or worse, Rocky was used to the two of you behaving like this. Ryland had made sure to be very thorough in explaining tickling to Rocky, the first time the Eridian had witnessed this scenario.

"Oh yeah, you bet they are." Ryland answered for you. You tried another kick. Ryland adjusted his hold on you and lowered his hand to squeeze your hip. You yelped, and felt Ryland laugh against your back.

"Why human run if this is fun time, question?" Right, yeah, Rocky didn't understand everything.

"It's part of the fun." Ryland was speaking, ignoring your protests. "It raises excitement and anticipation, and that in turn makes the person more sensitive."

Okay. You couldn't listen to this.

"Truce, truce, truce!" You gasped out, smacking Ryland in the forearm repeatedly. He stopped, loosening his arms just enough to make sure you had your footing. You lowered yourself to the ground, bracing your palms against the floor.

"You okay?" Ryland asked from above. You shot him a look, making him chuckle. "Yeah, you're fine." He reached down to ruffle your hair lightly, and wandered off to the lab table.

Rocky rolled over to you.

"Can breathe okay, question?"

"Yeah," You were still a little breathless. "I can breathe, don't worry."

"Had fun, question?"

You hesitated, then nodded your head. Rocky gave a thumbs up at your affirmative. You did a thumbs up back.

When you looked over at Ryland sitting at the lab table, he seemed to be smiling a little too widely. You ignored the flip in your stomach.

"Are you finally going to tell me about that anomaly?" You asked, trying to play it cool, as you got to your feet. Ryland waved you over, and tilted the screen towards you when you got to the lab table. You leaned forward a little, focused on absorbing as much of the information as possible. Your maths was solid, but not as quick as Ryland's. The web had just begun to untangle in your brain when Ryland spoke up.

"You should wear that tshirt more often."

Your brain stuttered to a stop, head snapping to the side. He was looking at you over his glasses from his perch on the stool. A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"Uh." You cleared your throat. Looked back at the screen. "I'll think about it."

///

The first time the thought crossed your head, you were trying to catch your breath, flopped uselessly on Matt's bed. He pulled you in to him, arm wrapping securely around your waist, and you wrapped yours around him in return.

Things usually ended up this way - a playful remark, a sharp tease, a scuffle, you under Matt as he tickled you until you were pink. Maybe not a daily occurence, but often enough that you both knew the dance. Each time was as fun as the last.

As your palm rested against Matt's ribs, feeling each breath, you thought, what if I turned the tables on him?

Matt reached up the length of your arm and pulled your hand away from his ribs. Fingers lacing your palms together, he tucked your joined hands to his chest.

"You should sleep." He murmured against your cheek. "It's late."

You were asleep before you could think further on your idea.

@

The second time the thought crossed your mind was on an early morning in the middle of the week. A few days had passed since it had first occured to you, but now you were fixated. It was all you could think about.

You leaned against the cupboard, nursing your coffee, and watched Matt.

His back was turned to you, busy with arranging his breakfast. He had already dressed for the day, minus the tie, and his sleeves were rolled up instead of buttoned at the wrists.

You watched the expanse of his back as he shifted. Would a massage tickle him?

Your eyes flickered to the right. Everyone has sensitive ribs, surely that would get him giggling?

You tapped your finger against the rim of your mug.

Maybe the back of his neck was ticklish?

Matt placed the knife down and wiped his hands on a dishtowel, back still to you.

You set your mug down and approached.

Before your hand could even make contact with his shirt, Matt whirled on you, hands grabbing at your ribs. You doubled over immediately.

"I didn't even do anythihing!" You complained through laughter.

"You intended and planned to. Us lawyers call that 'criminal conspiracy'." Matt said, fingers wiggling between your ribs. You twisted away, and Matt let you slip out of his arms easily. You walked backwards until your back hit the cupboard you leaned against earlier.

Matt was grinning.

"How did you even know what I was going to do?" You asked, slightly breathless from the shock, bracing your hand on the edge of the sink next to you.

"I could hear you thinking."

You scoffed. "You can't possibly hear when people are thinking."

Matt gave a light shrug. "I can."

He grabbed his plate and made his way around the kitchen island.

You narrowed your eyes at his retreating figure. What was innocent curiosity at first, now turned into a need to prove him wrong. You were going to get Matt laughing under your fingers.

"You won't win this fight." Matt said matter-of-factly, settling on the armchair. He tilted his head slightly towards you. "You may as well stop now."

You picked up your mug and took a sip.

Game, start.

@

You waited.

You weren't stupid. You knew that if you tried again too soon, you'd have no chance of success. You had to wait until Matt lowered his defenses. And his defenses were definitely up, with the way he listened to your movements more closely, or how he maneuvered your arms so they were away from his sides and ribs at all times. He was acting like a man with something to hide.

A week and a half had passed before you decided it was safe to try again.

"I come bearing gifts!" You announced to the room, pushing the door to Nelson & Murdock open with your shoulder.

Foggy was on his feet and in front of you within a nanosecond.

"What did you get?" He asked, peeking into the brown paper bag in your hand. "Ooh, donuts - you're a lifesaver!"

You let him snatch the bag from you. "Also coffee."

You followed Foggy to his desk.

"Oh, just-" he said around a mouthful of donut. "Shuffle some pages around, it's all a mess anyway."

You did as he said, pushing aside some printouts and pens, making space on the desk to set down the cupholder and coffees.

"Rough case?" You asked.

"Eh." Foggy made a vague gesture with his hand. You glanced to the closed door to Matt's office.

"Did he even leave the room today?"

Foggy followed your gaze. "He's been on calls all day."

You nodded, humming low in your throat. Foggy narrowed his eyes at you.

"What are you planning?" He asked.

"Hm? What do you mean?" You feigned innocence.

"You and Matt have the same look, you know." Foggy said. "When you're scheming."

You smiled sweetly.

"Okay, well, whatever it is -" Foggy pointed a sugar-coated finger at you, "-leave me out of it."

The door to Matt's office clicked open, so you didn't answer. Instead, you sent Foggy a quick salute, and turned to Matt.

"Hey," he said softly, sliding an arm around your shoulders, "what are you doing here?"

"Cabin fever." You said. "Couldn't stand being inside for a moment longer."

"So you came to sit inside the office?" Matt chuckled lightly.

"Better company." You put on your best enticing voice, tilting your head up to his.

"Okay, guys?" Foggy piped up from his seat. "I'm gonna need you to take this elsewhere if you're gonna act all mushy."

"Alright, let's not kill Foggy today. I need him on this case." Matt laughed, steering you to his office.

"Don't eat all the donuts!" You called to Foggy over your shoulder. He waved a dismissive hand, already back to scanning through files. You snickered under your breath, and the door to Matt's office clicked shut.

You walked idly towards Matt's desk, turned your back to it, and perched lightly on it's edge. Matt remained standing near the door, hands on his hips.

"Foggy said you had a lot of calls today." You said, because you could see Matt's defenses rising up again. You needed him to not think if you wanted this to work.

"Uh, yeah." He said, as if snapping our of a trance. He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Lots of witnesses but no one willing to give a statement."

You frowned. "That's suspicious."

"Yeah, exactly." Matt agreed with an amused sort of huff. He made his way to your perch.

"Are you going to Daredevil them into talking?" You asked, reaching out your hands to rest on his biceps when he was close enough. His hands came to hold your elbows gently.

"At this rate, I might have to." He sighed heavily. You hummed sympathetically, sliding your hands up to his shoulders.

"What's a little light blackmailing for the greater good?" You joked, smoothing over Matt's collar. He chuckled.

"You make me sound like a criminal." His fingers squeezed at your elbows lightly.

"Me?" You gasped dramatically. You slid your hands down his chest. "I would never."

You fought to keep cool and collected. You were almost at your target - Matt's ribs. If you could just slide your hands out a little bit, underneath his arms, you could strike.

Matt's hands left your elbows and latched onto your sides.

"What the-" You cut yourself off, trying to hold your laughter in.

"Nice try." Matt said around a smug smile, squeezing at your waist.

"How did you know?" You demanded, twitching from the tingling in your sides.

"You're not as sneaky as you think." Matt said easily. He tugged the hem of your tshirt up so he could slip his hands under the fabric.

"Don't-" You jumped at the feeling of his nails scribbling over your skin. "- Matt, come on. Foggy's gonna hear-"

"But you wanted him to hear me?" Matt interrupted. "Should have thought through your plan more carefully."

Damn him, he was right.

Helpless giggling broke through your defenses. In an attempt to muffle the sound, you pressed your face into Matt's shoulder. You could feel him shaking a little from his own laughter.

"Will you keep your hands to yourself?" He asked, scratching at your lower back.

"Yes, yes!" You nodded against his shirt.

Matt gave one last squeeze to your sides that made you jolt. "Good."

You emerged from your hiding place, heaving a breath. Matt was smiling down at you, and reached a hand up to brush stray strands of hair away from your forehead.

A smirk stretched its way across your face.

Matt, sensing the shift in your mood, paused his movements. "What?"

Silently, you raised your hand in front of you. Matt frowned, then took your raised hand in his, feeling what you were trying to show him.

"Are you serious right now?" He asked in disbelief.

"Mwa-ha-ha!" You exaggerated an evil laugh, waving your crossed middle and forefinger in front of Matt's face.

Matt tilted his head back with a heavy sigh. "You're impossible."

"You'd get bored if I wasn't." You said, guiding his head back toward you with gentle hands. You leaned up a fraction, and Matt followed, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

You weaved your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. His hands rested on the outside of your thighs. You trailed your free hand to the side of his neck.

"Don't even think about it." Matt murmured against your lips just as you were about to curl your fingers behind his ear.

"Booo." You said, leaning back. "You're no fun."

Matt smirked and placed a quick kiss on the side of your nose. "I think Foggy's getting suspicious."

"Of what?" You frowned.

"Of what exactly we're getting up to in here. He's been working up the courage to knock on the door for the past two minutes."

You snorted. "We should put him out of his misery then."

You pushed yourself off the desk, Matt stepping to the side to let you through. When you opened the door to Matt's office, Foggy was indeed hovering nearby with a sheaf of documents.

"He's all yours, Foggy." You announced. Foggy regarded you with sharp eyes.

"I take it whatever you planned didn't work." He surmised, accurately.

"I have no idea what you're referring to." You lied.

@

When the badger glimmered away into another garden

you stood, half-lit with whiskey,

You looked up from your book.

Matt sat on the opposite end of the couch, elbows resting on his knees. He was trailing his fingers over a case document in braille.

It was late. The living room window was cracked open behind you, letting in cool night air and sounds of never sleeping city life. You sat with your back resting against the armrest of the couch, feet tucked close to you on top of the cushions. Matt had tried persuading you to get to sleep, saying he has to catch up on some reading, but you insisted on keeping him company. At least for a little while.

You turned back to the poem in front of you.

sensing you had disturbed

some soft returning.

The murdered dead, you thought.

But it could not have been

You looked up again.

Matt had a soft, worn tshirt on, in a dark grey colour. You could see a small hole at the seam on his shoulder. With how he was positioned, you couldn't help but notice he left his waist and ribs exposed. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to formulate a plan, and went back to reading.

some violent shattered boy

nosing out what got misla-

You zeroed in on Matt's torso again.

"Don't even try." Matt said evenly, not pausing his reading. You flopped your book against your thighs.

"I didn't even move." You said.

Matt tilted his head towards you with an expression that said 'we're really going to do this?'

"I just don't get why you won't let me tickle you." You huffed.

"I don't get why you're so set on tickling me." Matt replied.

"I want to hear you laugh."

"You hear me laugh all the time."

"Aha!" You pointed a triumphant finger at him. "You know that's not the same, you told me so yourself!"

Matt smiled and turned back to his braille. "You're not tickling me."

You shot a childish grimace in his direction and picked up your book.

nosing out what got mislaid

between the cradle and the explosion,

Slowly, casually, you stretched your legs out across the length of the couch.

evenings when windows stood open

Gently, your feet made contact with Matt's body. One foot rested near his hip, the other slightly higher against his waist.

You stopped moving, eyes on the page in front of you. Matt flipped a page in his documents.

and the compost smoked down the backs?

You wiggled your toes against his side with exactly two movements, before your foot got snatched by the ankle and pulled into Matt's lap. He scribbled his hand over the bottom of your foot.

You didn't have a chance at composure. Loud laughter escaped your lungs and you twisted, hard, your book falling to the floor.

"What did I tell you?" Matt asked over your laughter.

You were too busy laughing to respond. You yanked your leg but Matt calmly brought it back to him, continuing his attack.

"You know," he continued. "I'm starting to think this whole thing is an elaborate plot to get me to tickle you more."

"It's nohot!" You exclaimed.

"I bet you weren't even reading." Matt said.

"I wahas!"

"Yeah? What was your poem about?"

"Bahadgers!"

"Badgers? And what were the badgers doing?" Matt wrapped his arm more securely around your calf.

"I don't knohow!" You cried. "Explohoding?"

"Exploding badgers." Matt snickered.

"Matt, plehease!"

Matt lowered your leg so it rested against his thigh. Warm hand laid on your ankle, and he used his free arm to lean closer to you over the couch cushions.

"You know what they call it when someone keeps doing the same thing over and over and expects different results?" He asked.

"Don't quote Einstein at me right now." You huffed, flopping your head back against the armrest. You closed your eyes and willed your heart to slow down.

"How much longer are you going to keep doing this?" Matt's voice brought you back from your meditation.

You raised your head up a fraction. "Until it works."

Matt chuckled airily, shaking his head in disbelief. He straightened back, leaning over to the coffee table to pick up his documents again. You flexed your foot against his thigh.

"You could just let me." You informed him, watching him expectantly.

Matt paused his shuffling. His mind was hard at work, you could tell.

"We'll see." He said finally.

A wide grin stretched over your face.

@

There was a shuffling sound, followed by a light thud and click as something latched into place.

Eyes still closed, you felt for your phone under the pillow. The bright light made your eyes water when you looked at the screen.

4:33am

Daredevil was home, then.

You listened carefully for any familiar sounds of distress; groaning, stumbling, the first aid cupboard rattling open. None came. Matt's footsteps were steady, heading directly to the bathroom.

The shower turned on.

Releasing a breath, you slipped your phone back under your pillow and stretched out onto your back.

You must have drifted back to sleep, because the next thing that registered in your mind was Matt climbing onto the mattress. Instead of going to his side of the bed, he climbed directly onto you.

You groaned slightly when he let his whole weight rest on top of you, but your arms came round to hold him closer. Matt buried his face in the crook of your shoulder with a long exhale. You weaved your fingers through his wet hair, the smell of shampoo drifting towards you. Your other hand rested between his shoulder blades.

"How did it go?" You whispered, unwilling to break the silence fully.

Matt groaned quietly. "The usual." He matched his volume to yours.

"Any injuries?" You rubbed your hand down the length of his back gently.

"Just a few punches. Barely felt it."

The conversation drifted off into comfortable silence. Matt adjusted his position on top of you slightly, melting further into you. You slipped your hand under his tshirt and continued your gentle massage.

Matt's breathing deepened, and you thought he had fallen asleep. You trailed your hand down to his side, intending to rest your elbow against the mattress but continue embracing him.

His head twitched against your shoulder. Imperceptible, if he weren't pressed against you.

Putting on a sleepy sigh to hide your heart skipping in excitement, you turned your head to rest your chin against Matt's hair. He sniffed lightly, settling again.

You watched the ceiling through the darkness, and waited a beat. Then another. And another.

With barely-there pressure, you curled your fingers against the soft skin on Matt's waist.

This time, the muscles under your hand twitched.

You bit at the corner of your mouth to hold back from grinning.

As casually as possible, you trailed your fingers up across Matt's lower back, then down again to his waist.

"I know what you're doing." Matt mumbled sleepily into your skin.

"Oh yeah?" You challenged, curling your fingers again, a little quicker. This twitch was slightly more controlled, but still noticeable. "You're not doing anything to stop me."

Matt made a vague sound from the back of his throat, but stayed still, arms curling up under the pillow you rested on. You took this as a sign to continue.

You increased your pace slightly, swirling looping patterns over the expanse of his skin. His shoulder flexed whenever you reached up to his bottom rib.

But you needed more.

Time to switch tactics. Zeroed in on that lowest rib, you scribbled your fingers even faster. You continued in this way until you felt Matt's lips twitch into a smile against your neck. He made a small huffing sound, like he was trying not to laugh.

You moved your other hand from his hair, and copied your movements on his other side. A full chuckle left Matt, making you grin triumphantly.

You pinched at his sides.

"Alright, alrihight!" Matt laughed brightly, reaching behind him to pull your hands away. He raised his head a little, nose brushing against your jaw. "Are you satisfied now?"

You hummed skeptically.

Matt rolled his eyes, but settled back into your shoulder. "You're unbelievable."

"And you let me tickle you." You teased.

"Don't get used to it."

You settled back into the pillow, smiling widely.