#ler!2bdamned

"Hank," 2BDamned let out an exasperated sigh as they softly opened the mercenary's bedroom door, looking at the adorable sight in front of them. The blankets were kicked off the bed, and the pillows were messy and all over the place... and right in the middle of it all laid the culprit responsible for it all, Hank J Wimbleton, who was still sleeping soundly with soft snores coming from him. His body relaxed against the mattress, with his left arm and leg dangling off the bed.

It took everything in their power not to start laughing at the sight, deeming it hilarious due to the fact that they had never seen him so vulnerable and exposed like that. They knew how much the mission took out of him but dreaded this moment with all of their heart. Hank never slept much, considering the bad insomnia that he fought daily, but when he managed to fall asleep... it was quite literally hell to wake him up. The whole base figured this out the first time it happened, and now the three share a custom of playing rock, paper, scissors to decide who gets to be the unlucky soul to wake them up.

And unfortunately, it was Doc.

"I'm comin' in, Hank," Doc whispered, mainly to themself, as they entered the other's bedroom, noticing how messy they kept their room. They were stepping over empty beer bottles and random clothes as they made their way to his bed. Hank didn't even move a muscle, he just continued to lay there peacefully as if nothing was happening. Doc inhaled sharply. This was the moment they were waiting for. They let out the single breath they were holding as they put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him with a bit of force.

"Hank? Hank, it's time to get up." Doc muttered, squinting their eyes at the sleeping figure. Hank only grumbled and turned onto his stomach as if that would protect him from getting woken up. Their fingers grasped the sleeping figure, shaking them a bit harder. There was still nothing happening. Hank was still sleeping, and Doc was growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that they were such a heavy sleeper. Their other hand reached toward the bridge of their nose, clutching it slightly. They knew they'd have to wake him up - but how?

Doc then grabbed the light covers, pulling them off. It didn't do considering his outfit very much was more than enough to warm him during the night. Doc sighed, frustrated.

"Hank, I'm... erm, damn it," Doc growled as they shook their head. They were a doctor! Well, not a legitimate one, but close enough. There had to be something they could do to get the other out of bed. Doc's gaze narrowed down the length of his body, listening to the other continue to snore without a care in the world. They were silent for a few moments before a sinister idea crept into their mind. A grin formed across their face - they had the best idea.

"Hank, I'm going to count to three," Doc announced loudly, moving lower on the bed. They climbed onto the soft mattress, sitting right next to the other man's legs. This was going to be good - something that Hank couldn't ignore or shrug off. Well, if it even worked on him. Doc's hand moved closer and closer to his ankle, a smirk underneath their mask.

"One," Doc muttered, hand wrapping around his ankle with a bit of force. They paused for a second, looking at the still-sleeping figure with a raised eyebrow. "Two," they continued, pursing their lips as his fingertips twitched with anticipation. Their hand hovered over his socked foot, keeping quiet for any signs of life. Doc chuckled softly, a playful and teasing sound coming out of their mouth.

"....Three." Doc's fingers skittered all over Hank's socked foot, in which Doc finally got a rise out of him - one that they had desperately wanted. Hank sputtered out something unintelligible as his body began to fight back against the ticklish sensations, trying to pull his ankle away from the other's nimble fingers. That only encouraged Doc to keep their grip tighter as their fingertips danced all over his soles. Hank burst out into hysterical laughter, shutting their eyes as they buried their head into their soft pillow.

"Ah, so you're awake now," Doc purred, their eyes narrowing in a teasing way that the other unfortunately couldn't see. A giant smirk was plastered all over their face - they found the situation more amusing than ever, knowing that Hank fuckin' Wimbleton, out of everyone they knew, was ticklish. And extremely, by the simple looks of it. Doc's fingers continued to scribble all over his socked foot, Hank's hand hitting the side of the bed.

"Doho- fUHUHCK! DOhohoHOHOC!" Hank squeaked out through his many frantic peels of laughter, his entire body squirming against them. Oh, this was just too good now. "Yes, Hank~? What do you need?" they asked, turning their head back as they continued to mercilessly torture their friend. Their fingers traveled up and down almost agonizingly, making Hank let out a squeal before dissolving into more laughter, his pitch rising with every torturous touch. "YOHOHOU- AHAH-" Hank was cut off multiple times by his own laughter and squeals, as he planted his face back into his pillow.

"Aw, Hank, you know I can't understand you like that..~" Doc teased, letting a small huff of amusement escape their lips. Unfortunately, they had completely forgotten how strong Hank actually was... so the minute the top of his foot met their jaw, it made them jerk back. Of course, Hank didn't mean to - they'd never intentionally hurt the other, but it's... just what happened. "Ahaha, s-shit, Doc, you alright?" Hank asked, feeling their grip on his ankle loosen.

Hank immediately shot up, their hand cupping the side of Doc's face with a concerned look. "Did I hurt you too bad? I didn't ... mean to, it was..." Doc only chuckled in response, giving him a soft look as they shook their head.

"Don't worry about it. I expected to see some resistance. It caught me off-guard a bit," they explained with a bit of a laugh. "But nothin' I can't handle. Hey, you're fully awake now." Hank pouted a bit, still upset that he accidentally kicked the other. His hand continued to cup the side of their face. "Oh, on another note..." they spoke softly, setting aside their mask to show their scarred face. Their lips pursed for a moment before continuing. "I think that might be my favorite way to wake you up now. Well, minus the kicking. I might have to do it again...~"

"...ugh," Hank grumbled, rolling his eyes as he stretched upward. "That was unnecessary."

"For you, maybe," Doc responded with a slight teasing glint in their eye. "But to me, I think it was quite cute. And fun. I'm have to lighten you up a bit sometimes." They joked. "Besides, you wouldn't get up for anything else. I even shook you a bunch of times."

Hank only gave them a side-eye, pouting a bit as their cheeks turned a soft pink color. "...shut up."

Doc raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you sound like you want more with an attitude like that."

And just like that, Doc immediately pounced on Hank, for what wouldn't be the last 'attack' of the day. Deimos and Sanford were long forgotten, thanks to Hank's attitude. It wasn't like either of them minded, though.

Doc knew how hard it was for Hank to fall asleep. Being constantly on the run and overall tense, fighting until he's bruised and broken, lingering on until the very end. Surely the poor mercenary would be exhausted, no?

Well, that was just the answer. No.

Although Hank could be exhausted beyond belief, as far as he'd ever known, there was no way for him to fall asleep. Well, that's what it felt like anyway. It got to a point where the bags underneath their eyes could be seen through the red tint of their goggles. It got to the point where even Deimos and Sanford were starting to complain, wondering about solutions to their problem. Eventually, they dragged 2BDamned into the equation.

They had the most medical knowledge here, and if that counted for anything, surely, they must've had some idea how to get Hank to fall asleep. "Doc," the mercenary muttered, letting out a soft yawn underneath the cloth that stuck to his face, "you called?"

They smiled underneath their own mask, nodding. "Yeah. The others are concerned about the lack of sleep you're gettin'. And by the looks of it, I feel like you should be concerned too." Hank shuffled by the doorway; their arms crossed over their chest.

"I'm fine, Doc," muttered Hank, whose body started to feel heavy. The doctor pursed their lips, suddenly standing up to go meet the other by the door. "You do not look fine. Go sit down on the table, alright?" 2BDamned pointed over toward the table they had just cleaned, turning swiftly on their heels.

"But, 2B, I can't—" Hank protested but was quickly silenced by the emotion in their eyes.

"Do not argue with me on this Wimbleton," they narrowed their eyes. "You look terrible, and everyone can see it. If there is a way to get you to sleep, I will find it." Hank pouted slightly, shaking their head as they reluctantly did what the doctor told them to.

Before long, 2BDamned turned back with a bunch of things cradled in their arms. Medicine to help with sleep, sweet auras to try and relax him (like that would ever work, he was constantly tense), and even some tea that they hoped would help him.

"This is stupid, 2B." The other person didn't reply, and Hank even went silent for a little while.

They began trying everything they could. At first, he took the medicine. It seemed that after thirty minutes of waiting and lying down on the table, it didn't work after all. Quite disappointing but there were other things that could work. The second thing they tried was to light a couple of candles, and other sweet-smelling things, but it seemed after the first second of smelling it, Hank wasn't too fond of this idea.

"Too overwhelming," as they had said to the doc, who had promptly put them out. It was fine. Maybe this last thing could work? They stirred some honey in the freshly made tea (of course, Doc had made it exactly the way Hank liked it) and handed the cup to him.

After a few minutes, the question stirred once more. "Do you feel tired yet?"

The same answer was given.

No.

2BDamned sighed, putting a palm to their forehead. There had to be something that could work. Anything! Hank was getting restless, they could tell, and after a few seconds of thinking, the mercenary hopped off the table, barely able to keep himself up. "Listen, thanks for tryin' Doc, but it just isn't gonna—"

"I GOT IT!" 2BDamned suddenly yelled out. Hank cringed backward a little, freaked out by the sudden loudness of his friend.

"Lay back down, but this time, on your stomach," Doc instructed, their mind racing with thoughts of whether this 'technique' of theirs had often times worked on them when they were younger. "I also need you to take your jacket off. Your shirt, too, if you're comfortable with it."

Hank hesitated slightly, before succumbing to their orders, taking off the top layers of his clothes and laying down with their head resting on their arms. "Like this?" they questioned softly, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

2BDamned could see all the scars that Hank had gotten over the years, the ones that were healed, the ones that were... getting there, and the ones that downright just looked awful. "Mhmm, that's perfect. I'm going to start now, okay?"

Hank nodded, closing his eyes to possibly help with what the doc was trying to do. But there was no way in hell they could've prepared for what they were going to do to him. Doc's fingers traced over his back softly, the gloved parts of their hand gliding across his scarred skin.

"Hng—" Hank repressed the urge to make any noise. He was shaking a little and his body seemed to grow tenser. Doc only smirked, finding the other's reactions endearing. The mercenary's fists clenched together as they hid their face in the crook of their arm, small breaths of what seemed to be laughter flowing out of their mouth.

"This used to work on me all the time," Doc explained quietly. "It would calm me right down. I used to have nightmares and had problems getting to sleep too, y'know but when someone would rub their hands on my back, it felt amaz— Hank, are you okay? You're not as calm as I thought you'd be."

The doctor paused their explanation as the man's laughter got a little louder, their fingers now circling a sensitive scar near his hip. Hank nodded. "I-I'm good, Dohohoc," they chuckled out, trying to hold back all reactions. The doctor's eyes widened as they finally figured out what was happening, a smirk growing under their masked face.

"Seems someone's a bit ticklish, huh? Don't worry, I'll keep it soft," Doc whispered, their fingers drawing random shapes on his back as they let out a few chuckles themself. The sensations kept switching back from being soothing to unbearably ticklish. It kept throwing Hank off a little every time they moved their fingers, but he couldn't deny that it did help a little. Well, maybe more than a little.

"D-Dohohon't tehehease me," Hank grumbled through soft giggles. 2BDamned was relishing in the noises they were hearing from the usually stoic mercenary. Their fingers trailed upward to his shoulder blades but suddenly stopped, watching the other flip over, his eyes widened. "N-Not thehehere, p-plehehease," they whined, their shoulders tense. "I c-cahahan't tahahake it."

2BDamned nodded, laughing along with the other. "Fine, fine, I'll stay low, alright?" They watched the taller man flip back over, still dissolving into giggles even though they weren't touching him. It was cute. Too cute, they caught themselves thinking as their hands descended on him again, gently stroking the lower part of his back, right above scars that had healed. "But since you're not tryin' to kill me, I have to assume that you like this."

Hank said nothing as his entire face turned red, the small breathy laughs still escaping from his mouth. The way his fingertips danced wasn't an unwelcome feeling. They weren't a physical person normally, avoiding people's touches like the plague, but there was something about the way Doc was doing it that made him completely melt. Even if he was giggling hysterically during the process of it. "I sahahhah- said, don't tehease me," Hank grumbled, clearing his throat as his words started to slur together. It was clear that it was working.

"I'm not teasing you. I'm stating a clear fact." Doc replied, pressing into the soft flesh of his back with medium intensity, watching the other tense up for a minute before relaxing again. "I'm glad something worked out for you. I know how hard it is for you to sleep normally. Especially considering all these scars. Must've been hard to heal from, huh, Hank?" They asked but was surprised when they got no reply.

"Hank?" The doctor took their hands off of them, leaning over to see a sight that they'd never seen before.

Hank was finally asleep.

2BDamned let out a small huff, removing their mask as a faint outline of a smile traced their features. They picked up the somewhat-light man, carrying him off to his room.

It seemed like they'd have to do this more often.