#ler!deimos

"Deimos―" Hank inhaled sharply, spinning on their heels to face the other man behind him who had been aimlessly wandering around the base behind him, seemingly bored out of his mind. While they never minded the members checking up and wanting to converse with him, they did mind when they did it constantly. It felt like he was breathing down his neck. He needed to say something. "Go see Sanford."

Deimos only shook his head in response. "Can't. Sanford is out on business, 'member?" Hank faintly remembered the other man yelling out in the building that he had work to attend to. It's precisely when all of this mess started happening as well. If only they had been put together on the mission, they thought. "I'm bored outta my fuckin' mind, Hank!"

"Not my problem," was Hank's reply. The masked man sat down on a chair, pulling a small radio into his lap. It had been one of the agent's radios, one that they snatched off from their dead body. He wanted to see if they could use it for their own personal gain, getting information by pretending to be an agent, but before he could even think to do that, he felt two fingers jab into his sides. His normally dull eyes widened at the shocking feeling as he almost jumped ten feet into the air.

The noise that escaped his mouth was one he had probably never heard from himself, and that alone was enough to send the stoic member into a complete breakdown. His whole face, from what Deimos could see, was completely red as he tried to process what just happened. "No way, dude, you're ticklish?" He tried to stop himself from laughing but what else are you supposed to do when you find out the world's most wanted mercenary is weak to a few tickles?!

"Deimos, don't―" Hank tried to sound threatening, but it came out in a pathetic whine. They set the radio back down, as to not break it as they tried to bolt across the room. It didn't end very well as Hank's boot had gotten caught on one of the chair legs he was sitting on. Deimos stared on in absolute amusement. "Jeez, Hank. You're makin' this kinda easy on me, huh?"

Hank grunted slightly as he felt the other man's weight on top of him. He was definitely screwed now, at the hands of someone who had no intention of letting his ticklishness pass by. "Get off, asshole," Hank muttered as he struggled underneath him, their arms desperately attempting to push him off. The other gasped in mock offense. "Hank, you're so mean! How dare you! I think you need to learn some manners." Deimos gently slid his hands up the mercenary's shirt, his hands resting on their newly discovered sensitive flesh. Hank's body tensed, and his eyes widened behind his red goggles.

"Deimos, I swear to goHOHOohd!' His fingers had only gently dug into his bare flesh, and the most surprising noise fell out of Hank's mouth. Deimos stared at him, his mouth gaping open before hysterical laughter fell out of him. It took a moment for the younger man to recover, his breathy chuckles still lingering in the air. "Hank, did you just squeal?" The other turned away, frowning underneath the cloth on his face.

"S-Shut up, and get off!" Hank stuttered, their legs kicking weakly behind them. With a playful tint in his eyes, Deimos' fingers scribbled away at the man's torso, getting every inch of flesh he could possibly find. He was doing absolutely everything he could to send the poor person into hysterics - and judging from the loud laughter now peeling from the mercenary's lips, it seemed like it was working. Hank's laugh definitely contrasted with his stoic/edgy personality, being loud and almost a little high-pitched. "D-DehehehIHIHIHMOS! FUHUHUCK! NOT THEHERE!" Deimos had found a particularly sensitive spot right down by his hips, his sadistic grin only growing wider.

"Not where? Not here?" Deimos dug his fingers into his hips again, watching the man underneath him jerk upwards, his hands desperately trying to grab at his attacker's wrists. "Man, you're just so ticklish. I wonder how you've survived like this. You know how screwed you'd be if the AAHW found out about this? Oh, but it's okay - I'm wonderful at keeping secrets. World's best." Hank's face flushed ten times more at the teasing, shaking their head desperately as they continued to laugh.

"YOHOHOHOU'RE SUCH AN AHAHAHASS!" Hank cursed out, his laughter raising an octave as Deimos continued mercilessly attacking that one spot, vibrating his fingers right into their bone. "Oh, I'm an ass, huh? Is that what I am?" He repeated that question again, his hands moving back upward towards the taller man's ribs. His hands turned into a claw shape, and when he descended on their ribs, the reaction he got was unlike any other.

Hank shrieked. And not some slight, girly shriek. It was LOUD. Enough to burst eardrums probably, but Deimos had already been through this sort of thing with Sanford (who was ... maybe equally as ticklish as Hank was) and it only slightly made him cringe. If Deimos' smirk could get wider, it probably would. "Oh? What have I found here? Is this your worst spot? Here? Or right here?" Hank was sure to kill this man unless he ended up dying of laughter. His hands traveled up and down his ribcage, attaching himself to his writhing body. No matter which way they turned, his hands continued to follow them. How was he so good at this?!

"D-DEIHIHIMOS―" Hank was almost at their limit, tears pricking at the corner of their eyes. Their laughter had turned sort of wheezy, and their fighting had ultimately stopped. He seemed to have no more energy, considering he was just lying there taking it by now. Deimos cocked an eyebrow, his nimble fingers grazing lazily over his stomach. "Are you going to apologize?" He asked in a low voice. Hank's head shot upward. "Whahaht...? Why ahaham I apohohohlogizing?!"

Deimos frowned, digging his fingers into Hank's side again, causing him to jerk forward and let out a loud squeal. "You know, for calling me an asshole! TWICE!" If only Deimos could've seen the face they shot at him, letting out a soft sigh as they rolled their eyes. "F-Fine, I'm s-sorry... just no more tickling, alright?!"

Deimos seemed content with this answer. He quickly stepped off the mercenary, grinning at all the 'damage' he had caused. Hank took off his goggles, wiping his eyes softly. "You better not tell anyone," Hank grumbled, letting out a huff as he rubbed his sides to get rid of the phantom sensation that was still there. "Fine, fine." He got back in return, his hand waving in dismissal.

"I'm back!" Sanford yelled at the front of the base, his loud gruff voice echoing through the halls.

"Ooh, San, you'll NEVER guess what I learned!"

So much for being the world's best secret keeper, huh?

[Fin.]

“Another one, Doc,” Deimos whined, lowering his head onto the wood of the bar they had in their lounge. Today was April Fools - and of course, as the biggest jokester in the group, Deimos just had to do something to each of the organization's members. They were mainly harmless pranks that he’d pull every year that managed to surprise them every year. Some of them included replacing the salt in the sugar container (he had gotten 2BDamned with that earlier, and boy was it priceless), putting paper signs on the backs of his friends, and even going as far as the change the shower head and add washable hair dye into it. Harmless little things like that really spiced up the holiday, but there was one person that he wasn’t able to prank. 

Sanford. 

No matter what he had done, nothing seemed to work on him. All of the food pranks he had lined up got overlooked easily, and he seemed totally on guard the entire day. Hell, even Hank wasn’t this bad! He actually fell for the hair dye prank earlier, and let’s just say he wasn’t the happiest camper in the building after that. It wasn’t like he could stay mad at Deimos for long though, it was his day to shine, and he’d let him have that. The jumpscare pranks didn’t catch him off-guard, and if he even suspected that it was part of Deimos’ prank, he’d refuse it. 

2BDamned slid another drink over to the saddened technician, huffing slightly as they wiped down behind the bar. “Are you seriously sulking over not being able to prank Ford?” They asked, leaning their body over the edge. Deimos frowned, nodding against the wood as he slowly sipped from the glass he was given. As much as they wanted the hook-wielder to be prank-free today, it just didn’t seem fair that they all got pranked except for him. Doc let out a sigh, putting away his drinks as he patted Deimos on the head softly. 

“Listen, kid,” they started, watching the other’s head lift up slowly. “What if I told you that there was a way to prank him? Well, maybe not prank him, but I can tell you one of his weaknesses.” The way his eyes lit up was a sight to behold, and he grinned, his sharp teeth poking out. “Really?” he asked, tilting his head. He almost looked like a curious dog to them. It was almost endearing, to be honest, and even they couldn’t help but smirk underneath their mask. They dropped the cloth they were using to clean the tabletop, slowly making their way over to where he was sitting. 

“Yeah. Want me to show you how you’re going to get him?” 

The other nodded frantically. Without a warning, the Doc’s fingers grasped at the technician’s sides, squeezing with enough intensity to make the other squeal, his legs kicking upwards and almost hitting the underside of the table. A few seconds later, his mouth flew open and his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Doc’s hands, watching their fingers wiggle in place. “Wahait, you’re tellin’ me…” 

“... that Sanford is ticklish? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” They finished his sentence, shrugging like it was everyday information they knew. Well, in all fairness, they were their primary doctor and nothing got past them. Especially how ticklish they knew all three of them were, that was for damn sure. Deimos’ mouth was still open, the cogs in his brain turning as he processed this information. Sanford? Ticklish? 

He hadn’t even considered the possibility of it. Sanford was just the person to not be fazed by anything, being one of the ‘toughest motherfuckers around’, as the technician had said once. Suddenly, the door burst open to the base, and no one else but the man himself walked through, carrying around a heavy bag full of weapons. “I’m back from the mission,” Sanford yelled out, groaning as he carried the bag to the side of the couch. The timing was absolutely impeccable, and the tech stared up at the doctor. Doc tilted their head forward as if telling Deimos “now’s your chance” without actually speaking to him. 

Deimos hesitated for a moment, clearly still thinking about it. He shook his head. What was he doing?! This was his chance to finally get Sanford, and he was not letting this pass by! He lifted himself off the bar stool, tiptoeing over to the couch where the hook-wielder had sat down, staring down at the bag of weapons he had to sort out later. A few more steps and he’d be close enough to grab him… just a little closer. … one more step.

Now!

Without warning, Deimos tackled the other to the couch, essentially pinning him down underneath him. “What are you-! Agh-.” He groaned as he felt the weight of the technician on his waist. Normally, Sanford would be able to turn the tables easily in rough-housing sessions like this, but since he had just gotten back from a mission that required him to be a bit more active than usual, all of that energy had completely drained from him. 

“Well, I may or may not have heard someone say a little something about how I can ‘prank’ you this April Fools, so, of course, I’m going to take the chance I’ve got! Let's see," Deimos muttered, grinning basically from ear to ear as he picked out a spot to attack first. Eventually, his hands landed by his sides, just as Doc had done to him, and he squeezed.

The shriek that rang through the building did not disappoint.

Sanford threw his head back against the couch's armrest, suddenly unable to fight back at all against the ticklish sensations running up his sides. "aAHAHhhAHAHhAH- D-dEIHIMOS!" His voice cracked slightly as the other grabbed his wrists weakly, but that only really edged the other on, his little grin suddenly turning to a playfully sinister smirk. His fingers dug deeper into his flesh, and suddenly, he wished he hadn't worn so little on the daily. Sanford's back arched into his fingers (un)fortunately, and Deimos being the little shit he was with this information, vibrated his fingertips against the now visible bone of his lower ribs.

"What's wrong, Ford? Do you just happen to be a bit ticklish~? Just a wittle~?"

Deimos could even hear 2BDamned snort in the back, clearly amused with the reactions they were getting from the poor, tortured man. Sanford's bubbly laughter continued to pour out almost endlessly, his legs kicking out and digging into the cushions of the couch. As if he wasn't ticklish enough, he just had to start teasing him! It completely caught him off-guard and the whole room could see his face turn into a dark shade of red.

"nAHAAHAHA- StAhAHAHAHAHP yOHOHOU DUHUHUMBAHAHASS!" Deimos almost seemed offended. Almost. Considering he couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face, it was quite awkward to try and act like that was something that truly hurt his feelings. He adored the reactions he was getting from the one squirming underneath him, watching him try to control himself despite his nerves telling him the opposite. "Oh, so you wanna throw insults, huh? Let's not forget who's in what position, now, yeah?" The other leaned forward, whispering into the other's ear softly which only sent him into more hysterics, scrunching his neck up to protect himself. He ultimately failed. "2B! Know any good tactics?"

"Fruit," was all they responded, trying to keep their own reactions at bay. Fruit? What the hell was that supposed to mean? As his fingers continued to roam all over the larger man's torso, the lightbulb finally went off. Ohhhh. Fruit.

Raspberries.

His fingers suddenly stopped, and Sanford was given a moment to breathe. "Do you like fruit, Sanford?" The question sounded so innocent, but the grin that followed it was so sinister that it sent shivers down his spine. He looked back and forth nervously, his lips twitching upwards in an awkward smile. "I-I guess? Buhuhut that has nothing to do with-" his eyes widened in realization as he finally figured out what that meant. "No- no. No. Deimos. DEIMOS. Don't you dare." Sanford quite literally let out the most pitiful whine he had ever heard, but the technician continued testing his limits, pursing his lips as he slowly lowered his head down to his tummy.

"DON'T."

Deimos looked upwards, a raised eyebrow visible underneath his visor. "Don't 'what', Sanford?" Please fall for it, please fall for it, please fall for it. It was the only thing that he was begging for, and surprisingly, in a nervous mess between knowing that he was about to be tickled to tears and the teasing that Deimos hadn't stopped, he actually responded in a way that favored the technician.

"TICKLE ME-" Sanford's nose scrunched up as he realized his mistake. "WAIT, I DIDN'T MEAN IT- DEIMOS!"

"Well, if you want it so badly, who am I to judge?" Deimos, with the most shit-eating grin, lowered his head once more, his lips coming in contact with the other's toned stomach.

"Has anyone seen the weapons that Sanford picked up-" Hank, who had finally joined the party like everyone else, had gotten cut off by the sudden loud scream of Sanford. Their eyes darted toward the sight of the noise, staring at the other two messing around on the couch while the bartender laughed into their hand, clearly enjoying this a little too much. "What did you do?" He asked, his dark eyes shining through his red goggles. They calmed down long enough to respond.

"Deimos wanted to prank Sanford," Doc explained, their gruff, breathy laughter still ringing quietly in the area, "so I told Deimos that he was ticklish."

"YOHOHOHOU'RE SOHOHOHO DEHEHEAD, DOHOHOC!" Sanford yelled out between shrieks and squeals, pushing on Deimos' shoulders lightly to try and get him off. If there was one thing that the group could compliment him on, it was that he was damn persistent. Of course, in this situation, it didn't seem like a good thing. Especially for Sanford.

Deimos leaned back up, his own face slightly pink. "Has someone had enough tickles for today~? Or does wittle Sanford want some more~?" He stuck out his lower lip, pretending like he was pouting. The other only continued to lay there, resting his arm over his face as he regained his composure. Sanford took his circular sunglasses off, wiping the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes.

Deimos hadn't even realized it but he was staring. Hard. How could one person even be this cute? How could it be possible? Sanford let out a shaky breath, stray giggles flowing through the room. "Whahat are you starin' at, shithead?" Sanford asked jokingly, shaking his head. Deimos jumped slightly, his face turning red. "Uh, nothing. Happy April Fools?" Deimos said nervously, removing himself from the larger one's waist.

"Oh, the day is still long, Deimos," Sanford replied.

"I still have a couple of pranks to pull myself."

It was quick to the rest of the group that the whole day was going to be filled with laughter. And honestly, that was alright.

"S-So, Sanford and I were on a mission, right?" Deimos announced, looking at the three that were gathered around the lounge eating dinner after a long day of back-to-back missions. Sanford groaned loudly as he turned his head in shame, immediately recognizing the story that his boyfriend was telling. "You ass, you don't need to tell this story," he remarked, pursing his lips as he took a sip of his soda. The storyteller only chuckled at that, giving him a wink before continuing.

"Anyways, we were on a mission. It happened a few days ago, yeah? Sanford got himself into a bit of trouble with the automatic door... a-and..." Deimos couldn't help but burst into giggles, closing his eyes as he hid his face in his hands. The other two, Doc and Hank, only stared on in amusement as they both listened to the story. The technician quickly gained his composure back as he continued telling the story.

"Sanford's pant leg got caught in the automatic door. So, I pick him up under the arms and pull him..." Deimos shot a snarky grin toward the one in question. "And he lets out the most high-pitched squeak known to man. It shocked me for a minute, but that shit was so funny," Deimos cackled, leaning backward into the couch he was sitting on.

"Shut up! Everyone's ticklish, dumbass," Sanford responded, with a light pout and a scarlet face, clearly embarrassed by the whole situation.

"...uhhh, what the hell are you two talking about?" Hank piped up, their eyes flicking between the two. The couple turned to face him, raising both of their eyebrows. "What do you mean? Do you mean what mission we were on? Well, it was the-"

Deimos was cut off by them shaking their head.

"No, I mean, what the hell is 'tickling?'"

The whole room went silent, and all eyes were suddenly on Hank. They were all giving him a look of confusion like he'd just shot every single one of them with no remorse. They couldn't help but wonder if they had said something wrong. He looked over to 2BDamned, who was also giving him the same look. Hank tilted his head. "What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

Deimos was the first to speak. "W-Wait, so you're tellin' me," he paused for a moment, eyeing both his boyfriend and the doctor, "that you've never been tickled before?"

"No, I have not. What is it?" All of their expressions changed from confusion to smugness, smirks decorating each of their faces. It seemed like they were planning something but how was he supposed to know what they were going to do? Were they going to tickle him? ...whatever that meant, they thought. Hank was suddenly cut out of his thoughts as Doc locked his arms underneath Hank's own, essentially immobilizing him.

"H-Hey, what are you d-doing?!" Hank suddenly grew confused. Were they about to hurt him? Why else would they need to restrain them?! He struggled in the other's grasp, kicking his legs out as if that would do him any good. They forgot how strong Doc exactly was, considering that they never really went out to fight that often. Sanford and Deimos were slowly creeping over to him, a slightly evil grin on both of their faces.

"Oh, Hank~," Deimos spoke softly, his sharp teeth visible with that childish grin on his face. "You have no idea the situation you've put yourself in, huh?" There was a moment of silence between the four of them, with Deimos and Sanford exchanging glances every few seconds. The mercenary could feel anxiety bubbling in his chest yet kept that cool exterior on. It would soon be broken the minute they laid their fingers on his exposed torso, however, watching as Hank's eyes widened.

He honestly didn't know how to react. Whatever they were doing to him was definitely working, as he felt the electric-like sensations shoot through all of his nerves. Hank struggled to keep it together, only barely keeping a straight face as they writhed in Doc's grasp. "W-What.. t-thehehe hell?" Hank choked out, accidentally letting out a soft giggle.

The other two only grinned wider, applying more pressure to the spots they were focusing on. Deimos was applying pressure to the mercenary's ribs, focusing on drilling his slim fingers into the sensitive bone. Sanford had dropped a little lower, focusing on the other's legs, squeezing his kneecaps with just enough force. All the while they did this, they were talking back and forth, teasing the poor man out of his mind.

"Y'know, for Nevada's Most Wanted, I didn't think you'd be this ticklish. It feels kind of... hm, out of character?" Deimos muttered, his nails scraping against the cloth. Hank let out an honest-to-God squeal, throwing their head back as loud, gruff cackles rang out into the area. "W-WhahahaHAHA-! S-StohohoHOHOP! D-Dohohoc, lehehEHEheT MEHEHE GOHOHO!" Hank tried to struggle out of his grip, but with the sensations and Doc's brute strength, they were too weak to do anything.

"It does feel out of character, Deimos. To be so unbearably ticklish like this. Hey, they might be worse than you," Sanford chuckled, nudging the other in the side. Deimos only grumbled as he huffed, continuing to dig deep into the other's ribs, slowly lowering down to his toned belly. Hank couldn't even think straight - the only thing on his mind was getting away from these tickly sensations, the feeling driving him absolutely mad. "AHAhahahAA- sTOHOHOHOP! I c-cAHAHAN'T!" Hank cackled out, shaking their head as the cloth around his mouth started to fall down.

"Aww, look at him," Doc muttered, their eyes lowering down to the other's cute noises and reactions. "I'm sure he just loves what you're doing to him~." Their teasing only made it tickle more, for whatever reason. Deimos and Sanford only continued on their torturous touches, making them jerk and squirm around in the other's arm. It wasn't long before the cloth on Hank's face fell down to his neck, and the cutest sight was seen before them.

Both Sanford and Deimos stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening and their faces turning a bright red as they saw Hank's face. Although he was missing the bottom part of his jaw, and it was replaced with metal casing, the smile that he had was ... a little pure for someone like him. They panted, trying to regain their breath as they felt the phantom sensations crawl up their nerves.

"W-What... ihihis it?" Hank let out another soft giggle, looking up with tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Everyone avoided eye contact, their whole faces bright red. It wasn't until Doc pointed the obvious out. "Your...uh, mask, Hank," they spoke softly as they stared at his beautiful, scarred face. His eyes widened as he pulled it back up, being released from the other's grasp.

"...if it makes you feel any better, you're really cute!" Deimos teased, as he watched the mercenary stand up suddenly. Sanford laughed a bit at that comment but didn't notice the sneaky look in Hank's eyes.

"Oh, you want to laugh, huh?" Hank muttered toward Sanford, rubbing at his sides softly. "I'll give you a good laugh."

Needless to say, Deimos and Sanford definitely got what they deserved. Doc could easily tell that Hank didn't mind the affection, considering none of them were legitimately killed yet, and the fact that he could've easily struggled out of that if he wanted. ... it wasn't like they were holding him that hard, anyways.