#rtc tickle

“You’re lying, Noel.”

Ocean crossed her arms, staring down the dramatic teen. She wasn't going to listen to those lies, especially when they were…well, wherever they’d ended up after the carnival accident. Karnak wasn’t telling them.

“So what if I am? You hardly have any right to know the truth, Miss Human-Pyramid.” Noel scoffed, refusing to look at her.

The group had found themselves a peaceful moment to relax and think in the purgatory-adjacent space they were in. Naturally, Noel and Ocean decided to fight during it.

“That was one time!” she scoffed, crossing her arms indignantly. Sure, she’d said some…unsavory things about her fellow choir members, but he didn’t have to keep bringing it up. “And at least that was honest! I know you’re lying.”

It was Noel’s turn to scoff then, his hands moving to rest on his hips. “Am not! I owned a genuine french cigarette holder, and I’ve used it before!”

“Sure you did, hungry hombre.”

The mention of his honorary taco meal made Noel see red. Pulling out his most sassy, vile mindset, the boy delivered his comback. “Well, at least I’m likable. I bet you can’t think of one person in your life who’s payed real attention to you. Even your parents don’t notice you.”

Ocean gasped, clutching her imaginary pearls. It hadn’t been a deeply upsetting blow—the truly influential aren’t always likable, after all—but he’d definitely struck a chord. That deserved some payback.

With a small glare, Ocean stepped silently toward Noel. That was the most terrifying part: her not speaking. It was rare for that girl to be quiet, even more so when she was upset.

“Why are you doing that? It’s creepy,” he huffed, taking a few steps back. Ocean didn’t faulter, still walking right at him. “Hey, back off, you— GYAH!”

Noel’s entire body jolted as Ocean poked his side. It was a quick little jab—nothing painful or intense—but enough to let him know of her plans. “No! No, Ocean, don’t you dare!”

“Oh, I dare.”

Before Noel could run, the girl lunged at him. It was rare to see Ocean truly act her age, but she used every ounce of strength she had to wrestle the cursing, shrieking boy to the gound. They ended up sitting on the floor, Noel trapped with his back pressed against Ocean’s chest.

Noel kicked and shoved at Ocean’s arms, feeling her hands rest upon his sides. They were still for the moment, but he knew exactly what was coming. “Get off of me!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” she grinned, resting her head on his shoulder. It was partly to avoid being headbutted, yes, but it was also to tease him. “Unless you admit that you’re a dirty liar and that you never owned a French cigarette holder.”

“How dare you?!” he exclaimed, trying to elbow her. Ocean caught it easily, making him grunt in frustration. “I’d rather die!”

“Fine.”

Noel jumped as her nimble fingers started to slowly move, gently scribbling on his sides. They weren’t his most ticklish spot, but they were definitley sensitive. He felt his nerves light up with the foreign sensation. “Youhuhuhu ahahahasshohole!”

“Language, Noel!” Ocean gasped, giving each of his sides a quick squeeze to emphasize the point. It was surprisingly fun to hear him laugh like that.

“GAH! Fuhuhuck! Fuhuhuck youhuhu!”

Noel’s laugh was high-pitched and whiny, making his cheeks burn. He hated laughing like that, the way it made him sound. He didn’t mind his more effeminate voice, but he did mind how ridiculous his natural laughter made him sound.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like this,” she mused, moving one hand to poke around near his navel. It was definitely different to hear him sound that way, but…it was kinda cute, in a “goofy brother” way.

Noel’s blush intensified at her acknowledgement, feeling embarasment grow in his chest. He though she was mocking his laugh. “Shuhuhut ihit!”

Ocean shrugged, grinning as she noticed his blush. “What? It’s a cute laugh, Noel. Why can’t I point it out?”

“B-behecause dohohohon’t!”

“Hm…I think I will.”

With a smug grin, Ocean’s hands shot up to the boy’s underarms, wiggling away into the soft, sensitive skin. He’d been clamping his arms down, so she figured they had to be a bad spot.

And boy, was she right.

“NOHOHOHO!” Noel screeched, kicking and writhing under her touch. It was so ticklish; he hadn’t been tickled there in ages, and he wasn’t prepared for how intense the feeling would be. “FUHUHUCK! OHOCEAHAN!”

“Hm? Need something, liar?” she hummed, resting her head upon his shoulder once again. It was too fun to tease him.

“NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

Ocean commented, “Not there, interesting.” Her evil little fingers were still teasing his armpits, arms crossed on his chest to keep him from running. “You know you can end this by telling the truth, right? It’s really easy. Or we can just listen to this laugh all day.”

Noel shook his head rapidly, smacking at Ocean’s arms. “NOHOHO!”

He didn’t want to surrender to Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg of all people, but she had him in a tight spot. He couldn’t get away, her touches tickled, and none of the other choir members were nearby to help him.

Well, shit.

“F-FIHIHIHINE!” Noel gasped through his laughter, tapping out against Ocean’s thigh. “IHI LIHIHIED!”

With a shit-eating grin, Ocean removed her hands from his pits and moved to his sides. “Oh, you did, huh? And what’s the truth?”

He was giggling his ass off at that point, squeaking out words through the mess of mirth. “I-Ihihihi mahade ohohone frohom ahaha strahaw and smohoked tohohoilet pahaper throhohough ihit…”

Ocean blinked a few times before eventually stopping her tickles, processing that. It was not smart to smoke paper items, but…everyone has their idiosyncracies, and Noel’s weren’t that bad compared to a serial killer.

“Was that so hard?”

“Y-yehehes, you witch,” he grumbled, leaning back against Ocean as he tried to recover. He hated to admit it, but she was decently comfortable.

Ocean narrowed her eyes at his little jab, responding with a physical one to his side. The squeak she got out of him was satisfying. “Watch it, lover boy.”

“Fuhuck you…”

“I knew you were lying. I’m talented with detecting lies, you know. I took a class about it online, and I passed with flying colors.”

“Ugh, of course you did…” Noel grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He could already tell it was a wreck. “Mind combing through this while you’re back there, since you messed it up?”

“Sure. I actually learned how to style hair from one of my mom’s friends. She’s a cosmetoligist…”

Noel zoned out as she continued to ramble, tilting his head back. Same old Ocean…

Though she had complimented his laugh. Maybe there was a decent human—maybe even a friend—to be made out of her yet. He’d explore it, if he had the time.

For as long as Constance knew her, Ocean was an overachiever.

Always the first one to turn in perfectly written essays and homework, always the one to join in an extra club if it meant upping her chances of getting into a good college (even if Constance isn't sure her GPA could get any higher if she tried) and she's always the first to offer to tutor any of her fellow choir members, which Constance is beyond appreciative of.

But along with being an overachiever, it also comes with being insanely stubborn.

Constance isn't stupid, she notices the way Ocean starts slouching halfway through a conversation; how her hair isn't perfectly straight like usual, it being messy as if Ocean just rolled out of bed; and, of course, the bags steadily growing under her eyes.

Safe to say, Constance was worried.

Today, Ocean decided that she wants to study with Constance in the Blackwood house. And who is she to deny her that request? Especially since she has been really struggling with a particularly difficult math question and hopefully talk some sense into her.

If she's lucky.

"And then if you just add the two, it should match up." Ocean tells her, barely looking up from her own textbook, which is history. Her ability to multitask always astonishes Constance.

Constance does so, and to no one's surprise it comes out correct. She smiles, having felt like a weight being lifted off her shoulders after spending hours grueling over this singular question.

"Huh, thanks, Ocean! You're the best!" Constance exclaims in hopes of getting an Ocean-like reaction out of her. Which, she still means it, Ocean has put a lot of effort into bettering herself after the accident, personally apologizing to each of the choir members and just not being a huge asshole anymore.

But instead of giving a prideful grin and going "I know", she doesn't respond, eyes still glued to the textbook.

Constance frowns, concerned. "Ocean?"

After a couple seconds, her best friend still pays her no mind. She is drawn to that book like it has all of the secrets of the universe.

"Oce?" She tries again, this time poking her in the ribs.

Just as she predicted, Ocean lets out a loud yelp and jumps a good five feet into the air, face full of panic and a pinkish hue.

Fortunately for her, Constance is too worried to point out her sudden jumpiness.

"Constance!" Ocean half-squeaks and half-whines. "Don't do that! You scares me!"

"I scared you?" Constance asks incredulously. "You scared me! It looked like that book was brainwashing you or something! I didn't have a choice!"

Ocean hesitates, glancing between her and the textbook in her lap. She lets out a sheepish, "oh."

"Are you okay?" Constance asks the dreaded question she's been meaning to for weeks now. "You look a bit… tired. And distracted." Is what she ends up saying, because anything else might be a bit too truthful for Ocean's taste.

Ocean crosses her arms. "Distracted? I'm distracted by only the most interesting historical figures in Canadian history!"

"… Uh-huh." Is all Constance says. "Look, how about we take a break and—?"

"No!" Ocean blurts out, before promptly covering her mouth. They both stare at each other before she slowly lowers her hands, smiling tensely. "I mean, no thank you. There's already so much I have to get done. After history, I still gotta study for English, because Noel cannot get a higher grade than me again. And I have a student council meeting tomorrow so I can't study during that, and then we have choir rehearsal, and— CONSTANCE!"

Having had enough of her anxious ramblings, Constance decides that instead of poking her in the ribs, she wiggled a finger between Ocean's two top ribs, which she correctly remembered as being a bad tickle spot for her.

Constance can't help but giggle as she sees Ocean wrap herself in a tight hug that could rival Penny's or Mischa's. She pulls her knees up to her chest and glares at Constance, her face transitioning from light pink to a dark red in an instant.

Maybe Constance shouldn't do what she's about to do, maybe she should just give up and let Ocean have her stubborn way. But this is a method that will usually work, it just might take awhile. But that's fine, she just doesn't want to see her best friend work herself to death. Is that so wrong?

She holds up her hands and forms them into claws.

Just as expected, Ocean's eyes grow comically wide, and if she wasn't hugging herself hard before, she definitely is now.

"Constance, don't you dare." She warns, backing away slowly, as if Constance was some kind of predator.

"Oh, I dare." Is all she says before she pounces. Ocean barely has time to fight back before being scooped up and brought to Constance's bed. As soon as she's tossed onto the mattress, she gets to work skittering all over her belly.

"H-hehehehey!" Ocean instantly bursts out into giggles, giving her legs little kicks. "Connihihihie!"

The Connie in question can't help but melt a little at how cute Ocean looks. Is this were pre-Accident, Constance probably would've been too scared and hesitant to do something like this.

As soon as they hit middle school, Ocean suddenly became allergic to anything deamed as childish. Which means that they, regrettably, had to put a stop to their tickle fights. She's also pretty sure that Ocean wanted to put a stop to them because there's a high chance that she just may be the most ticklish person ever.

That isn't an exaggeration, either. One time Noel lightly elbowed her in the side to get her attention, only to immediately get karate chopped in the nose.

"Still as ticklish as ever, huh?" Constance asks fondly, continue scritching and scribbling on Ocean's poor stomach.

"Shhhhhhuuuush!" Ocean managed to groan, blush promptly spreading toward her ears and down her neck. She's so red that Constance can barely make out the freckles that are scattered across her face. In fact, she notices that Ocean is the same shade as her hair currently.

"I mean, even the way you blush whenever you're tickled hasn't changed—"

"COHOHNSTANCE!" Ocean shrieks, and Constance couldn't help but laugh along. It truly is an adorable sight to see preppy, stubborm, and fiery Ocean fall apart with just some tickling and teasing.

Once she sees Ocean cover her face with her hands, she offers a compromise. "How about this? If you agree to take a break, I'll stop." She decides to take pity on her and not say the 't' word that she can't stand hearing. She doesn't want her face to melt off after all.

"Nohohoho!"

"Fine. Have it your way." Constance shrugs, scaling her fingers over to Ocean's sides, causing the ginger to squeal loudly and flail around, attempting to grasp at her hands. Unfortunately for Ocean, she has already been weakened quite a bit by the tickly torment, so she's basically trapped.

"CohohOHOHONSTAHAhahance!" She exclaims in her squeaky laughter that Constance missed oh-so much. "Cuhuhut ihit ohoHUHUT!"

"Not until you take a break!" She says over the laughter.

"IhIhIhI cahahahahan't!" Ocean responds before yelping once Constance darts her hands into her armpits. Ocean clamps her arms down, trapping her hands.

The reaction is immediate, before Ocean has the chance to stop it. The noise that reaches Constance's ears is undeniably. A snort. Several.

"Oh. My. Gosh." Constance says with a grin. Ocean simply lets out an embarrassed whine. "You still snort?"

"Noho- *snort* -hohoho!" Is her response. Since Ocean's arms are pinned down to her sides at the moment, she opts for turning her head and burying part of her face in the sheets. Her face has gotten so red Constance swears it's glowing a little bit.

"Aw, don't be embarrassed. It's cute!" Constance says, beaming down at the redhead.

"No- *snort* -hohoho, ihihihit's nahahaHAHAHAT! COHO- *snort*- HOHON! COHOHON! COHOHO- *snort* HONNIHIHIE, PLEHEHEHEHAHAHASE!" As soon as Constance started pinching and wiggling at Ocean's ribs, she knew it would be an immediate win for her. She was just giving Ocean a chance before it came to this.

As Ocean is currently freaking out (even though it's pretty obvious she doesn't mind because she hasn't been told to stop yet) Constace continues to calmly scratch at her upper ribs, simply waiting.

"OHOHOKAHA- *snort* -HAHAHAY! OHOHOKAHAHAY! I'LL—IHIHI'LL *snort* I'LL TAHAHAKE AHAHA *snort snort* BREHEHEHAHAHAK! JUST PLEHEHEHAHAHASE!"

Constance immediately lets go of the writhing ginger, allowing her to catch her breath. She has to suppress a laugh of her own because the first thing Ocean does is grab a pillow and bury her face in it, letting out a muffled groan.

The shorter of the two scooches over beside Ocean, and rubs her back. At first, she stiffens, probably anticipating another attack, but when that doesn't happen, she allows herself to melt under the touch, but not without glaring at Constance. Well, not really a glare, more like a pout.

"Hey, just be glad I didn't go for your knees." As soon as those words leave her mouth, a pillow is swatted at her. She can't help but giggle. "So, you actually going to take a break?"

Begrudgingly, Ocean nods. "Fine. I guess I will. But only fifteen minutes! Nothing more!" She points at Constance.

##########################

After Ocean decided to bring Penny back to life, and since Karnack’s inevitable death, the choir was now stuck in this warehouse together. They finally learned how to be civil, especially knowing that they couldn’t exactly leave. 

Mischa and Noel have especially gotten to know each other. They would often be seen going off with each other, probably to drink or to just sit and talk. 

Today, it was a mix of both. They have both had a few sips from the vodka bottle that Mischa had on. Noel would always wonder where he got it from, and why it was always full, but he would keep that to himself as he thought it would just be one of the many wonders of death and the unknown as they sat down on a long bench-like box. 

It hadn’t been long, and the pair were already tipsy, Mischa more so than Noel. “I have a question for you, Noel Gruber.” the Ukrainian man said, passing the bottle to the other.

“I thought I told you that you can just call me Noel,” the poet said, taking the bottle, putting it to his lips while he spoke, “but ask away.”

“If you have never kissed a man, how do you kiss so well?” 

Noel nearly spat out the alcohol at the question. “Wh-What?” he said, cleaning his mouth after he swallowed the drink, “I was not expecting that.” Mischa was usually blunt, but this was totally out of the blue.

The Ukrainian didn’t say anything as he grabbed the bottle as he motioned for Noel to answer before taking another drink. 

“I-I don’t know… I… saw it on TV?” Noel chuckled at his own awkwardness, “I mean, there’s a lot of kissing in The Blue Angel, so I guess I just picked up pointers?”

Mischa gave a hum of approval as he took a sip. “You… also were a good kisser.” Noel managed to say, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

“Thank you,” Mischa smiled, then put the bottle down, “Are you ticklish?”

The Poet’s eyes widened in shock of the question. Where did that come from? “W-What was that?” He said, thinking he misheard the question.

“Are you ticklish.” 

Noel flushed a little more as the question was repeated. “I-I mean… yeah, a little? But why?”

Mischa shrugged and scooted closer to Noel. “I was just curious. You seem like you would be.” 

“I- What does that even- MEAN-?” Noel yelped at the poke to his side. Mischa’s smile formed into more of a smirk, and Noel did not like it. “Mischa, dohon’t!”

“I’m a curious guy, Noel Gruber. Surly you understand.” Mischa tried to hide his enjoyment, but it was obvious he was happy to make his friend a mess. He reached his hand around Noel’s back to taze both sides at once. He smiled again when the latter’s arms shot to protect his sides, pushing on Mischa’s hands. But Mischa didn’t stop at just one poke, he began to prod and squeeze the smaller’s sides with purpose.

“NOHohoho you’re nohoHOHOT! Yohohou’re juhust mehehehehean! Gohohod- Lehehet up!” Noel threw his head back with stronger laughter when Mischa moved to his ribs. 

The Ukrainian chuckled at the new reaction. “Dude, you are so ticklish!” Noel settled with pushing at Mischa’s chest, trying to get away as his face burned a brighter shade of red. 

Mischa was always stronger than him, and Noel knew that. He quickly weighed out the pros and cons, as he decided that the only way to get out of this was to fight back. Once he decided there were WAY more pros, he moved his hands from Mischa’s chest to his underarms. Mischa let out a strained noise and immediately glued his hands to his sides, unintentionally trapping Noel’s hands. 

Now it was Noel’s turn to smirk. “What’s this? Mischa Bachinski, are you-”

“No!”

“Ticklish?” Noel couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice as he quickly dug unto Mischa’s underarms. The Ukrainian man’s cheeks puffed out as a wobbly smile took over his features. “This is so cute! Mischa~!” Noel dragged out the name, noticing that the teasing tone brought the slightest blush to his cheeks, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Why would I… tehe- tell you this?” Mischa stammered out, trying to ignore Noel’s hands tickling his armpits.

Noel reached to Mischa’s hips. He smiled when Mischa made another strained sound. “S-Stohop!” the latter giggled, still trying to hide them.

“Oh? Are you giggling?” Noel asked, keeping his teasy tone as he continued to squeeze Mischa’s hips, “Come on~ don’t hide your giggles from me! They’re so endearing! Please, Mischa? I wanna hear them! Let your giggles be free! Or I'll have to tickle them outta you~!” 

That's it. The dam finally broke, and breathy giggles slowly started to pour out of the rapper’s mouth. “Nohoel! Dohohon’t! Stoho- Stohop it!” He shook his head, the tickles and the teasing quickly tearing down his nonchalant manner.

“You’re asking me not to stop? Well if you insist!” Noel, fuelled by the reaction, moved one hand to lightly tickle Mischa’s stomach while still squeezing his hip, "you seem to be enjoying yourself? Is that right?"

Mischa couldn't be faster to shake his head, "Dohohohon't behe ihihidihihihiohohohot! Ohohof cohohohourse nohohohot!" Despite his "very convincing" response, Noel still "aw"ed a lot louder than necessary, Mischa thought, and continued to scribble his blunt nails along the rapper's belly.

"What's wrong, Mischa? The "Angriest Boy in Town" dissolves into a giggly mess when his tummy gets tickled?" Noel giggled to himself, knowing he was being a lot more mean than either of them anticipated. But neither was complaining.

However, the comment did make Mischa snort and lean back to get away from the words, and the tickly touches. However, he leaned so far back that he fell off of the box they were sitting on. And due to Mischa’s tipsy state (and the lingering tingles from the previous attack), he started giggling like a mad man, borderline hysterical as he held his midsection at how hard he was laughing. Noel giggled along with his friend, the alcohol obviously getting to his head as well. That plus the silliness of the situation, and hearing Mischa’s contagious, yet rare laughter just made him wanna laugh.

“Ahahare- are you ohokahay?” Noel asked with genuine concern, offering his hand. Mischa smiled and grabbed his hand, but instead of getting up, he pulled Noel down too. The latter yelped as he fell, now lying horizontally across Mischa’s middle. Mischa wasted no time by roughly digging his fingers into Noel’s back. 

Noel shrieked and arched his back. “Whahahat thehe hehehell? Ahagain?! I thohohought yohohou gohohohohot mehehehe ahahalreheady-ehehe!” in an attempt to hide his face, he nuzzled Mischa's sides. Said man made yet another strained noise – now more like a giggle. He felt the vibrations from Noel’s laughter buzzing throughout his sides, and fuck that tickled so much. But still continued the movements on Noel’s back. 

The poet’s laughter grew as Mischa now discovered his shoulder blades and began squeezing them. He continued to shake his head into the larger man’s sides, unintentionally sending the vibrations of his laughter all throughout Mischa's sides, and now ribs. When he started again, Mischa paused the movement of his hands and threw his head back in full belly laughter. “HAHahaha! Nohohoel! Gehehet ohohOHOHOUT! NOHOHEL STOHOHOHOP!” 

Noel only meant to do the action as a way to hide his face, but the reaction sparked an evil glint in his eyes. “Ahare yohohour sihihihides yohohour wohohorst?!” Noel wondered out loud, "Ahahahare thehehey yohohour tihihickle spohoHOHOT- WAHAHAHAIT MISCHAAAHAHAHA!"

Before he could act on his observation, he felt squeezing where his neck and shoulders meet. He squealed and shot his shoulders to his ears, causing his head to lift from Mischa’s sides. 

Said Ukrainian smiled and continued to squeeze that part of his neck, loving how Noel’s laughter spiked up. “What’s wrong Noel? Is this spot ticklish?” He asked bluntly. Despite not knowing how to tease, the question still brought a bright red colour to Noel’s cheeks, now moving to his ears as he told Mischa a laughter-filled “shut up!”.

He decided to follow Noel’s blush and wiggle one finger all around his ears, with no noticeable pattern. Noel’s laughter spiked as he realized how helpless he was, and how flustering this situation was. “OHohokay! I gihihiHIHIVE! I GIHIHIVE!” Noel giggled out the verbal white flag as he smacked the floor. Mischa retracted his hands and laid them over his chest. 

The two of them just laid there for a few seconds, tired and gulping in fresh air. Noel brought up his hands to rub the tingles out of his ears. “Jesus Chrihist, yohou’re ruthlehehess.” Noel said as he got off of his friend, leaning his back against the box so that he was facing him. 

“I’m ruthless?” Mischa said as he propped himself up on his elbows, the disbelif in his voice making Noel giggle more, “did you hear what you were saying to me?! That was totally not fair!” 

“You mean when I was teasing you?”

“Yes! That!” Mischa leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, “once again, you kill me with your words, Noel Gruber.” 

Mischa yelled out when Noel gave him a quick scribble to the stomach, “Thank you, but I told you, you just need to call me Noel!”

“Ohokay, okay! Stohohop!” Mischa shrieked when Noel briefly went over his sides. He brought one hand down to take Noel’s hand off of his midsection, “NOHOho mohohHOHOHOhore!”

Noel smiled and held Mischa’s hand, “no more. But I really need to try out that spot one of these days.”

Mischa glared at Noel, but his nervous smile gave away that there was no real malice behind it. "Yeah, do that, and I go for your neck. You were very ticklish there."