"Mr. Stark, I totally beat him!"

"Yeah, kid, you also could've gotten yourself killed."

"But I didn't!"

Tony sighs. Peter had snuck out and fought some villains without his permission. Tony had found out through a story on the news. Tony was worried sick about the boy, but it wasn't like he was going to admit it. Peter, of course, was never going to admit that he fell hard on the sidewalk, unable to catch himself with his webs before he hit the ground.

"Come on. Let me check you for injuries."

Peter begrudgingly decides to let Tony check him. As he worriedly checks for bruises and broken bones, his thumb slips and brushes over the kid's belly.

Peter yelped, before covering his mouth.

"What was that?" Tony asked, checking the area for a bruise or red mark. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, Mr. Stark, I'm okay, really! Okay, I'm not injured, so I can go now, right?"

"No, kid. What was that?" He brushed his finger over his belly again, this time on purpose, which made it worse. Peter let out a giggle.

That's when Tony figured it out.

"Oh. You're ticklish." Peter didn't miss the tiny smirk that crossed Tony's face.

"Mr. Stark, dohon't." Peter giggled, trying to cover his stomach with his shirt. He was already giggling with anticipation.

"I won't, I won't." Tony concedes. Peter didn't want to admit he felt a little disappointed.

Tony continued his physical exam, careful not to accidentally tickle him. Peter was fine, really. It's a bit of bruising, sure, but nothing dangerous. It was a good thing Tony had upgraded his suit the week prior to be a little thicker than before.

But, of course, Peter needed a punishment for being so deceitful and ending up in a situation where he could've gotten seriously hurt. So, Tony sighs.

"I suppose you're alright."

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Stark-"

"Wait." Tony stops him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer, lifting his shirt to expose his belly. "I thought I saw a scratch right here." He punctuated his words with a gentle scratch to his belly.

"Mr. Stark! There's no scratch!" Peter jumps, barely even registering when the older grabs his other wrist as well, now holding both in one hand.

"Are you sure? Maybe it was here on this side." He uses his free hand to squeeze at Peter's other side, illiciting some squirming and giggles.

"Mr. Stahark!" Peter giggles, half-heartedly pulling at his wrists.

"What is it, kid?"

"Stohohop!"

"Stop what?"

But Peter knew that trick, and just shook his head as he laughed. Tony smirked, only digging in deeper to his tummy.

"You could've gotten hurt." Tony reminds him.

"Buhuhut- I dihihidn't!"

"You did. You've got some bruises. And it could've been so much worse. Don't put yourself in a situation like that again. Do you hear me?"

Peter nods frantically, his knees buckling under him. As this happened, the boy slowly descended to the floor.

"Say it." Tony commands. But Peter felt like he could barely speak with all the laughter. Peter shook his head no. "No? Then I guess you don't understand. I'll have to keep tickling you until you do." Tony said with faux-sympathy.

"I- I dohoho! Mr. Stahahark!" Peter pleads before Tony moves up to tickle at his armpits. Despite being Spiderman, and despite that being a very exposed spot in his line of work, it was his most ticklish spot. Peter makes a noise best described as a squeal. "WAHAHAIT!"

"Why should I wait, Parker? You have to learn that these missions are dangerous. You have to be more careful." Tony clicks his tongue. Peter was getting desperate now, basically curled up in a ball on the floor.

"I-I'LL BE CAHAREFUL! MR. STAHAHARK! PLEHEHEASE!"

Tony looked over Peter's face. It was red and split wide with a smile. He loved to see Peter smiling, it was much better than him being sad. He didn't necessarily want to let this moment go, but he decided it was for the best. After all, he was probably lacking on oxygen, and probably needed some water after this encounter. So, he slowly removed his hands from Peter.

"You okay, kid?"

"Yeah..." Peter sighs out, sucking in breath like a man starved. He looked over at Tony. "I promise I'll be more careful."

"Good." Tony nodded, then offered a hand to help him up. "Come on. Let's go get you some water."

It was quiet in the living room. Too quiet, for it being Steve, Tony, and Bucky. Bucky was quiet, but that was normal. The other two, though, they were always arguing about something or another. Honestly, the way they argued, nobody was sure if they were friends or not.

"Bucky goes through the five stages of grief every time he's tickled." Steve says casually.

Bucky looks up from his book. He should leave. He should leave, now, before Steve decided to show Tony what he meant by that. He stood up, closing his book quietly.

"How do you mean?" Tony asked.

"I'll show you." Steve says, quite evilly for Captain America. Bucky immediately tried to run the other direction. Fortunately, being trained as a soldier - and then his years with HYDRA - had taught him to always search for an exit before a situation he'd need it.

Unfortunately, Steve was a super soldier, too.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Bucky demanded, shoving at Steve's shoulder. This was much different from when they were kids. Steve would probably crumple and die if he tried to pick Bucky up back then.

"Yes, yes, in a second." Steve brings Bucky back to the couch, dropping him down unceremoniously. Bucky's first thought was to scamper, but he was not quick enough before Steve sat on his upper legs. Their hands grappled, neither one wanting to give.

"Get off!"

"No, I gotta show Tony that you go through the five stages of grief when you're tickled!"

"I do not! Get off of me!"

"See, Tony? This is denial. The first stage."

"Oh, I see." Tony commented unhelpfully, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. Bucky sputtered, glancing over at Tony. Oh, that was how Steve was playing this.

Unfortunately, during his momentary distraction, Steve had gotten out of the grapple and immediately went to squeeze at his sides. Bucky's attention returned, and he grabbed at Steve's wrists, squeezing tight.

"NO! Steve!"

"Hm? What's up, Buck?"

"Stop this!"

"Stop what?"

"THIS!" Bucky wished he could do a grand gesture, pointing to all of his stupidity right now, but alas, holding onto the wrists was more important.

"What am I supposed to be stopping?" Steve teases.

"Rogers!" He growls, fighting back the giggles that were bubbling up in his chest. He is Bucky Barnes, for crying out loud! He was an assassin for 70 years! He does not giggle like a child! Steve shouldn't even feel comfortable tickling him, he's killed people!

That thought hits him. Steve is still, after all these years, after all the things he's done wrong, comfortable enough to tickle him. That meant something. It made him feel soft inside his chest.

"And now, he's moved on to anger. Stage 2." Steve explains to Tony.

"I see." The smaller man nods, watching carefully.

"I hate you." Bucky's tone was more like a threat, but Steve knew that he didn't actually hate him. It was Bucky, his best friend from before everything. Bucky could never hate Steve, not really.

"Mhm." Steve punished his words by instead digging his thumbs into his hips, doing those slow circles that drove him crazy.

"NOHO!" Bucky yelped, now holding on tight to the blondes wrists. "Steve! Steheheve, please!"

"Bargaining." Captain America smirks down at him. What an infuriating face.

Tony, across the room, just smiles and nods, watching the two get along so well. Or maybe Bucky would kill Steve after this. Guess he'll have to wait and see.

Bucky made a growling noise that was quickly covered up by helpless giggles. He just couldn't stop them from coming out. He tried to push Steve's hands away, squirming in place. He couldn't get very far, though, considering another super soldier just about as strong as him was sitting on his waist.

And then Steve moved his horrible fingers to his ribs.

"STEHEHEVE!" His squirming picked up tenfold, shoving and hitting at Steve's arms. He'd probably get bruises. Luckily, he heals pretty fast. "STOHOP, I'M GONNA DIE!"

"Oh, you're not gonna die. Stop being dramatic." Steve fondly rolls his eyes, then glances at Tony. "Depression stage."

Bucky hit the couch over and over again, getting a bit overwhelmed by the tickly sensations. Steve, having tickled him a million times before, recognized this. He moved to Bucky's sides, using much lighter tickles. His nails seemed to skim right over the fabric of Bucky's shirt. And Bucky's shirt did absolutely nothing to dull the sensation.

"Nohoho." Bucky's voice was definitely complaining.

"No? Do you want me to go back to your ribs, then? I could count them for you, make sure they're all there." Steve teased with that stupid, beautiful, comforting smirk plastered on his face.

"No!"

"I didn't think so. Just hold still, Buck. I've got you."

Bucky just giggled. That's all he could do, really. His hands held onto Steve's wrists, but they weren't doing much to help. His head tilted back, completely worn and unable to fight the tickly sensations anymore. He didn't even try to stop his laughter anymore.

"There you are." Steve coos. "Stage five, acceptance."

"Huh. He really did go through the five stages of grief." Tony says, watching the boys quietly from his seat. He was very curious. He had cataloged that Bucky seemed overprotective of his ribs. That must be his tickle spot. He wondered distantly what would happen if Tony ever tried to tickle him. More importantly, however, was that he wondered what Bucky would do in retaliation. Which he assumed would happen in the very near future to Steve.

"Yes, he does." Steve hums, taking his hands away from Bucky now. He is just smiling down at him fondly.

Bucky, meanwhile, was taking in deep breaths like he had been starved of air. Which he had been, thank you very much. That was such an experience. The adrenaline, the sparks of lightning up his spine, the stupid tingly sensation that he hated to admit, wasn't so bad, at least coming from Steve. He might gut someone else if they try.

"Steve." Bucky said in a low tone, carefully neutral. The usually happy Captain stiffened at the tone.

"I think I'm gonna go... fold the dishes." Steve quickly got off of Bucky and left the room.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, all his muscles burning in pain. He must've blacked out, he didn't even remember what had happened. He tried to stretch.

He was a little confused when he couldn't move his metal arm. He looked over and found it stuck underneath a hydraulic press. He grabs the table with his flesh arm, trying to pull away, using his flesh hand to push for leverage.

"Hey cap!"

He heard a voice call out. He looked up just in time to see Sam and Steve coming into the room. Bucky grabbed the table again, fighting against his pained muscles to pull his head up enough to see them.

"Steve."

But Steve crossed his arms. They couldn't trust him just yet. How did they know this wasn't Winter Soldier Bucky just pretending to be nice so he could escape the hydraulic press and start fighting again?

"I'll have to find out which Bucky I'm talking to."

Oh no, he thought as Steve approached him. Steve wouldn't hurt him. Right? This wasn't a HYDRA officer. This was Captain America. He watched warily as Steve knelt down in front of him.

Steve smiled that stupid, kind smile that always put everyone at ease, and then he grabbed onto Bucky's sides, squeezing.

Bucky gasped, grasping at Steve's wrist with the hand that could move. His metal arm tried to pull in, to protect himself, if out of instinct alone. But it was firmly stuck under the hydraulic press.

"Steve!" He hissed.

"What is it?" Bucky didn't know how to respond to that. He obviously couldn't admit that it tickled. That was well beneath him at this point.

"Steve!" The man just smiled, a little bit apologetically, a little bit evilly.

"Sorry. I have to make sure you're normal you and not Winter Soldier you."

"I am normal m-me!" Steve did that awful thing where he massaged his thumbs in circles, right in the dip of his hips. It felt like electric shocks right to his spine. It was so hard to save face when his body was telling him to smile and laugh and just overall act like a child.

"How can I be so sure?" Steve asked thoughtfully. "I'll need to run some more experiments. I want to be certain." He pressed his fingers deeper, smiling fondly when Bucky doubled forward, sputtering out a laugh.

"Steheheve!" He'd complain, but the man would only chuckle at him. But Steve would soon get bored of his hips. He never did stick to one spot, even when they were younger, even before Bucky got drafted for the army, before everything.

And then moved up his sides, right to his ribs. His worst spot.

"Wait!" Bucky would try to twist away, trying to maneuver himself in a way where he could either get his arm unstuck or at least make it help cover that horrible, dreadful spot that made his nerves light up and put a smile on his face without even trying.

Steve smiled at Bucky's squirming, scritching gently right below where the metal connected on his left ribs and all over his right ribs. "Still a bad spot, hm?"

"God- wahAHAIT! STEHEHEVE!" Bucky tried to curl up, trying to fend him off with his free hand, that was feeling uncharacteristically weak at the moment.

"Aww, look at you." Steve coos. Bucky tries standing up quickly, trying to move away from the sensation. Steve decided Bucky was probably done, and dropped his hands. "Y'know, Sam, I think he's normal Bucky right now."

"He would've probably strangled you if he wasn't." Sam nods.

Bucky slumps down again, barely even realizing that Steve was freeing his metal arm. "Thanks."

"Steve. No."

Bucky used that intimidating voice. The same kind he'd use with anyone that messed with Steve way back when. The voice that got all the self-righteous jerks to stop punching the asthmatic little punk who always stood up for what's right, even if it wasn't in his best interest.

Steve, on the other hand, was not intimidated. Maybe, once upon a time, he would've been, if that voice was ever used on him. But now they're equals. They're both super soldiers. Steve was on equal footing with Bucky now.

"What was that, Buck?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Steve didn't believe him, not one bit. Once upon a time, Steve lost every tickle fight. Once upon a time, Steve wasn't strong enough to overpower Sargeant James Barnes. Now, though, was different.

Bucky moved back, mirroring as Steve moved forward.

"Scared?"

"Of you? Never."

That's when Steve moved to get him on the floor. He would sweep Bucky's ankles quickly; the other would fall on his right side, using his metal arm to keep Steve away from him, who would grab that arm and wrench it away. Bucky would shift, so he could use his flesh arm to grab Steve's free wrist, trying to flip him over.

But Steve was never one to play nice. So he quickly let go of Bucky's metal arm and latched onto the ribs just under the attachment site.

Unfortunately, HYDRA hasn't quite figured out how to train reflexes out of their soldiers yet. So Bucky was stuck now, half curled up, grasping at Steve's hand as he tries to fight his own laughter while trying to push the offending hand away.

Steve only smiled as now his other hand was free to tickle Bucky's other side as well. His arms just snapped down as he threw his head back.

"STEVE- WAhahait!" He closed his eyes tight as embarrassing giggles started to slip. Steve threw his leg over Bucky's hips, keeping him pinned in place.

"Hm... I'll think about it." He teased. Bucky used that exact phrase way back when they had tickle fights. Before the Avengers, before HYDRA, before the super soldier serum, back when things were simple.

"Fuck ohohoff!"

"Well, now you're never getting out of this." Steve's tone was monotonous, but the smirk on his face told a different story. That he was a bit fond, a bit nostalgic, and a lot playful. He turned his hands in, pressing the tips of his fingers into the spaces between his ribs on his left, and just into the muscles of his side on his right. Then, he vibrated his hands as much as they'd go.

"STEHEHEVE!" Bucky screamed, unable to help keep his legs from kicking anymore.

Steve chuckled, not wanting to wear out his friend too badly. They were only playing, after all. He didn't want to go too far. So, he pulled his hands away, patting Bucky's shoulder gently.

"You alright?" Steve got a little nervous when his wrist was grabbed by Bucky's metal hand. And then he saw the smile.

"I'm alright. Will you be?"

"Bucky-" But he was already flipped, pinned down under the Winter Soldier. "We can talk about this."