Or We Could Just Be Quiet And Do Nothing
SFW tickle fic
3,457 words
Fandom: Team Fortress 2
Ships: none explicitly stated but Red Oktoberfest (Heavy x Medic) implied so heavily it barely counts as mere implying; Soldier & Demo and Engie & Pyro can be read either platonically or as Boots 'n' Bombs and Texas Toast respectively
Tags/warnings: non-binary Pyro with they/them pronouns; Demoâs excess alcohol consumption is discussed but only in a lighthearted way and played entirely for laughs
Summary: Scout is an annoying loud prick and accidentally starts a tickle fight. Chaos escalates as every merc gets dragged in, did they want it or not.
A/N: This fic is entirely based on this alignment chart I made in my older Tumblr; it seems to be quite well liked and honestly I still like it too. Thatâs the plot, thatâs the fic. This was actually a pretty fun exercise on writing a comedic scene of endlessly escalating chaos.I donât know who in the fandom headcanoned first that 1) Medic takes a little too much enjoyment out of ahem, checking for broken ribs as a totally normal examination routine, 2) Spy has a ticklish neck and 3) being tickled brings out his snort laugh in the most magnificent way possible⊠but I buy it all and run with it.
The RED base was fairly serene. It was Sunday evening, which meant the next morning would be the start of a new work week: that is, another five-day string of grueling war that killed your back and drained your energy so that after work nobody had interest in doing anything except eat and hit the bunk. Maybe that was all the more reason almost everyone wanted to make the most out of these final hours of quiet relaxation.
âFor the last time, private, stop pestering your superior officer! Save your energy for the battlefield tomorrow!â
âBut Iâm full of energy right now! Come on man, fight me!â
Demo groaned. All he had wanted was a peaceful moment to chat with his best friend â Soldier apparently wanted to tell a fascinating true story involving grenades â but that chance probably was lost and not coming back this evening. Scout had lived the entire weekend on junk food and Bonk, which meant he was overloaded with caffeine, sugar and excess confidence he could beat Soldier in one-on-one melee combat. Since lunch he had been demanding for a wrestling match, much to everyoneâs annoyance in the base common room: in addition to Soldier and Demo who were seated at the dining table, Engineer had spread his tools on the floor in an empty corner, focused on tinkering with Gunslingerâs adjustments, while Heavy and Medic were reading a newspaper together on the couch near the kitchen entrance, Heavy practicing his English comprehension and Medic occasionally translating him a word or two in Russian or German.
After enduring Scoutâs yapping a little longer, Soldier finally had had enough.
âYou want a fight, son? You get a fight! Get up and letâs get this over with!â
Scout let out a cheer and faced Soldier with a wide-legged stance.
âOh yeah! Come at me â three, two, one, goââ
Soldier lunged forward grapping Scoutâs both hands while hooking one leg around his, then throwing him backwards sending Scout to unbalance and fall. Instantly after that he lifted him from the floor and threw him over his shoulder effortlessly.
âWhoa whoa whoa! Dude, you tripped me! That was definitely against the rules!â
Everyone spectating the match laughed. Nobody even tried to mask their Schadenfreude over Scout getting tossed like pizza dough.
After throwing him around and over a few times Soldier finally pinned Scout against the wall. He was holding him off the ground by the upper arms, pressing close to him menacingly.
âAre you still willing to keep fighting? Or do I have to suplex you again?â
âDo it, lad! Suplex, suplex, suplexââ Demoman rallied everyone into joining the chant.
âOn threeââ
Scout struggled, trying to push Soldierâs arms off. Due to his position he couldnât even reach them well enough to get a good grip.
âOn twoââ
His awkward hovering position didnât do any good for his kicks either: he just couldnât get enough strength into them.
âOn oneââ
Scout knew his final option to break free wasnât going to be good by any means but as if there were any other choices.
Just as Soldier prepared to toss him again Scout jabbed his hands into Soldierâs armpits and wiggled his fingers there rapidly.
âWhaâheyahah! Quit it!â
The tickling weakened Soldierâs grasp and caused him to recoil enough to free Scout who immediately bolted towards the teleporter at the other end of the room. Staying here wouldnât be safe for him now.
âGet back here, coward! That was not honorable fighting!â
âKa-BOOM!â
Just like Scout had thought, Soldier gave chase immediately. What he hadnât anticipated was Demoman use a couple of stickybombs to launch himself across the room (âNo detonating bombs indoors!â Medic complained) and land perfectly to tackle Scout onto the floor just as he was about to make his escape. Soldier followed in Demoâs footsteps, crouching next to Scout with a menacing grin.
âSon, what you just did was punishable offense.â Soldier sat down on top of Scoutâs right thigh and grabbed his right wrist, pinning the arm stretched out.
âAnd you disturbed our private conversation. That was pretty annoyingâ, Demo said locking Scoutâs other arm and leg down in a similar manner. Scout could only stare at the two nervously.
âOh come on guys, I fully admit my defeat, youâyou can let me go now!â
âNah! If you were so interested in what we were talkingâ, Demo flashed a mischievous grin, âwhy donât you stay put and keep listening!â Both he and Soldier dropped their free hands onto Scoutâs stomach and began to claw, scratch and pinch all over while Scout erupted in boisterous laughter.
âGahhaha! Gahahais, knock it ohohoff!â
âSo anywayâ, Demoman turned to Soldier, raising his voice to make it carry over Scoutâs laughter, âyou were saying you once got to use some sorta mineral-based grenades?â
âAffirmative!â Soldier replied, tickling Scout all the while he talked. âThey were hard as rock so even without pulling the pin they did some good damage when thrown on enemiesâ skullsââ
âYou guys ahahare lame! Who the hehehell wants to discuss that crahahap?!â
âTarget the sides of his ribs!â Medic shouted from the couch where he and Heavy had followed the scene unfold. âHe cannot stand when I do him a checkup for broken bones!â
Both Demo and Soldier took the advice instantly and indeed, tazing between the ribs earned them a satisfying screech and an even more violently thrashing Scout.
âEHAHAAK! -snort- NOT THEHERE!â
âAch, same as everyone elseâ, Medic said. âI even consider if I should tie certain patients up during the abdomen examination.â
âSometimes I suspect you actually tickle them on purposeâ, Heavy noted.
âWell, I cannot control how the human body works â most people just are ticklish on there! And how else can I be sure nobody is walking around with broken ribs?â
âAlright then. But then tell me, doctor, when was the last time somebody checked up yoursâ, Heavy chuckled suddenly pulling Medic into a bear hug and wiggling his fingers into his stomach and sides. Medic squealed and squirmed.
âEehehoho! Misha!â He retaliated quickly with a scribble under Heavyâs chin who stifled a chortle and exploited the opening in Medicâs upraised arm â striking a precise attack in the armpit. Medicâs giggles rose into a loud falsetto as he clamped the arm back down, although it hardly helped his predicament as he effectively locked Heavyâs hand into the sensitive spot.
All the ruckus drowned the gentle whirr of the teleporter as Pyro appeared from it. Most of their weekend had gone into a new crafting project for which they had picked up the idea from Engineerâs architecture magazines; Engie had even helped here or there with the construction. The result was an honestly impressive replica of the Statue Of Liberty, glued together out of matches with the crown and torch made of scrap metal and the torchâs fire lit. Assumably Pyro had come to present Engineer their finished project but by how they looked around at the ongoing tickle fight and made delighted noises, they seemed to forget their initial objective in a heartbeat.
Pyro swung the Matchstick Sculpture Of Liberty off their hands and skipped over to join Medic and Heavyâs playful duel. They jumped onto the couch trying to wiggle themself between the other two and spidered their hands over Heavyâs midsection. The revenge was imminent from both sides: aside from a short surprised guffaw and a small flinch, Heavy recomposed himself quickly and struck back at Pyro with a coordinated co-op attack with Medic.
âNu-uh, little arsonist! This big man is mine!â Medic taunted as Pyro curled into a ball and giggled behind their mask. Both let them up and shooed them off the couch. âWhy donât you go play with Engineer!â
Ever since Scout had first struck at Soldier Engineer had retreated deeper into the bare corner he was in and remained quiet in hopes nobody would even remember he was there. He had anticipated his peace might become threatened the moment Pyro had first arrived but now it was inevitable â those bug eyes that perpetually gave the impression of an excited puppy were coming towards him with speed. Engineer turned slightly more towards the corner and pulled his knees closer to his body but neither truly did anything to protect him: Pyro bounced on him and started kneading his stocky love handles.
âNahhahaâ hold it, firebug! Mehehercy!â Playful roughhousing matches had become a fairly common occurrence between the two, especially when a battle had gone particularly awry and Pyro saw Engineer need a lift for his self-esteem and something to cheer him up. Namely, they had discovered quite soon into their friendship that squeezing the soft area just above Engineerâs hips was one of the easiest ways to make him curl up like an armadillo and giggle wheezily.
This time was no exception. Engineer wriggled and turned over from side to side trying to evade Pyroâs hands. âAhalright, buddy, enougâbwahaha!â Pyro dipped their hands under his overalls and scribbled at his paunch â a truly bratty move.
âDaharn it, now I know youâre asking for it!â Engineer did his best to block Pyroâs attack for a moment with one hand while reaching for a counterattack with Gunslinger. As he made contact to scratch Pyroâs tummy, the latter let out a cheerful peal of muffled giggles and fell on their back spread eagle. While they reflexively twitched at Engie clawing on their midriff, they didnât do anything to protect their tickle spots. While all this was going on, the teleport whirred again.
When that evening Sniper had left his camper to fill his thermos with coffee for the next day as usual, probably nothing would have prepared him for the scene that was now laid before him. On the floor there was Pyro rolling on their back and seemingly happily receiving belly scritches from Engineerâs creepy mecha hand; on the couch by the kitchen entrance Heavy was squeezing the thighs and hips of a wildly cackling Medic who countered by nibbling and raspberrying away on Heavyâs neck the best he could; what looked like a scrambled pile of matchsticks and a large rug under it was on fire; and lastly there were Demo and Soldier holding down a flailing, screeching Scout and holding a casual conversation while tasing at his sides, although to hear themselves over Scout they were practically yelling at each otherâs faces.
ââNO WAY, SO YOU PULLED THE PIN OFF THAT ROCK ANDâ?â
âYES! I THREW THE GARNET AND FRACTURED THAT SLIMY COMMUNISTâS NOSEââ
âGAHAHAHAAH YOU GUYS SUHUHUCK! SNIPES, HEHEHELP!â
âYES, SNIPER! HELP US GIVE THIS TREASONOUS COWARD A LESSON!â
Sniper made a beeline into the kitchen, careful not to look anyone in the eye, and loaded the coffeemaker faster than he probably had ever done.
âEch, spoilsport! While youâre there, can you at least fill up myâhey, what the hell?â Demo paused to pull up a leather wineskin he had grown accustomed to take to the battlefield with him: it was far more practical to drink from that as the glassy Scrumpy bottles were bound to shatter at some point anyway and usually ended up being more of use as weapons. Now he noticed the wineskin had taken damage too, though: it had a neat hole in it through which its containments had leaked out. âSniper!â
Sniper broke into cold sweat. Demoâs unprofessional habit of drinking on the clock had annoyed him greatly ever since he first had witnessed him stagger drunkenly around Dustbowl. It had been pure chance that during last Fridayâs match a moment of relative peace had allowed Sniper to take his aim off the control point for one second and that he just had happened to get the perfect angle to pull a practical joke on the bloody drunkard. The shot had been perfect, precise and quiet: the dart had punctured the leathery bag and stopped its travel on the harder cap while its owner had been laying stickybombs blissfully oblivious of any of this. In hindsight and especially in a spot like this, though, Sniperâs moment of mischief started seeming much, much worse of an idea.
âSorry, mate. Must have misfired.â
âBloody hell, I paid a fine fortune for this. Letâs hope at least the cap isnât broken.â Demo popped the wooden stopper off to inspect it. It didnât seem to have cracked badly from the shot but there was something else that piqued Demoâs intrigue: the dart was still stuck on the stopperâs bottom, and it had a tiny piece of cloth wrapped around it.
That moment Sniper remembered what extra steps he had taken to make his trick on Demo be even cheekier. Why, oh why did the coffee have to drip so slowly?
Demo rolled the cloth â a piece of parchment â open and read its contents out loud. ââNext time, leave your piss bladder homeââ, Demoâs expression tightened, ââyou drunken wankerâ.â
Sniper took off to a sprint towards the teleporter. Never mind the coffee, he could simply wake up a little earlier for it.
âOh, thatâs it, you bloody camper!â
âGot him!â Medic got up from the couch and managed to grab Sniper by the collar of his vest, making him yelp and stumble a few steps back. It was enough to enable Medic to wrap both of his arms around Sniperâs chest and start scritching his underarms and ribs. âHerr Sniper is one of the worst offenders when it comes to squirmy patients!â
The sight was not much short of a saddle bronc show: Sniper flailed, bucked, pushed Medicâs wrists with full force, did everything in his power to try to throw the doctor off his back. To his credit he managed to keep any laughter bubbling inside his chest from getting out, only letting a few discomforted grunts slip through gritted teeth.
âHold âim tight, doctor! Those kangaroos are known to kick and box.â Sniper saw a threatening glint flash in Demoâs eye right before the latter pounced on him. The sandvich of three men fell back onto the couch, Medic on the bottom still keeping his tickly hold on Sniper who now realized he was in great trouble: he was squished between two relentless attackers and neither seemed to have any will to show him any mercy.
Demo drilled his thumbs into Sniperâs hips. âSorry, lad. Must have missteppedâ, he mocked as Sniperâs dam broke and wheezy cackles burst out.
âGHAHHAHAâ! Bloody pansies, jumping ohohon two against oneâ!â
With Demoâs attention having diverted to another target, Scout finally managed to wriggle himself out of his captivity. The teleporter was near but it took time to warm up and Soldier was keeping up behind him way too close; Scout frantically tried to find an opening to bolt out of this common room that had descended into a stage of madness.
Scout jumped out of the way as Soldier lunged at him and speeded past him towards the door that led to the base main hall. âI need assistance!â Soldier shouted while glancing at Heavy who took the hint and leapt off his seat to join the chase.
Scout probably would have managed to escape had he not bumped into an invisible force a few feet before the door. Before he could regain his speed Heavy and Soldier had caught up to him and he felt himself whisked off the floor once again, this time crushed by Heavyâs muscular arms.
Wait. There was a big gap of empty space next to Scout yet he felt something pressing against him on that side tooâŠ
 âShow yourself, traitor!â Soldier shouted.
BLU Spy decloaked to reveal the RED intel briefcase strapped to his back and a grumpy look on his face. The presence of an enemy paused all the action in the room.
âIf I would have known what childish idiocy you spend your spare time engaged inâ, Spy muttered, âbelieve me, I gladly would have postponed stealing your intelligence until at the very least tomorrow.â
âOch, donât act like youâre so above it allâ, Demo replied. âSee how much fun our Sniper is having!â He punctuated his remark by aiming a two-handed tasing jab right in the folds above said marksmanâs hipbones, making Sniper cry out a shrill yelp that cut off to a long wheeze.
Spy turned his face away. âYes, I cannot believe even bushman has let his professional standards so low.â
âUh, isnât anyone else more concerned that thereâs a freaking enemy spy in our base?â Scout asked, still kicking in the air and struggling in Heavyâs hold. âAnd that he has our intelligence?â
âYouâre right! Little man, put briefcase down nowâ, Heavy exclaimed cheerfully while spidering both of his captives in their midriffs. Everyone was oddly mesmerized at how both Scout and Spy erupted in hysterics and flailed wildly like rapidly deflating balloons.
âNohohoho dude what the heck! Why are you tickling meheheheeâ!"
âAhahaah stop riâ -snort- arrĂȘte! ArrĂȘte -snort- immĂ©diatemehehent!â
Even Heavy was so shocked his hold on the two loosened and both got released and dropped on their feet. The room had fallen completely quiet. Spy felt nervousness creep up his spine when he realized everyoneâs eyes had turned to him.
âNo wayâ, Soldier said slowly.
âMph mmph mmh mh mmph?â Pyro stared at Spy as if they were admiring a cardboard box full of kittens.
âI wanna hear that againâ, Demo said with a growing smile. âDonât let him get away!â He threw one stickybomb to the roomâs teleporter and blew it up.
âI said no bombs inside!â
âYou are not getting out of here, Frenchman!â Soldier stepped in front of the hall door and blocked the last exit of the common room.
âIncoming!â
Spy yelped in terror as Heavy, Demo and even Pyro all charged towards him as one unit. He started retreating clumsily, bumping into chairs and tables behind him while frantically fumbling with his wristwatch. Just as Heavy reached to grab him, Spy cried another yelp of fear as he narrowly dodged and managed to reactivate the cloak, vanishing again.
Heavy stopped and stared at his empty fist that held onto nothing. âHeâs still near!â
âHis cloaking runs out soon. He cannot hide foreverâ, Medic said.
âWhich means he probably will try to infiltrate us. Men, one of us might be a spy!â Soldier shouted his conclusion from the door he was still guarding.
âVery good point! I suggest we check everyone and listen for those adorable noises he madeâ, Medic said before latching his fingers again onto Sniperâs upper body.
âBlohohoody bogan, Iâve been hehehere the whole timeâ!â
Pyro approached Engineer, wiggling their fingers teasingly. âMmh mh mmph mh mmh mh mph?â
âNoho, firebug, I ainât a spy, donât you remember, Iâve been here this whole evâbahahah! Plehease!â Bargaining did nothing as Pyro jumped Engie and tackled him to the floor while gleefully tickling his sides.
âPyhyro, dohohonât! You know itâs mehehehâHehehelp!â Engineer tried to scramble away and held onto a snorting light stand next to him for support.
A light stand snorted?
Such a small sound had become recognizable enough to catch everyoneâs ear.
Medic let go of Sniper who fell limp on the couch as a wheezing mess. âEngineer, hold that still.â
Engineer obeyed, even giving the standâs middle another squeeze for another choked noise.
Even though it was hard to tell through the disguise, it was safe to say Spyâs focus was entirely on the direction of the imminent danger that was coming from Medic and Pyro who had taken clear interest on the noise-making âlight standâ; so off-guard he was caught when Heavy snatched him from behind into a tight embrace.
Heavy blew a raspberry on the standâs topmost seam right below the lightbulb, and the disguise dissolved.
âNohohohon! -snort- Je vous jure -snort- quehahaha quand mes collĂ©guehehes -snort- reviendrohohont pour -snort- moiââ
Spyâs sensitive neck (and as Medic and Pyro soon figured out, it was far from his only sensitive spot) proved to be so entertaining that almost everyone wanted to have their own turn with it. The only ones who didnât were Engineer and Sniper who used the opening to quietly slink away, as they were smart enough not to incur the enemy Spyâs wrath, and RED Spy who had been smart enough to stay away from the common room altogether the moment he first heard raucous laughter from there.
These three were also the only ones to be spared from a respawn. Nobody bothered or remembered to put out the fire started by Pyroâs craft project so it eventually consumed the whole room and killed everyone inside.










