Fight the champion
Zenless Zone Zero - Lighter x Wise
A/N: If anything, you guys should thank @/ticklystuff for being the brain behind this fic even tho he doesn't play the game. Thanks for the idea, friend, tho I'm not sure if it was properly executed ehe
Also, I apologize in advance for how OOC Lighter may sound here, I'm still getting a grip at his character
Summary: After winning a "fight" against Wise, Lighter tries to make up for his doings
Word count: 2356 words
[Read it on Ao3]
âL-LIHIGHTEHERâ AHAHAHAH, STOHOHOP IT!!â
Wise couldnât remember the last time he laughed like this. In fact, he couldnât even remember the last time he was this loud. All he could feel was his head spinning, his heart beating and Lighterâs hands wreaking havoc on his skin. It tickled - it tickled as if each and every single one of his nerves were on fire, sparkling like fireworks under his skin.Â
Wise felt his cheeks, his stomach and even his ribs - to which Lighterâs fingers seemed to be particularly fond of - hurting from the laughter. How long has it been? Five, ten minutes? He couldnât tell.
A tickle fight. All of this mess started with the stupid idea of starting a tickle fight against the Sons of Calydonâs champion. Wise knew he was going to lose - that was the whole point of it!
Playfully wrestling Lighter, being overpowered, tickled a little, surrendering and done. He would have Lighter on top of him, heartstruck and ready for him to act cute and pull all sorts of impure acts later⌠it seemed like the perfect plan, so how could it all end so wrong?
Wise pressed his head back, laughing his soul to heaven and back when Lighterâs hand moved down to his hips again. âLIGHTER, PLEHEHEASE!! IâM DYIHIHING HERE!!â
âThatâs no way for a fighter to speak, manager, you shouldnât yield just after a couple hits,â Lighter chuckled, his grip around Wiseâs wrists tightening while the tickled moved back up to the proxyâs sides.
Wiseâs feet had already kicked all the cushions off the couch in their aimless flailing and his throat was as dry as the soil near Blazewood. Wise lost count of how many times he asked âpleaseâ, tried to yield or to call uncle, but it was clear that none of those mattered for Lighter. He was a champion defending his title, after all, how could Wise expect any mercy from him?
Calling it âhysteriaâ wouldnât make justice to the noises Lighter was drawing out of the proxy when his gloved hand decided to sneak under Wiseâs shirt and tickle his bare skin.Â
Lighter raised his eyebrows at the reaction, catching a few glimpses of that forced, desperate smile on Wiseâs face while he prodded between each bone of Wiseâs ribcage. âIt sure looks like it tickles, huh? Shouldâve thought twice before picking up this fight, manager ~â He teased again, trying to get some comprehensible speech out of the other, but Wise seemed just too busy to think of anything else.
Saying he wasnât fond of Wiseâs laughter, smile and blushing cheeks would be a blatant lie. A ugly, nasty lie. And could one really blame Lighter for taking the chance when Wise started to poke his sides and stomach in the middle of their movie? If that wasnât an invitation to âfightâ back, then what else would it be?
âP-PLEHEHEASE!!â Wise laughed, arching his back off the couch when Lighter shoved his hand all the way up to tickle the proxyâs armpit. âJ-JUST STOHOHOP!!â
âBut youâre no-â Lighter stopped, snapping back from his daydreaming and spotting the last thing he wanted to see on Wiseâs face: tears. âD-damn it,â he gasped, quickly letting go of Wiseâs wrists, âare you ok, manager?â
This was bad, really, really bad. He got carried away, forgetting this wasnât how it was supposed to go. Now that he thought about it, what if Wise wasnât actually smiling just now? All that laughter was a forced reaction? One that Lighter carelessly exploited for his own amusement⌠My, what has he done?!
â...w-whahat?â Wise asked, taking some deep, needed breaths and letting the air back into his lungs for the first time in a while. He still had that dazzled, drunk-like look on his face, barely aware of his surroundings.
âManager, does-â Lighter hesitated, freezing the hand that was about to reach for Wise midair. Damn it, damn it, damn it! âD-does it hurt? I didnât- I didnât mean toâŚâ Of course, but what was a brute like him expecting, he thought.
This shouldâve been a cute, romantic moment between couples - just like in the movie they were watching - but he ruined it and now Wise was crying!
âH-hurt?â Wise asked, slowly sitting back up and wiping the small tears of mirth off his lashes. âNo, it just- just tickled. A lot, in fact, hahah,â Wise giggled, running a hand through his hair, unaware of the concern concealed behind Lighterâs glasses.
âDo sugarcoat it, manager,â Lighter furrowed his brows, taking one of Wiseâs hands into his. His skin was probably sore after all the abuse from his rough hands - or, even worse, what if he broke one of Wiseâs ribs while tickling him? What if all those squeezes and prods left bruises?â âI-I can help you- no, better, I can call for hel-â
âL-Lighter,â Wise giggled, stopping the other from getting up from the couch. He still found this whole situation way too amusing, even kind of cute - despite not really understanding it. âWhat are you talking about? Iâm fine,â Wise scoffed, cocking his head to the side.Â
âYour body,â Lighterâs lips quivered slightly. He settled his hands down on the couch, lowering his gaze, âdid I hurt you?â
â...huh?â
âYou can be honest,â Lighter sighed, his fingers clenching into a fist. âWhen- when we were playing now and, well, I was tickling you, was I too rough? Did it hurt?â
âWhat? No! Lighter, Iâm fine,â Wise chuckled, reaching to cup Lighterâs cheek. He removed the otherâs glasses, meeting his gaze full of worry and guilt. While this seemed like the silliest of concerns for Wise, he could tell Lighter was serious about it. Dead serious.
The man sighed, his shoulders slouching as he finally relaxed a little. â...right,â Lighter reached for one of Wiseâs hands, gently holding his wrist before nuzzling into his palm. âI just got carried away and thought I⌠I overdid it when I saw you crying.â
Wise blushed a little, taken aback by the explanation. How should he take it? Did he look so frail that Lighter thought he could hurt him with tickling? Or was it that Lighter cared so much that even tears of laughter made him worry?
âDonât be stupid,â Wise hissed shyly, weakly pulling at his hand only to find it stuck in Lighterâs grip - again.
âAre you mad at me?â Lighter asked and, for a moment, Wise could see dripping doggy ears on top of his head. âLet me at least make it up for you, manager!â
âL-Lighter!â Wise gasped, even more flustered at the whole scene. âI-it was just tickling, a play fight. T-thereâs nothing for you to make up to⌠I was the one who started it anyway and-â
âThen,â Lighter interrupted, leaning a little forward and bringing Wiseâs hand close to his chest, âtickle me back. We would be even then, right? I promise I wonât fight you off this time!â
Wise went silent, blinking a few times while processing Lighterâs words. He, in fact, was the one who started the said fight by tickling Lighter first, but he never really planned to win it. In fact, he knew from the start it would be a losing battle - he just didnât expect it to be that bad of a defeat.
âT-tickle you?â
âYes, isnât it what you wanted? Like in the movie we were watching,â Lighter nodded, with at least a part of his usual attitude seemingly recovered. âPlease, manager? You are not going to leave me hanging, right?â Lighter stared at Wise with pleading eyes, bringing his hand up to his lips and planting a kiss on his knuckles. âItâs the least I can do, no?â
Wise cringed slightly, unable to take his hand away from Lighter this time. It was a cute attitude, yes, but so uncalled for⌠Still, how could say no when Lighter had that look on his face? â...A-alright, Iâll do it, then.â
Nearly sparkling at the mere sound of those words, Lighter reached for Wiseâs with his free hand and pulled the other back down with him. The proxy couldnât help but let out a small gasp, his hands resting on top of Lighterâs chest as he tried to support himself.
âDonât hold back, manager. Iâm a toughie, I can take it,â Lighter nodded, watching Wise steady himself on top of his lap. He crossed both arms behind his head, rolling his shirt up and bit and exposing some of his lower stomach in the process.
It was hard for Wise to not get distracted from the main task at hand. With one hand on each side of Lighterâs chest, the proxy couldnât help but give the muscles a gentle squeeze - feeling them with just a skin tight shirt on the way felt much better than with a heavy biker jacket.
âOi, manager,â Lighter chuckled, âthat doesnât tickle, you know?â He joked, not that he would really mind having Wise fondling with his chest, but he wouldnât lose the chance to tease him for that either.
âRight, tickling,â Wise muttered out loud, stopping his fingers from committing any other inappropriate act. âWhere are you ticklish, Lighter?â
Of all the things that just happened, this was what seemed to puzzle Lighter the most. âDunno,â the man sighed, looking up to the ceiling as he tried to recall the last time he felt someone touching him so lightly. âOn⌠my neck?â
Wise frowned, unsatisfied. âJust that wonât do,â he scoffed, tracing a finger down Lighterâs torso, feeling each and every one of his muscles. His eyes shifted back and forth between the otherâs body and face, carefully watching him in an attempt to capture any reaction. âDo you feel anything if I do this?â
âNot sure,â Lighter said while closing his eyes, his position barely shifting if it wasnât for his chest waving with each breath, âtry a little harder, manager.â
Those words made Wise flinch, almost as if waking something inside him. Lighter still had his eyes closed, his body open to Wise, almost as if he was just about to drift to sleep. Did he trust him that much?
Still, he was already way too into it to turn down such an opportunity. âAlright,â he said, bringing his other hand into action and getting a hold onto Lighterâs waist. Wise pinched the spot, pressing his thumbs down on the soft meat and rubbing circles into the-
âAh!â
Wiseâs head shot up, looking up from Lighterâs lower stomach to his face with widened eyes. Funny enough, Lighter seemed just as surprised, almost startled by the sudden sensation. Wise smirked.
âWhat about now?â He said, repeating the motion and even skittering his other fingers around Lighterâs lower sides. Wise felt that massive body shift under him and his heart skip a bit at the sound he heard next.
âI-it tihihickles,â Lighter giggled, furrowing his brows and scrunching up his nose while a restrained smile took place over his lips. Lighter pressed his chin down at his chest, his elbows faltering as his instincts yelled at him to lower his arms and stop whatever was causing this.
But he listened neither to his instincts, nor to his better judgement. âIt dehehefinitely does!â
âGood,â Wise nodded, moving his hands towards each other and tickling Lighterâs stomach, watching it tremble as more and more giggles spilled from his lips. âYouâre quite sensitive, Lighter.â
Yes, he was. Lighter pressed his knees together, crossed one ankle over the other behind Wiseâs back and even clenched his hand around his hair. One of these things had to make that growing urge to laugh more bearable, he thought. âI knohohow!â
Wise chuckled, continuing to tickle around those toned abs while deciding where he should try next. âAnd not only on your neck,â he teased, poking Lighterâs ribs on each side and making the man jolt with surprise before dissolving into that soft, but held-back laughter again.
âD-do yohohou lihihike it, manahahager?â He didnât know why he insisted on speaking - maybe it was just another attempt to distract himself. Yet, for some reason, he didnât exactly hate that feeling - maybe because Wise was the one providing it.
âWhy does it matter? You wonât become less ticklish if I say I donât, right?â
âI cohohould try!â
The proxy rolled his eyes, drilling his fingers in the spaces between each bone of Lighterâs ribcage. Exploring a Hollow seemed easier than making this man crack up. At that point, Wise would be breathless, with his heart pumping blood at the same rate as the motor in Lighterâs motorcycle.
âItâs not fair, youâre holding back,â Wise whined, pushing one of Lighterâs elbows back to claw at the exposed armpit with the other, tickling it as best as he could, âthereâs no way you are just this ticklish.â
âB-buhuhut- ahAhaha, it stihill tihihickles, mahahanager!â Lighter laughed, turning his face away to avoid Wiseâs gaze upon him. He felt hot around the collar and airheaded, making it even harder to think about the right words to say. Was there anything for him to say, though? Should he even say anything?
While these thoughts spiraled inside his head, the tickling slowed down, eventually coming to a total halt. Missing that swirling sensation that came from it inside his stomach, Lighter slowly opened his eyes, turning his head back to face the proxy.
âS-satisfied already, manager?â
Wise smiled, shaking his head. âItâs no use - I canât beat the champion, even in a tickle fight,â he said with a giggle, leaning forward until he could nuzzle his nose against Lighterâs, brushing his lips over the other manâs before giving them a small peck.
âSo,â Lighter sighed, finally lowering his arms and wrapping one of them around Wiseâs neck. âDoes this mean you forgive me? For making you cry and all?â
âNot yet,â Wise muttered, making Lighter widen his eyes. âWe have to finish this movie firstâ, he winked and Lighter nodded, letting out a small, shaky sigh of relief. He laid his head back, turning his attention to the TV while feeling Wise rest on top of his chest.
âOf course, manager.â











