#ticklish!john

SUMMARY: john is an egotistical, hyper little shit. we all know that!! in a state of boredom, he goes up to his stoic older brother and decides to surprise attack him. it actually works, and once he's done, thomas gives john 5 seconds before his own demise

SEASON SET: SEASON ONE. JOHN IS 24 AND THOMAS IS 29

TW!!: swearing, brief smoking, mentions of death + war and mouth tickles

Small Heath, Birmingham was no easy place to live in 1919. After the war, tension was everywhere - the already raving streets now full of chaos and smoke. Grime coated the exterior of houses, fog clouded the city sights and children were roaming everywhere, unaccompanied and endangered.

Birmingham was no fun anymore, even for people in gangs - well, that was John's perspective. Being the youngest of the three main brothers, he had to grow up quite quickly, mature too fast. And although, yes, he was a capable man with a strong heart, he was also quite childish and his mindset resembled that of a teenage boy.

He needed some action— some spice to make his day, hell, maybe even his week a little more interesting. So, what not better to do than to torment his second-oldest brother? His most stoic brother? Thomas Shelby. Yet, sometimes, John had to admit even he was scared of his older brother, as his oldest was also a bit weary of the middle child. Why? Before the war in France, Thomas was lively - he laughed, he smiled, he was happy. But, after the war, that person didn't come back. A new Thomas came - a hardened, more stern, more emotionless Thomas that lead the gang called the 'Peaky Blinders'.

Aside from that aspect - John wasn't so worried. Maybe Thomas would appreciate it? Maybe he could escape fast enough? Oh well. No matter the consequences, he was already hooked on-

Well. What? He didn't know what to do -- so, he sat down in the meeting room, pondering. He didn't want to hurt Thomas, far from it, actually. Maybe it'd be good to see his brother laugh, at least once in a while, maybe he could..

It clicked.

It was stupid.

It was childish.

Oh, but that was who John was anyway, and God did it work. He'd just have to tickle him - I mean, when was the last time he saw that happen? Probably not even once. At that, John was set. Determined, he stood up and went to go find his brother.

"Aunt Pol! Aunt Pol? Have you seen Thomas anywhere?"

No answer.

"Arthur!! Where the fuck's Tom?"

"Oh, John, Tommy's in his office as usual. You should know that."

That was easy, only took 15 minutes. But, anyway, John made his way in without knocking and took a seat in front of his brothers desk, a cheeky, sly smirk already starting to force his way onto his lips. "What's up, Tom?"

Thomas only sighed, he didn't even have to look up to hear the smile in his younger brother's voice. He knew it meant trouble. Keeping his eyes on his letter as he wrote it, he answered gruffly. "Yes, John? What is it? If it isn't about business, it can wait." That only made John snicker.

Adjusting his hat, John rolled his eyes. He straightened out his suit and leaned backwards, his head hanging off of the chair. "What'cha doin', eh?" The mischievous one asked, lighting a cigarette and beginning to smoke it. Taking a long puff, he waited for Thomas' answer - a sigh of frustration.

Thomas kept his eyes on his pen, still writing about important things as he talked to John, trying to keep his mind on business. "Writing a letter to the Lee Family. We're conspiring for a deal. Now get out if you don't have anything important to say." He then looked up at John, finally, with a serious and stern look on his face.

"Why are you so serious, huh, bro? What's the matter?" John took another few puffs before stumping his cigarette down in Thomas' ash tray. "You know, you should laugh once ina' while. I haven't seen you laugh since the war. Ever since France, seeing our friends die n' shit, you haven't even made a joke! A fucking joke, Tom." Chair scraping against the wooden floorboards as he stood up abruptly, the sneaky, young adult made his way behind Thomas.

"You have seen me laugh, John."

"Not properly!"

The Leader of Peaky Blinders only rolled his eyes and set his pen down - that's when he tensed. "John. Get your 'ands off of me. I swear to God-" A sharp intake of breath.

"Oho- Are you still fuckin' ticklish, Tom?" The older brother immediately tried to escape, but a firm squeeze to the stomach made him snort and double over. Of course John still knew how to make him snort, of course. The younger only grinned widely and began to flutter his fingers over his navel.

"Pffhahaha- F-Fohor Christ sake, Johohn!" Thomas grabbed John's wrists, trying to push them away to no avail as he was only pushing weakly. It had been a while since he was able to laugh freely, and he didn't mind it so much. "I'm tryhying to w-write a fuhuck- fuckihihing lehehetter!" Slightly embarrassed, he hid his face in his arm, a soft pink hue settling on his face.

Not listening, John dragged his nails up along his brother's abs to his ribcage - his nails slightly grown out - and began to vibrate them gently into the skin in between each individual rib. "Your letter isn't fuckin' important right now. What is important is seeing you piss yourself laughing!" That earnt a sarcastic huff from Thomas, who was trying to keep his giggles in, hiding his mouth in his arm, but it was no use.

"Ahalright- Alright.. Thahahat's enohoHOUGH- JOHOHN!" The 29-year-old man practically squealed as he kicked out a leg, his younger brother had drilled his thumbs into his ever-so-sensitive hip divots. Slamming his hands into John's, he tried to push his wrists away for real. But, the tickling had made his strength evaporate. "LEHEHET ME GOHO- RIGHT NOHOW!"

"Mmm.. Nah. This shit is too fuckin' priceless go let go." That's when he felt Thomas really try to push him off, and he had to wrap his arms around the man to keep him still. John spidered his fingers up and down his sides and gently pinched at his hips. The Leader was in hysterics, banging his fist onto the table as he practically shook with laughter.

"G-GEHEHET THE FUHUCK OHOFF!" Thomas' cheeks began to ache from smiling so much - that's when he knew be bad enough. He then tapped out, and John slowed his hands to a stop. Smiling widely, the younger ruffled his hair. "Ahaha.. Heh.. Fuck.."

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it, Tom?"

"Five seconds."

"What?"

"You.. You have five fuhucking seconds to run before I bloody hunt you down."

John felt his cheeks heat up instantly, and be bolted faster than he ever had. He wasn't about to let this fucker- "Five." SHIT.

"Nononono-" He scrambled out of the office and into a room that no one ever went in. Yet, he wasn't safe there. Hidden behind the door, he felt Thomas near the room he was in. The door swung open, and John almost burst into nervous giggles right then and there. He had to cover his mouth, his cheeks already burning in embarrassment. He was fucking twenty-four! Why was he acting like a fourteen year old?!

Walking around the room slowly, Thomas checked every possible space John could be in. The latter thought he was safe, until: "You know, John. I'm not stupid." A snort slipped. He tried to bolt for it again, but felt hands wrap around his waist right before he set a foot out of the door.

"Noho- Nononono- Tohom-" John panicked through giggles, pushing at his hands.

"I'm not touching you yet."

That's when John felt himself get pinned to the floor, his arms being hoisted above his head. "That's- That's nohot fucking fair! I d-didn't pin you!" Thomas only raised an eyebrow and began tickling.

"Life's not fair, John." He began a lecture as he started to pinch and knead his brother's delicate sides, eliciting squeaky, boyish, frantic laughter from the grown man. "You should know that, for starters. We grew up in this shithole."

"SHUHUT UHUHUP! FUHUCK YOUHU-"

He let out a sweet snort, burying his blushing face into his pinned shoulder.

"Now, now, John. Not every sentence you speak has to have profanity in it." Thomas tutted, smirking when the younger arched his back when the older began to knuckle his ribs, snorting and squeaking with sweet belly laughter.

"I-IHI SAHAID SHUHUT UP, T-TOHOM!" John screeched, falling back against the floor and attempting to curl up. He was being dramatic, as usual. This wasn't a problem for Thomas, though, who kept switching spots to keep John laughing like a mad man. He found the edges of John's untucked shirt and slid his hard, calloused hands in to scribble at his belly button, electing a scream. "EHEHEHAHAHAHA-"

"Tch. Twenty-four, and you act like a toddler. You need to keep your shirt tucked in, John. The Peaky Blinders can't be seen as a lousy gang, can it now?" He scolded his brother as he ignored the screams coming from him. His blunt fingernails and rough skin only added to the torture as he switched between scribbling and clawing his lean stomach. John's eyes scrunched close.

"OHO, FUHUCK OHOFF- T-THIHIHIS GAHAHANG IHIS SHIHIT AHAHAHANYWAY-"

"...Is it now?" Thomas inquired, face darkening slightly as his fingers froze. Oh shit. Fuck. Please have mercy.

But, John wouldn't give up. Not now. He was doomed either way! "Y-Yeheah... I-It is.. WaitwaitwaitWAIIIT-" He instantly shrieked when he felt Thomas pull his shirt up to his ribs, eyes snapping open, all thoughts of not giving up vanishing.

"What? What do you possibly have to say for yourself?" Thomas asked with a raised eyebrow, eyes flickering down to John's midriff - the sensitive, delicate skin had gained a soft, red hue to match his blushing face.

"P-Plehease... I swear, I-I didn't mehean it-" John shied under his gaze, hiding his wobbly smile with his arm. This was a rare occurrence of when Thomas actually gave tickles like this, and they were the WORST.

"That won't save you." Thomas then proceeded to blow the biggest raspberry ever known to man onto John's lower stomach, his stubble scratching perfectly against the skin beneath. When I tell you John shrieked, I don't mean a brief one, I mean one that rang throughout the streets of Small Heath.

John shook his head from side to side hysterically, letting out extremely childish giggles, tears pricking his eyes (and soon streaming down his already glossy cheeks) as Thomas placed not one, not two, but three raspberries all over his stomach. "FUHUHUCK- OKAHAHAHAY! PLEHEHEASE- IHIHI- I'M SOHOHOHORRY!!" He yelled, barely able to speak before his laughter went completely silent. That's when Thomas took the sign to stop, releasing John and patting his chest.

"Still as weak to them as you were when you were twelve." The older teased lightly, standing up and watching John do so. When the younger stumbled, he gently caught him and rubbed his back. "Tuck your shirt in, look appropriate and go rest. We have a busy day tomorrow."

John nodded, wiping his tears with his sleeve. "Y-Yeah... Whatever.."

"...Love you, Tom."

"I love you too, John. Go rest now, and don't disturb me again."

“You serious need to understand that..”

“That what?”

“That you totally suck at this game!” Dave held back a giggle, as to not ruin his stoic performance. He watched John out of the side of his shades get visibly agitated from the useless comment

“Real funny, hey who’s this guy? Watching and walking around telling jokes? Yeah real mature D-AVE!” John’s comeback was rudely interrupted by a big red “Player 1 wins” pop up onto the TV screen that sat in-front of both the boys.

“You suck man, you suck big time.” Dave leaned back into the beanbag he was sitting on turning to face John who’s now looked more shocked than ever

“How! You cheated! I know you did, you couldn’t have possibly beat me I was maxed out!” John complained, jestering his arms around to finalize his point.

“I’m just better John, you’ll understand when you get to my level.” He smirked

“Don’t smirk like that, it makes you look even more stupid with the combination of sunglasses inside” John sat back crossing his arms, finally excepting defeat

“Don’t flame me because you can’t beat me in the easiest game in the universe”

“Take them off Dave, nobodies gonna see, your not that special…” John whispered that last part, but not enough where Dave couldn’t hear him. It was the loud type of whisper where if you were to play telephone, everybody would’ve already know what was said.

“What was that John? Sorry can’t hear you over the sound of me winning!”

“I said your not that important!”

“No, you said special, I have very good hearing you know?”

“Why would you ask me if you knew what I said? Sounds like you seem to be going crazy”

“It’s called multitasking!”

“FUCK!- your multitasking!” John said, kicking the side of Dave’s beanbag

“You’re such an ass of a sore loser, just admit I won fair and square,” Dave wrinkled his brow at the sight of John childlike nature. He caught John’s foot before he could give another around of abuse to the poor beanbag.

“Let go asshole! You cheated and you did not win fair or square!” John pulled at his leg, hoping to retrieve it but instead was met with new found knowledge…. Daves grip is incredibly strong

"Kick me again and I kill you!" Dave tighted his grip on his ankle

"OW! Fuck! Dave let GO!!" John was practiclly falling out of his own bean bag from trying to yank his leg back, to be fair the closer he was getting to dave the more streght he had agasnt him.

Dave let go for a second to re-adjust his grip, in that spilt second John had kicked, and John kicked hard, resulting in Dave earning a socked foot straight to the face, knocking his shades off in the process.

Silence fell

...

"Dave..."

"...."

"Dave are you ok?"

"....John..." Dave looked down at his shades, which remainded intact, and had landed only a few feet away from them.

"D-Dave.. Dave look I-" John slowly took his foot back but Dave grabbed onto it hard, pulling him closer quickly.

"OH YOU ARE SO IN FOR IT NOW!" Dave lept off his beanbag, tackling John back onto the floor in anger. Oh he was so gonna pay for that.

Now John and Dave have wrestled before in the past, you know how boys do, and the winner of 3/4 of these were Dave. So to say that John was cooked.... he was fried! To be fair he tried to put a good fight, grabing at Dave forearms and wiggling to try to get him to look focus, but Dave had seen his tactics before and combat them with dislodging his grip and holding John in place.

"DAVE DAVE WAIT!!!!!" John pleded, maybe Dave would reconsider trying to murder his best friend?

"..."

"LOOK DUDE I DIDNT- GAH! DIDNT THINK Y-YOOU- UGH!!!" As John struggled against his superiorly stronger friend, Dave looked him dead in the eyes throughout the whole thing.

Dave soon succsefully pinned John, sitting on top of his waist with his shoulders squeazing the ground. They both huffed and caught their breath before Dave started the intaragation questions.

"Why would you kick me! Actually, no, why would you THINK of kicking me!?!" Dave growled, now that John could get a good look at his face without the glasses, he knew he screwed up majorly.

"I-I didnt mean to! It kinda just happned!" John defended while trying to unpin his shoulders from the floor.

"I'm still not hearing an apolo-GY!" Daves hands slipped off of Johns shoulders cause a palm to the face, as John was raising his arms trying to push Dave off of him.

John pulled his hands back instantly, internaly screaming, knowing he wasnt going to make it out of here alive. Dave reopened his eyes, now angier than ever, ready to take on Johns life and end it.

"You... are soo...... DEAD!" Dave quickly reached for both of Johns hands, hoisting them above his head and using his free hand to scribble into his stomach.

John let out a reactive screach before falling into loud giggles, squirming and trying to wiggle away from the torturous hand. He pulled on his hands to no luck, this time Dave was sure he wasnt gonna let go.

"DAhahaaveE!! LOhohoOK I dihihidnt MEHEHAhahan toohohoo!" John laughed, Dave still wanst hearing that apology that he was looking for unfourtantly. So instead of going easy, he decided he needed to dig out that "Im so sorry Dave. I will never do it again".

"IT WAS AN ACIDENT!! NONO NOHOHOHO!!" John squealed as Dave slowly moved up against his ribs, his fingers digging into each bone sending ticklish sensations throughout his upper body.

"All I want from you is one thing, John, and if you cant give it to me, we might be here forever." Dave leaned in, getting closer to Johns face with every other word. John was too busy laughing to notice how smirky Dave was getting over this. He was most definetly having fun with this.

"I DOHOH- HEAA!! DONT KNOHOW WHAHAT YOUR TAHAHALKING ABOHOUTTT!! STAHAHAOP!!!" John kicked his legs out behind Dave, hoping to relive the tickly feeling as Dave was still getting higher and higher along his body.

“You don’t? Oh really?” Dave finally latched onto John’s armpit and massaged into the open area with all his might. John screeched, arching his back before falling back down into silent laughter. His cheeks burned red from the lack of oxygen as well as knowing the fact Dave is the one who’s putting him through this.

“OKAY!! OKAAHAHAAAAY!!” He wheezed out, kicking his heels into the carpet, he tugged extra hard at his hands as tears began to fall down his cheeks.

“Are you gonna give me what I want?” Dave asked, slowing down his attack to make it lighter and over all less overwhelming. John took a deep breath in, still giggling like crazy, and nodded repeatedly.

“Yeheheess!! *inhale* I wihihill!!” John reassured, taking more air in as he felt the grip on his wrist loosen.

“Ok then, let me hear it.” Dave sat up crossing his arms with the biggest grin John had ever seen on him.

“I’m so-sorry! Im sorry for knocking your glasses off! And you won…. Fair a square!” John leaned up onto his elbows looking up at the smiling boy. He couldn’t tell if it was Dave being shitty or Dave actually having a good time.

“Thank you, now was that so hard Egbert?” Dave in cross his arm and put both hands on opposite sides of his own hips.

“Whatever, now get off me it’s gay!” John chuckled sitting up and pushing at Dave’s chest, getting ready for another round. Hopefully this time John would actually win.

“And what if I like it that way?” Dave whispered into John’s ear and John could just feel the smug in his voice. Not soon after Dave giggled as John pushed his away again.

“Stohahop!!” John joked, obviously it was a joke, right? Either way that’s not what’s important-

“What important is how I’m gonna actually beat your ass this time!” John challenged grabbing his controller

“Just admit it’s your ass who’s getting beat!” Dave shrugged, picking up his controller as well as his shades. Except he didn’t put them on, he just set them aside, it was probably getting in the way of his ultimate win.

           “Hello, Sherlock,” John leaned against one of the arms of his chair, giving his full attention to his disgruntled friend. Sherlock pulled a handful of items from his pocket, dropping them on his side table, letting them scatter wildly before picking out a single blue button. Without looking at it, he held it between his thumb and finger, letting the pad of his thumb circle the intricate patterned boarder. “Rough day?”

           “You had a fight with Harry today,” He said matter-of-factly, staring at a spot on the wall just above John’s head. John let his phone drop to his lap, two new messages briefly flashing on the dim screen. Lips slightly parted, John thought against asking how Sherlock knew that, and instead leaned back farther into his chair, continuing to stare at his friend. “Another blackout, whiskey induced. She needed something, money, to pay someone off, but you refused to give it to her. Now she’s apologizing after sobering up with a cold shower.”

           “Thank you for narrating my day,” John let out a huff, tilting his head slightly when he saw Sherlock flash a faint smile. “What? You just figure out a case?”

           “You’re becoming too predictable, John,” Sherlock changed his focus, bringing his eyes down to look directly at John, briefly noting the buzz of his phone, the third message of the last five minutes. “Now, you’re trying to relax by ignoring your sister. You want to go to bed, but you don’t want to mute her, in fear that she will do something reckless. You want to respond, but you don’t want to start another argument.”

           “First of all, mean,” John scratched the top of his head, licking his lips. “Second of all, I was going to respond, but you walked in being all loud and sort.”            “If you really wanted to respond, John, you would have ignored me,” Sherlock pointed out, sticking an index finger in the air. John hated the fact he was right, but he also knew that Sherlock was always right.

           “So, are you just going to stare at me until I respond or?” John felt his phone buzz against his thigh. As John picked up the phone to read her message, he was instantly overcome with a familiar sensation. “Sherlock!”

           “You seem very tense, and this is what you would do to me if I had just had a massive argument, so I am doing it to you instead,” Sherlock announced, tickling John’s sides and stomach, causing him to curl inward. This was John’s typical way of dealing with a moody Sherlock, but it was rarely used on him. It was quite refreshing actually, after a long day of dealing with his intoxicated sister, being able to relax a little was quite enjoyable. However, John did have an urge to turn the tables, and that he did.

           With as much strength as he could muster, John pushed Sherlock back, sending him tumbling to the floor. John made his move, quickly pouncing onto the man, his phone plummeting to the ground as it vibrated once again to another sober message. Pinning down Sherlock’s hands beneath his knees, John went to town on his more ticklish body. While John was bad, Sherlock was so much worse, thrashing in no time. John knew exactly which spots to hit, making quick work of the younger man, enjoying the sound of Sherlock’s adorably happy laughter, completely unrestrained and open. At first, Sherlock had tried to hide his ticklishness from John, but after years being friends and learning how the act could nearly be called “therapeutic,” both men just let it happen, enjoying the moment as much as they could.

           “You still upset with Lestrade?” John asked, switching from tickling Sherlock’s worst spot, under his arms, to lightly running his fingers along his sides, Sherlock letting out soft, breathy giggles.

           “No,” Sherlock replied, smile stuck on his face. “And are you still upset at Harry?”

           “Not anymore,” John shook his head, pulling away from Sherlock, getting to his feet. Sherlock took his hand, following John to his feet. His phone vibrated once again on the floor, John letting out a sigh. “Guess I’ll go accept her apology now.”

           “Good,” Sherlock replied, walking toward his room.

           “Are you going to apologize for being upset with Lestrade?” John asked, plucking his phone off the ground.

           “Not at all,” Sherlock said, stretching his arms over his head before pulling his door open. Time for him to sleep for a few days.