Could you write a drabble of Connor Kent finding out that Tim Drake is ticklish and making him rate his ticklish spots while Connor tickles his armpits, ribs, sides, and feet?
AN: Anon??? This is such a cute prompt?????? Thank you????
"Kon, no. This is silly," Tim says, a giggle already on his lips. He runs across the room, putting himself in a position so the couch would be between himself and Kon. His hands are up in front of him, both of them knowing full well that Kon is not above jumping over the couch.
"A couch? Tim, are you for real?" Kon laughs, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head, "it's almost like you're just begging me to use my TTK."
Tim's eyes widen, a blush growing on his cheeks, "you wouldn't."
Kon sends a wink his way, putting the sunglasses down on the coffee table and whipping his jacket off onto the couch, "oh, I so would."
"So, would you prefer that I tickle you with my hands," Kon says, wiggling his fingers in the air, "or with my powers?"
Tim feels the ghosting of a finger poking his side, and he flinches almost unnoticeable. "Yohou know what?" Tim says, pretending to be interested in the options, "I think neither would be fantastic."
"Robin, sometimes you just make this too easy."
Tim suddenly feels the sensation of fingers running up his sides, digging into each rib once they reach them. Tim squeals, batting away hands that aren't there, giggles peppered with snorts.
"Kohohohon nohoho!" Tim shrieks, turning in circles as if it would help rid him of the sensation.
"Does it tickle, Tim? How bad, hmm?" Kon teases, smirking as Tim writhes where he stands, giggling hysterically.
"Bahahad! Stahahap! Plehehease!" Tim squeals, Kon's fingers rising higher and higher.
"How about," Kon grins, "we do a scale from 1-10? 10 being 'I'm dying', you know, because you inherited dramatics from Dick, and 0 being 'meh, I could handle it'. Sounds good?"
"Nohohoho! Plehease nohoho!"
"Alright, a 'yes' it is." Kon laughs to himself, he focuses his powers at Tim's sides again, cooing when Tim lets out a tiny hiccup. "Give me a number, Timmy."
"Ahahaha, nohoho!"
"If you don't then I just won't stop," Kon teases before managing to make a sensation similar to a raspberry on Tim's side.
"Cahahan't! Ihihihi cahahan't! I-" Tim snorts, throwing himself onto the couch, "ahaha fohohour!"
"A four? I think we could do better, don't you, Timmers?"
Tim feels the sensation move up to his ribs, and his laughter is once again characterised by non-stop, high-pitched snorts. "S- SEHEHEVEN!"
Kon grins, "getting warmer... How about here?"
Tim squeals, falling to the ground when he feels the sensations move to under his arms. He throws his head back slamming his fists on the ground as he tries desperately to rid himself of the sensations. "KOHOHON PLEHEHEASE!"
"A number, my dear, Tim, a number."
"TEHEHEN! TEHEHEN! I- NO- PLE- KOHOHOHON!"
"Okay, okay," Kon laughs, "no need to get your panties in a twist, just one more spot."
When Tim feels the sensations move to his feet, still in his shoes and socks but somehow feeling like skin-on-skin, he loses it. He screams before dissolving into frantic, silent laughter, going limp where he had curled up on the floor.
"Last one, Tim." Kon reassures, walking over to Tim and running his fingers through the black hair while his powers do their work. "Gotta give me a number, bud."
"TEHEHEN! TEHEHEN!"
"But the last one was a ten," Kon giggles.
"THEHEN- AHAHAHA- TEHEHEN AND A HAHAHAHALF!"
"Alright, alright," Kon says, using the TTK to get Tim on his lap, still running his hand through the wavy black hair.
"Yohoho- yohohu're evil," Tim giggles into Kon's stomach, fists balling up into Kon's shirt.
"Well, I am half Lex Luthor, gotta use the evil for good."
"Ohoho my gohohod," Tim giggles, "rehehemind me tohoho never get ihihinto it wihihit Lehehex."











