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It wasn’t fair and everyone in the room knew it wasn’t. Most especially Bruce, since he was the one on the receiving end of the group’s taunts.
“Guys,” Bruce’s own voice sounded a little too high for his liking, so he cleared his throat and resumed in a near Batman-esque growl, “Can you all just knock it off?”
“Big guy in a carbon-fiber suit. Take that away and what are you?” Arthur shot back with a horrible gleam in his eyes.
“Ticklish,” Barry mumbled in glee beside him.
Diana smiled wide but then tried to tamp it down a bit when she saw Bruce glance her way. We don’t want to embarrass him too bad, of course. Keep it civil.
“I still...” Bruce paused and took a breath as opposed to stuttering through his sentence, “I still don’t see why you’re all so gung-ho about this. Everyone is ticklish.”
Arthur actually chuckled this time, throwing his body into the deep noises for emphasis, “Because you’re the freaking bat, big guy! It’s so... perfect.”
“We should just get him already,” Victor chimed in finally after standing in silence, observing the scene.
Bruce was in the center of the room, leaning against his desk. He was surrounded on all sides by superheroes, and he was far outmatched in the superpower department. He remained silent as he stood up straight and headed for the door. He made it through, only to be stopped by Clark on the other side.
All morning. All morning they were pestering him and making comments and giggling amongst themselves all because they saw Diana accidentally tickle his neck when they were working. And he reacted. Rookie move.
Bruce shifted his eyes upward so he wouldn’t have to tilt his whole head to get a look at Clark’s face. No weakness, come on, Bruce.
He suddenly felt a very strange, speedy tickle along both of his sides, but it was over in a flas-- oh, fucking Barry.
Bruce’s arms cinched to his alerted sides and he turned around to see Barry in exactly the same spot he was in before he left the other room. Then he had Clark smirking at him from the other side.
“Children,” Bruce mumbled to himself in a whisper as he got past Clark, knowing full-well Clark could probably hear him what with super hearing or whatever it was.
“Alfred,” Bruce’s voice was now louder, “Lock the Batcave. Security breach protocol. No one gets in,” and he nearly made it to the secret door to the cave, too. He would’ve. If Diana hadn’t sidled up to him and caressed his forearm with her nails.
“Bruce,” she spoke softly, “We meant no harm.”
The Bat clenched his jaw but he did look at her. Her touch sent chills up his arm.
“I know you don’t. It’s humiliating to be tickled, even though I honestly probably wouldn’t mind if you all tickled me--Hey!” Bruce shot his whole body back as if he was shocked. Diana giggled innocently, the Lasso of Truth’s end wrapped around the hand she held Bruce’s arm with.
Expecting his whole world to come crumbling around him from the sheer embarrassment of what he just spoke aloud for everyone to hear, it was Bruce who was stunned when he finally looked around at the group who had followed him into this new room from the study and observed their faces. What he thought would be followed by deep, mocking laughter, instead were the caring, understanding faces of the people he now cared about. His cheeks were dusted pink, and yes, they could all see it behind his stubble.
“It--It’s not something...” he shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose, “That wasn’t an invitation.”
And then Clark laughed, and the things that happened next were in a quick blur that maybe spanned 15 seconds.
When he stopped and really thought about what happened, this is what he came up with: Diana snuck up behind him and gave him a hug, or what he thought was a hug, but she slipped that Lasso around his wrists and cinched them. Then Arthur came forward and hoisted Bruce over his shoulder and unceremoniously dumped him on the couch only a few feet away. Barry blocked any attempts of Bruce trying to get up and run away. Diana used the Lasso and yanked his arms up over his head and Victor locked in on his now raised wrists, grip stronger than iron. And the next thing he knew, everyone was surrounding him, smiling like jerks. 15 seconds. This all happened too fast for him to even stand a chance.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t...” Arthur drawled out as he leaned against the couch, almost straddling Bruce, “... mind if I do,” and with a feral grin, he dug in.
“Ow! You fuhucking--” Bruce clamped his lips tight. Arthur’s tickling was a little rough. Now Bruce was struggling, using all his meditative might to not break. He did growl a lot though. And curse through his teeth.
“You’re not doing it right,” Barry admonished after a few seconds of unsuccessful no-laughter.
“He’s a tough dude, I figured I’d also be tough.”
“Try his hips,” Clark spoke from behind the back of the couch.
Bruce eyed the Kryptonian, wondering what in the sweet ungodly hell gave it away... the eyes. The glowing eyes of x-ray vision. He could see nerve endings??
Arthur’s thumbs were in his hip joints in an instant and Bruce bucked, unable to really do much in Victor’s steely, unmoving grip. He laughed, oh god he did laugh. It was a loud burst of something that honestly sounded more like a scream than a laugh, but then there was a forced smile on his face that he tried to hide by shoving it into his raised arm.
“Ahaww,” Barry cooed aloud and blushed when he realized he, indeed, did it aloud.
“He’s going to kill all of you,” Victor pointed out.
“You’re included in this, aren’t you?” Barry asked, “Or are those not your arms holding him down?”
“Shh, you’re going to miss it,” Diana quieted the bickering men as she kneeled at the side of the couch and she started skittering her nails across Bruce’s sides and belly as Arthur tried not tickling so hard that he might leave bruises if he kept going.
Bruce arched his back and now he was laughing more continuously. He tried to keep it to just huffs of air after that first screamer sound, but now with all their dumbass banter and Diana’s nails, it was a lot.
His chest rumbly laughter started to ooze out and there wasn’t much of anything more Bruce could do to stop it. He was overpowered, over-weakened, and now over-tickled.
“Bruce, you may need to think about breathing. You’re turning red,” Clark offered sage advice. Yeah, thanks, dickhead, really helpful right now.
He was red and he knew it was because he was still trying with all his might to hold a little something in. Just a piece. If he could prevent himself from really letting go, he could still say he kept a shred of his dignity.
Next thing he knew, there were new appendages at his armpits. Well, fuck.
Bruce cackled some more, the metaphorical dam burst all for one log or two. Dignity, man. One piece.
Bruce hadn’t spoken for a while now. After cursing at Arthur, he became so focused on not giving fully in that he didn’t have it in him to verbally fight or protest.
By now he had six hands on him. Arthur still at his hips (and by now he figured out if he switched between a harsh digging in to then a slightly softer massage motion of his thumbs, it got to Bruce the best), Diana’s mischievous Amazonian nails wreaking havoc across his taught but expansive belly and sides, and now Victor with his extra mini arms that sprout from his back, scratching methodically into the hollows of his armpits.
And hey, that was honestly pretty superhuman of him. He could take six super-hands wrecking his ticklish body without fully breaking. And that thought that he was still a little powerful was the last straw in the dam of laughter that burst from him. They all knew and recognized that Bruce was strong in his own ways, he didn’t need to shoot lasers from his fingers or punch a guy into the next planet. And Bruce finally got to that thought himself, even though it took some extra time. He was ready to let go.
Oh, I might mention that it might’ve also been the quick addition of Barry pinching his kneecap that did it, but we’ll agree to disagree.
The whole group wore identical grins when they got Bruce to laugh and succumb to his ticklishness.
“Can I try?” Barry asked Arthur, looking over his shoulder.
“Yeah, g’head, speedy.”
And they switched positions, which gave Bruce a breather as Diana and Victor also stopped. There was the time to suck in oxygen.
Barry looked a little nervous to be doing what he was about to be doing.
“Well?” Arthur nudged the kid’s back, “You gonna start?”
And just like that, Barry’s fingers were lightning. He took a much different approach than Arthur. While Arthur stayed in exactly the same spot and kept at it with forceful motions, Barry’s hands were everywhere. And he wasn’t even using his super speed because you could follow where his hands were going.
Bruce’s laugh came out very surprised and slightly higher in pitch than the laughs he previously gifted them with.
“Oho shit!” Bruce finally cursed again, as well. Why did it tickle so much?
“I can’t believe I’m tickling Batman,” Barry quipped. He got some chuckles from the team.
There was a moment where Barry and Diana gasped simultaneously, and Arthur barked out his own laugh. Barry had zoned in on Bruce’s stomach and whatever happened and why, Bruce snorted as he took in air to make room for more laughter. Even Clark giggled when he knew he heard what he heard, raising a fist to his mouth so as to not embarrass Bruce further.
“Shuhut--Shut up! Ahall of you, fucking shut uhuhup,” Bruce was regaining some of that dignity we mentioned earlier.
“We aren’t laughing at you,” Diana reassured.
“That was honestly cute, Bruce,” Victor agreed.
“Do it again,” Arthur spoke into Barry’s ear but it was not at all meant to be a whisper. Now Barry was on the hunt for more snorts. He did find one more in his search, but that’s all Bruce would allow him.
And then the fingers stopped and Victor’s grip loosened. Bruce’s arms came crashing down and he started to hunch and curl in on himself.
They waited until his residual breaths slowed to near normal. Diana reached her hand out towards Bruce’s face and the poor guy flinched away.
Diana’s airy laughter floated out for a moment, “I wasn’t going to tickle,” she tried again and brushed hair that had fallen askew during the attack out of Bruce’s eyes and off his forehead.
“You’re pr--”
“Fuck off.”
And then the team laughed. All of them. Bruce’s harsh cut-off of whatever Clark had to say even made him smile.
That lasso may have had something to it... well, besides godly power. It was the Lasso of Truth after all, wasn’t it? Yeah, for all his show and bravado, this was all Bruce wanted. And he couldn’t have dreamed of it happening under better circumstances.
With grumblings and mutterings of ‘I’m too old for this shit’ and the like, Bruce groaned his way into a sitting and then a standing position. They all had some real work to do, so they might as well get to it. Diana kissed him on the cheek for being a good sport, and Clark even clapped him on the shoulder. Barry couldn’t get a big dumb smile off his face, hard as he tried, and despite the others mentioning it to him multiple times. Arthur wiggled his fingers in the air at Bruce once and Bruce glared daggers at him. Victor was even smirking from time to time thinking about one of their big guns being ticklish like that.
One big, happy family.