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Martin had honestly started doing it by accident. It was an unusually warm day, the kind of warm that made him crave something that acknowledged the weather, a cold drink in a park with bread rolls and barbequed meats. He let out a sigh as they lounged on the sofa with the windows open. “You know what I want for dinner?” He asked, waiting for Jon to ask what even though it wasn’t really a question.
Ribs. An evil thought crossed his mind and made him grin. Archivist ribs. The kind that made his boyfriend shriek and squirm and laugh so beautifully. He loved the feeling of him writhing in his arms as his fingers traced over each bone in turn, making Jon melt against him with shaking laughter.
Then he realised that Jon hadn’t responded. Jon was, in fact, staring at him with wide eyes, a deep flush and- Martin noted somewhat suspiciously, his arms locked tightly around his sides.
“What?” He asked, though he had an inkling.
Jon swallowed, not moving his arms from around himself. “Sorry, I- I know you said not to know, but when y-you ask I can’t really help it, a-and…”
Martin grinned. “So, you- you know what I was just thinking about.” It wasn’t a question. Just to be safe.
He nodded, lips twitching with a nervous smile.
Martin turned, leaning closer to him and kneeling on the sofa. “Do you have any thoughts about it?” He asked amusedly.
“Ah-” Jon swallowed, shrinking back and holding his hands out, ostensibly to catch Martin’s own attacking ones, but, well. It also conveniently left his ribcage unguarded.
Martin snickered, taking a moment to appreciate just how adorable and obvious his boyfriend was before striking lightning fast, scribbling his fingers up and down his ribs and sides, drawing out that gorgeous laughter that he loved so much, punctuated with shrieks and snorts as Jon kicked and squirmed and batted at his hands without putting in any effort to actually stopping him or getting away.
That time was an accident.
The next time, well, Martin sort of wanted to test it. And tease, a little.
They were grocery shopping; the store wasn’t very crowded but there were a few other people about. Jon was examining an aubergine in the produce section, and it seemed as good a time as any to give it a go.
Martin’s lips quirked when he thought of the set of delicate paintbrushes he’d bought online. How tiny the smallest one was, probably light and thin enough that it could tease inside any wrinkle, never mind the large fluffy one that would doubtless ruin Jon when he subjected his upper ribs to it.
He let his smile become more relaxed. “You know what I want to do when we get home?” Martin asked, keeping his voice as breezy and casual as he could.
Jon wasn’t paying much attention, was about to respond when his mind was hit full force with exactly what Martin wanted to do. The aubergine slipped from his fingers, falling back into the pile of others. His face was on fire.
“Jon?” He looked up at Martin’s face and knew, he knew.
That was on purpose. He glared, wishing he could stop being so damn flustered. “You- you’re awful.” He managed to grind out.
Martin smiled at him. Like a jerk. “Do you know that?”
Why couldn’t the Eye give him the power to know what to say right now? Martin was so fucking smug; he was torturing him with the mental image of what he had planned. Part of Jon wanted to run all the way home and demand that he make good on it immediately, another part of him wanted the ground to swallow him up. “I-I’m going to get you for this.” He hissed.
“Oh yeah?” Martin was unshakable like this. “Can’t wait.”
Jon whined in the back of his throat.
This was decidedly unfair.
“Hmmm, do you know what I’m thinking of doing?”
Jon tugged at his arms, squirming wildly and grinning like mad. His hands were pinned under Martin’s knees and the rest of him was pinned under that gaze, helped along by the ideas being fed into his mind at rapid fire. Fingers caressing that spot in between his ribs, feathers dancing between his toes, raspberries over his stomach. Giggles bubbled up inside and he flushed deeper by the second, knowing that Martin was practically spoon-feeding these fantasies to make him more and more flustered, and it was working.
Much more of this and he might just break and beg Martin to do it.
Martin smiled down at his boyfriend, trembling at the thoughts that Martin knew he could sense. His hands bracketed Jon, making no move to tease or tickle beyond those in his head. He watched his reactions, seeing how Jon twitched with each new spot he thought about, how his wobbly smile got wider by the second.
Raspberries to his neck got a twitch of his shoulders, but not much of an attempt to turtle up.
Wiggly fingers at his ribs got a hiccup of a laugh and eyes squeezed shut.
Feather-light tracing of his stomach had him squeaking through sealed lips.
Squeezes to his knees earned the lightest of laughs.
Then a particularly evil thought occurred to Martin, and he knew it was a winner because of how Jon’s eyes snapped open, fixing on his own. Pleading, giddy, desperate. Practically vibrating from anticipation.
“Oh alright.” Martin said, trying not to laugh. “Since you’re basically begging for it.”
He slowly pushed Jon’s T-shirt up until it was bunched at his underarms, leaving his torso completely undefended. Jon squirmed in anticipation, even just the feeling of the air against his bare skin seeming to tickle now.
Martin leaned closer to him, and Jon closed his eyes, legs squirming in anticipation simply because it was a part of him that he could move, at least without incumbering Martin in some way. He was getting better at admitting that he didn’t want to stop this.
A light kiss was pressed to his ribs and Jon squeaked. That wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain about being showered with love from his wonderful boyfriend.
Even if the kisses did send him tumbling into those embarrassing giggles.
Martin fought to keep from smiling too much as he kissed up and down and across Jon’s hypersensitive ribcage. He was sure to suck ever so slightly now and then, to blow gently against the skin after he broke the kiss, to skitter his lips along the bones. The only downside of tickling Jon like this was that Martin couldn’t see his reactions as much. It was a decent trade off though, for getting to shower him with love while tickling him to distraction.
Jon smiled wildly, tugging at his hands through his giggles if only to cover his face. He didn’t know why he was so self-conscious about his smile, but the urge to hide was impossible to resist. Luckily, he wasn’t the one resisting it right now. Every brush of Martin’s lips had him twitching, giggling, feeling like he was full of sparkles and he was going to melt into a pool of laughter on their bed and this wasn’t what Martin had been thinking about. “Ma-Martiiiin!” He managed to complain without laughing.
Feeling a little wicked, Martin didn’t pull his lips away from Jon’s skin to speak. “Yes love?” He asked, getting a wonderful shriek in reaction.
Jon whined. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that this wasn’t what Martin had been thinking about, that it was teasing and light and he loved it, but the other thing was going to drive him utterly out of his mind, and he wanted that, he really wanted it. “Please?”
Martin kissed his lowest rib. “Please what?”
Jon kicked his feet. “Don’t make me say it!”
Martin chuckled to himself. It really was funny how flustered Jon got over this. They both liked it, they both had fun, and still he couldn’t admit it, couldn’t ask for it. Though, he thought, Jon wasn’t the only one. “Okay, I won’t.” He said, raising his head to smile at Jon wickedly. “Just one thing though. Do you know how much this is gonna tickle?”
He watched Jon’s expression, as pleading turned to shocked turned to anticipatory, and didn’t wait one more moment to dive in with his teeth, nibbling gently and mercilessly at Jon’s ribs.
Jon’s mind stuttered for a moment, processing the feeling of sharp, gentle gnawing at his ribcage, before he let out a loud screech, bucking bodily to the point that he actually shifted Martin a little.
Martin laughed, shocked by the intensity of his reaction. “Bloody hell Jon.” He muttered, going back to his meal of archivist ribs to the melody of frantic, hysterical cackling.
No thoughts could cross Jon’s mind. All he could process was the feeling of that unbearable nibbling, all he knew was that that tickled, it really tickled, he was laughing and couldn’t stop, his skin burned as he twisted and shrieked and babbled with laughter.
Then he was gasping for breath as the feeling abated, Jon blinked back tears of laughter looking down at his boyfriend and noticed that he wasn’t the only one taking a very deep breath right now. Oh no.
Jon barely had a moment to realise before Martin blew a very large raspberry against his ribs, earning yet another scream and an even more violent jump than before.
Against his will, Jon seemed to have freed one of his arms. He had lost any remaining will or energy to fight back, instead cackling relentlessly as Martin blew more raspberries over his flaming ribs, nibbling at the bones and overall doing a very good job of tickling him to death.
Martin laughed between his bites, noting how Jon twitched when he did so. There was something so endearing about his archivist’s uncontrollable shrieking laughter. His nibbles and raspberries reached one of the two spaces where Jon had a rib missing, and feeling mischievous, he darted his tongue out, wriggling it over the space.
Jon snorted loudly between fits of laughter, his free hand finally deciding on grasping at his own face, covering one eye and tangling into his messy hair. He was lost awash a sea of tingly sparkling sensation, able to do nothing but feel it, wanting to do nothing but feel it.
Eventually the feeling receded, leaving a trail of sparks along Jon’s nerve endings, lighting him up with giggles though there was nothing left to be causing them. He was flushed and his ribs still buzzed, and he knew that they would definitely be doing that again.
To say that Martin’s now frequent teasing had gotten too much for Jon would be a lie. He’d loved every moment of it, and he would love it for every moment that it happened going forwards.
It was just… he wasn’t the fittest of men. His lung capacity had its limits, and some days he got muscle aches even without his boyfriend driving him out of his mind with laughter. All that to say, he might need a break, as much as it pained him to realise.
Martin had never been good at asking for things. Get rejected enough times and that’ll happen. He’d been trying to do better at it with Jon, they’d talked about it. Jon pouring himself a glass of water and Martin, somewhat strangled, asking whether, since he was already up, if he’d mind…
Jon never turned him down. He kissed him every time he asked for something, which Martin tried to think of as an expression of his feelings rather than an attempt to train him into asking.
Still. Some things were a struggle.
Martin shucked off his jumper in the room before going to join his boyfriend, who was seated on the sofa. He got nervous asking for things at the best of times, even without how goddamn flustering this was. But he wanted it, and he should be upfront.
Well.
As upfront as he could be.
Besides, it wasn’t like Jon could judge him; he couldn’t ask either. Martin sat beside him, feeling himself flush at what he was about to do.
He cleared his throat. “Hey- um, d-do you- know- uh- know what I want to do?”
Jon closed his book with a soft sigh. “Honestly, I’d love to Martin, but I ache, and…” He stopped talking as exactly what Martin was thinking about was presented to him. Oh. Ohhhh.
He smirked. “Ah, I see.”
Martin flushed bright red, burying his face in his hands.
Jon chuckled. “Very inventive of you, I must say.” He wrapped his arms around him. “I’m a little jealous.”
Martin tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling to avoid those eyes. “Jealous of me having a mind-reading boyfriend?”
“Well, when you put it like that.” He laughed, kissing Martin’s jaw and earning a twitch. “My, you are eager.”
“Don’t.”
Jon’s smirk widened and he drew back. “Don’t? Of course.”
“Jon you asshole, don’t you dare!”
“Don’t I dare what? Honestly Martin, you said don’t, so I stopped, I hope there isn’t a problem here.”
Martin whined, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please?”
Jon let the mischief and evil fade, smiling warmly. This was as good an opportunity as any to help Martin practice. “Please what?”
Oh god, he sounded so sincere. Martin sucked in a breath. “P-please… tickle me?” He whispered, blushing deeply, a little stunned that he managed to get the words out.
Smiling lips closed over his, easing his nerves somewhat. He opened his eyes to see Jon looking back at him with the most lovestruck look in his eyes Martin had ever seen. “Of course, love.” He said, then paused. “Would you, ah, like to show me specifically what you want?”
Martin groaned, bowing his head and closing his eyes, a million fantasies flying across his mind and he knew, he knew that Jon could see every single one of them.
“I’m not looking.” Jon promised quietly, kissing his forehead. “I won’t look unless you ask me to.”
His flush intensified, something Martin didn’t think was possible. “You- you do realise that’s the worst, right?”
Jon squeezed him tighter, resting his head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to see anything you don’t want me to.”
“Asking is hard.”
“I know love, you’re doing wonderfully.” Jon pressed a kiss to his jaw again. “I don’t have to look if you don’t want. I’m sure my instincts will be just fine.” He was grinning now. How couldn’t he be?
“You’re the worst.”
“Me?” Jon asked incredulously. “You’ve been tormenting me with this ever since you found out you could.”
“You loved it.”
“So did you.”
Martin wasn’t sure why, but that was enough to break through the tension he’d been holding onto. He grinned, matching Jon’s own smile, and pulled him close enough to bury his face in his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Jon murmured.
Martin squeezed his eyes shut. “You can look.” Not that he had anything specific in mind. He wanted…
Jon kissed him surprisingly, making Martin’s eyes open. There was knowing in his eyes. “You’re really very sweet.” Jon murmured.
An indistinct noise tore from Martin’s throat. “I don’t even know what I was thinking about.”
His eyes were so fixed on Jon that he didn’t notice the flickering fingers until they danced across his neck. Martin squeaked, twitching against the urge to crush the sensation into his shoulder.
Jon was grinning at him. “I can tell you the impression I got.”
Oh god. The fingers didn’t stop their fluttering, and Martin squirmed bodily if only to keep himself from reacting in a way that would stop Jon. He squeezed his eyes shut again to avoid that knowing, loving smile.
Jon brought his other hand up to trace and tease Martin’s ear with his fingertips, warmth spreading throughout his body when Martin started giggling, making no effort to hold the laughter back. He kissed the tip of his nose. “I think you were needing a reminder of just how lovely you are.”
Martin flushed, sinking into the sofa, still giggling away at the teasing tickles around his neck and ear.
Jon kissed a line across his cheek until he was at his other ear. “Because you are.” He whispered. “You have the most wonderful smile, frankly it’s a crime that I don’t get to see it every second of the day.” The hand that had been dancing around his neck migrated to his stomach, scratching against the fabric of his shirt. “Not to mention your remarkable sense in clothing, do you know how difficult it is not to curl up against you sometimes?”
Martin jolted at the change, bursts of laughter breaking through his giddy giggles, his arms twitching from the impulse to push Jon away or pull him closer or something. He didn’t know how to deal with all this affection directed squarely at him, especially when he was far too ticklish to try to respond.
No, all he could do was sit there and take it and wow did it feel nice.
Jon pressed a long kiss to Martin’s neck, loving that he got to be the one to do this. Martin’s teasing of him so far had been focused, he’d gotten a clear view of exactly what he meant and that had been… very flustering. This was different; his thoughts had been a lot more muddled, nothing specific beyond the haze of emotion and want. The want itself was clear though. To feel warm and fuzzy and loved, to be so lost to giggly laughter that all he could feel was happy.
And who was Jon to say no to that?
His fingers continued to spider over Martin’s stomach and trace his ear, wiggling over the spot just behind that always got a squeal. Jon kissed his way back to his cheek. “I could spend all day counting your freckles.” He said fondly.
“Jon!” Martin squealed, bucking when blunt nails scratched at the spot behind his ear. One of his arms twitched as if to stop him.
With a smile, Jon caught the hand in his other, weaving their fingers together. “Oh of course, your hands.” He said, kissing Martin’s knuckles while continuing to torment his ear. “Honestly just perfect to hold, I wish I could sprout another arm exclusively to hold your hand.”
Martin snorted at the odd compliment, flushing all the way down to his toes. Yeah, he could admit it to himself, this was what he’d wanted. He couldn’t even word it properly in his mind, but Jon had known. He wanted to feel like this.
Jon laughed under his breath. He could see that Martin was loving this, but he could also see that he was getting short of breath. Ah well. They could do this any time. They could do this every day as far as he was concerned.
“And your ears, naturally.” He whispered directly into Martin’s other ear, while his fingers continued to scratch and tease the other. “Adorable. Especially with just how ticklish they are.” He illustrated his words by pressing his lips to his earlobe, making Martin’s giggles give way to laughter as he kissed up and down, the conflicting sensations making him twist from side to side.
Then Jon caught the shell of his ear gently in his teeth and Martin shrieked, immediately falling over sideways on the sofa in an attempt to escape and dragging Jon down with him.
Jon grinned, ceasing his assault and burying his face in Martin’s neck. “Okay?”
Martin still shook with giggles, and in place of responding, squeezed Jon in a tight embrace. Almost too tight. He wanted to hold him more tightly, wanted to hold Jon until they could never be apart again, so the giddy feeling of being together would stay forever.
Jon squeezed him back, burrowing into his arms. He could feel the happiness radiating off Martin like a furnace. Taking a deep breath, Jon murmured, “Martin. Do you know how much I love you?”
The warmth in Martin’s chest somehow grew warmer still. He pressed a kiss to Jon’s hair. “I think so.”